#sword enjoyer meets knife enjoyer what will they do...

[perdidit-vulpes]

anyways the guy i'm seeing has a knife connection but in a metalworking way. idk how to feel abt it? since i've never actually met anyone that did metalworking more than a one-off thing. but i the metal knowledge is pretty cute. had a lovely conversation about the different types of steel in weaponry :3

#aka i got infodumped to about damascus steel and i got to infodump about high carbon spring steel #sword enjoyer meets knife enjoyer what will they do...

[sharpestasp]

Devil's Night Watch: The Crow (1994)

Thank you to @eerian-sadow and @ilyena-sylph for watching with me, even if it was just by discord for the incomparable eerian-sadow!

++

Graeme Revell knocked it out of the park for the OST Ilyena_Sylph: 💯 eeriansadow: YES

I love the kid that played Sarah. She just… she's perfect Ilyena_Sylph: i love Sarah so much

I am VERY glad Eric's introduction as the Crow is SO extensive and long. I know some complain that it is slow in relation to the rest, but… it works so well. Then again, comic book feel of it is perfection to me. eeriansadow: I agree Ilyena_Sylph: i can't imagine it being even a frame shorter. it's just. it's perfect. eeriansadow: — It IS. It's exactly what he needed. And it's an indrawn breath before the madness hits Yeah. And the transition, once the memories play out, into the rock music from the eerie haunting music? +chef kiss+ eeriansadow: So good, yes I just… you feel ALL OF HIS LOVE and his PAIN eeriansadow: nodnod

Still amused that my two roles for Tin-Tin's actors are THIS and Hackers -- where he was a bit Flaming

I love that both The Cure and Nine Inch Nails limited how often they would play their songs from this movie, despite both being frequently requested.

That is not murder strut. That is VENGEANCE WALKING

Ilyena_Sylph: i adore that they put the lyrics in the proper closed captions.

Ilyena_Sylph: i have such a love-hate with the fucking pawnshop owner and Tin-Tin and how much they despise each other. Ilyena_Sylph: like, it's just enjoyable in a truly bizarre way. Ilyena_Sylph: and gods, his sheer physical power.

I love the fight with Tin-Tin for showing how he is learning his abilities. I totally think "it's all in the reflexes" when he catches the knife.

Top Dollar and his sister are CREEPY. And I love it. Ilyena_Sylph: they are and it's gloriously terrible. Michael Wincott is still so pretty here.

Brandon Lee wasn't actually on the short list for the role. Lee himself convinced O'Barr. And then helped shape the final film creatively.

Torres is such a DICK.

Super strength, nigh-invulnerability, speed, animal senses, post-cognition…

Ilyena_Sylph: "jolly pirate nicknames!" "Is that gasoline I smell?" Creator cameo! (looter taking the TV)

Was it just me, or was there some Looks going on between Myca and T-Bird? Ilyena_Sylph: such a delightful little meeting there. Ilyena_Sylph: there were some interesting looks, for sure.

OH ERIC Touching her was SO HARD for his mind. Ilyena_Sylph: and doing anything good.

For those that never looked it up, the lady cop is Annabella. Tony Todd's character is Grange. Neither is named in the movie.

"Stop me if you've heard this one before…" I actually had not heard that joke before this movie, and I love it. I am sad they had to abbreviate the Fun Boy scene. But it works the way they handled it. We didn't actually NEED to see Eric interrogate him, though it served to show for every thing he did that wasn't directly part of the vengeance, it weakened him. (If you don't know, Fun Boy recovers enough before Eric is done to hurt him because of Eric healing Darla's addiction.)

I LOVE Albrecht. "You still have your hat on." Ilyena_Sylph: ACAB, but he tries not to be. Ilyena_Sylph: "Boo." He's what I used to believe cops were supposed to be. People who really wanted to make the world better. A fairy tale, in other words. OH ERIC. Ilyena_Sylph: "nothing is trivial." I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC. "I thought I'd use your front door."

Now, I've never verified, but the sword Top Dollar uses here is the same blade from The Three Musketeers. I should get a copy of that to verify… Oh Gideon you dug your grave, insulting Myca. Ilyena_Sylph: "for fuck's sake, die, willya?!"

Actual Vinyl. But then, Detroit. Makes sense there would have still been vinyl presses running for the indie scene up there. eeriansadow: Yep

"Drive." Hello Henry Rollins. In the Yugo. Ilyena_Sylph: +giggle+ Coffee in the lap of an ACAB. Ilyena_Sylph: hot coffee to the crotch. Ilyena_Sylph: say what you will about Skank, he's loyal as fuck. crazy little bastard. Yes, he very much is. I love that T-Bird is actually the one that has to endure TERROR before his death. Fun Boy was too high to be really terrified, Tin-Tin didn't last long enough… Skank, yeah, he winds up having to watch the melee, but he ain't all there enough to really feel what T-Bird just did.

Ilyena_Sylph: Grange's 'what the fuuuuuuck' face perched at the edge of the opened grave. INDEED!

Ilyena_Sylph: oh, Darla. Yeah. Side note - Darla is a good character in the TV show.

Ilyena_Sylph: god i hate Torres. Yes, we do. Ilyena_Sylph: racist prick

The story BEHIND the reunion between Sarah and Eric HURTS. Ilyena_Sylph: ?? She filmed this after Brandon's death. Ilyena_Sylph: oH GODS YES "You're not dead, are you" to the CAT Ilyena_Sylph: WELL?! it's a reasonable question! Ilyena_Sylph: given her last 24 hours! And I always though Gabriel was touched by the supernatural because of the events.

The Skank scene with Grange and Top Dollar… Skank's actor played it well.

Sarah and Albrecht coming clean about Eric is so touching. Ilyena_Sylph: 'he can't be my friend because… because i'm alive.'

Thrill Kill Cult's song is so PERFECT for the coming scene. Jeff Imada, legendary stuntman and stunt coordinator. "Devil's night greeting cards." I love how Brandon MOVES. And the kill floor is live. Ilyena_Sylph: YES the change from the techno metal to the eerie music, the almost quiet around the bullets… Ilyena_Sylph: when did you become a shootist, Eric? (talking about Brandon's other roles) - Showdown in Little Tokyo? Or Rapid Fire

What was with the 90s and Helicopter chases over skylines? "So many cops, you'd think they were giving away donuts." Also, ALL the blood on Albrecht's car seat was a really good sign of his power waning. eeriansadow: It was, yes. Good visual storytelling

Sarah sleeping at the graves is just so her. He CAN'T tell her goodbye, because you don't get that chance before you die and can't take it after. And that is a promise she kept, about not taking off the ring, if I remember the second movie right. eeriansadow: I haven't watched the second in a LONG time but I believe you're right I think it gets taken off of her at one point? But. Just like Top Dollar just did to her. eeriansadow: Yeah

Metatextually (as Top Dollar will monologue in a few minutes), Eric's job WASN'T done. But oh he's waning on power. Ilyena_Sylph: but he thought it was Ilyena_Sylph: he didn't know. Yeah.

Albrecht to the RESCUE! Grange going down to Albrecht, when he was the enforcer for Top Dollar, the man behind most of Albrecht's cases, felt good. Ilyena_Sylph: yep And Myca, the mystic, dies at the actual crow's actions. Weather-vane versus sword…. Top Dollar is one of the best amoral villains in cinema. Ilyena_Sylph: and stupid enough to not be able to not gloat. Ilyena_Sylph: and make himself a justified target again. Well, Lawful Evil. He has rules, they're just… fucked up.

"I've been meaning to come to church anyway." And Albrecht pins it all on Top Dollar. Gotta love that.

MY HEART ALWAYS THUMPS SO HARD AT SHELLY COMING FOR ERIC. "For Brandon and Eliza" - yep, there's the tears now. eeriansadow: Yes. I always cry at the dedication

And new to me trivia - Eliza, his fiancée, was his assistant on the movie.

#the crow 1994 #eric draven #officer albrecht #sarah mohr #brandon lee #ernie hudson #holiday movies #devil's night

[niseamstories]

I took historical sword-fighting lessons to make the fights in my novel more realistic - here’s what I learned.

Edit: Whew, this blew up! Stoked so many of you find this useful. :) Leave me a follow if you like, I’ll try to make more research posts like this (next one will probably be about my meeting with a linguist for a fictional language).

To make the fighting scenes in my low fantasy novel more realistic, I went to see a trainer for historical sword-fighting last week, both to barrage her with questions and to develop realistic choreographies for the fight scenes in the novel. Since I figured some of what she told me might be useful for you too, I put together a small list for you. Big thanks to Gladiatores Munich and Jeanne for making time! (Here are some more pictures if you're interested.)

Caveat: I’m by no means a sword-fighting expert myself, so take these nuggets with a grain of salt – I might have misremembered or misinterpreted some of the things Jeanne told me. If I did, feel free to tell me.

1.) Weapon choices need to make sense

Let’s start with a truism: always ensure your character’s weapons make sense for a.) their profession, b.) their cultural background and c.) the environment they’re going to fight in. A farmer probably couldn’t afford a sword and might use a knife or threshing flail instead, and someone who doesn’t want to be noticed probably wouldn’t be milling about sporting a glaive or another large weapon. Also, soldiers native to a country with wide open plains would be more likely to carry long-range melee weapons such as spears or large swords, than those from a country consisting of mostly jungle or dense forests. The same applies to situations: if your character is going to be fighting in close quarters (even just a normal house), he’d get little value out of a spear or even a longsword, as there’d be no space to swing it effectively.

2.) Boldness often beats skill

In real swordfights, recklessness was often more important than technique. The fighter less afraid of getting injured would often push harder, allowing them to overpower even opponents with better technique.

3.) Even a skilled fighter rarely stands a chance when outnumbered

While a skilled (or lucky) fighter might win a two-versus-one, it’d be extremely unlikely for even a single master swordsman to win against superior numbers, even just three and if they’re below his skill level. The only way to plausibly pull this off would be to split the opponents up, perhaps by luring them into a confined space where you could take them on one by one. The moment you’re surrounded, you’re probably done for – because, unlike in Hollywood, they wouldn’t take turns attacking but come at you all at once.

4.) Dual-wielding was a thing

... at least in some cultures. I often heard people say that people using a weapon in each hand is an invention of fiction. And while my instructor confirmed that she knew of no European schools doing this—if they did, it’s not well-documented—she said it was a thing in other cultures. Example of this include the dual wakizashi in Japan or tomahawk and knife in North America. However, one of the biggest problems with the depiction of dual wielding in novels/movies/games are the “windmill”-type attacks where the fighter swings their weapons independently, hitting in succession rather than simultaneously. Normally you’d always try hitting with both weapons at once, as you’d otherwise lose your advantage.

5.) Longswords were amazing

Longswords might seem boring in comparison to other weapons, but they were incredibly effective, especially in combat situations outside the battlefield. The crossguard allowed for effective blocking of almost any kind of attack (well, maybe not an overhead strike of a Mordaxt, but still), the pommel was also used as a powerful “blunt” weapon of its own that could crack skulls. Though they were somewhat less effective against armored opponents, the long, two-handed hilt allowed for precise thrusts at uncovered body parts that made up for it.

6.)  “Zweihänder” were only used for very specific combat situations

Zweihänder—massive two-handed swords—were only used for specific purposes and usually not in one-on-one combat as is often seen in movies or games. One of these purposes was using their reach to break up enemy formations. In fact, one type of two-handed sword even owed its name to that purpose: Gassenhauer (German, Gasse = alley, Hauer = striker)—the fighters literally used it to strike “alleys” into an enemy formation with wide, powerful swings.

7.) It’s all about distance

While I was subconsciously aware of this, it might be helpful to remember that distance was an incredibly important element in fights. The moment your opponent got past your weapons ideal range, it was common to either switch to a different weapon or just drop your weapon and resort to punching/choking. A good example of this are spears or polearms—very powerful as long as you maintain a certain range between you and your opponent, but the moment they get too close, your weapon is practically useless. That’s also why combatants almost always brought a second weapon into battle to fall back one.

8.) Real fights rarely lasted over a minute

Another truism, but still useful to remember: real fights didn’t last long. Usually, they were over within less than a minute, sometimes only seconds – the moment your opponent landed a hit (or your weapon broke or you were disarmed), you were done for. This is especially true for combatants wearing no or only light armor.

9.) Stop the pirouettes

Unfortunately, the spinning around and pirouetting that makes many fight scenes so enjoyable to watch (or read) is completely asinine. Unless it's a showfight, fighters would never expose their backs to their opponent or even turn their weapon away from them.

10.)  It still looks amazing

If your concern is that making your fight scenes realistic will make them less aesthetic, don’t worry. Apart from the fact that the blocks, swings and thrusts still look impressive when executed correctly, I personally felt that my fights get a lot more gripping and visceral if I respect the rules. To a certain extent, unrealistic and flashy combat is plot armor. If your characters can spin and somersault to their heart’s content and no one ever shoves a spear into their backs as they would have in real life, who survives and who doesn’t noticeably becomes arbitrary. If, on the other hand, even one slip-up can result in a combatant’s death, the stakes become palpable.

That’s about it! I hope this post is as helpful to some of you as the lessons were to me. Again, if anything I wrote here is bollocks, it’s probably my fault and not Jeanne’s.  I'll try to post more stuff like this in the future.

Cheers,

Nicolas

#research #sword fighting #medieval #fantasy #writeblr #writing #dreams of the dying #writing research #real #writingtips

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Once upon a time, little Anna had wanted nothing more than to die by Hiccup Haddock’s side. Perhaps they’d go out in some blaze of glory like her parents, back-to-back with hands held as they took down Enforcers until the very end. Perhaps they’d roam into the wrong part of town and die to the knife of some Undercity thug, but at least they’d have each other to cling to in their last moments.

Perhaps they would leave this world in a Piltovan penthouse, sprawled out in the same deathbed in a high-rise apartment and surrounded by spoiled pets and neon décor. Naïve as it might be, Anna had fantasized about winning, too. About overthrowing the Council and taking Piltover for her and Hiccup’s own.

Regardless, they were always together at the end.

Little Anna would never have imagined it ending like this, though.

She braced herself for the searing hot blade, poised to slice open her throat and rid the Dragons of her for good. It never came.

Hiccup paused, sword trembling above his head. A strange look swam onto his face.

Something hard twisted in her stomach, and suddenly she wanted to be sick. How in the hell did they, of all people, end up here?

How many promises had they made to stick together, no matter what life threw at them? Had it really been so long ago that they spent hours talking in Hiccup’s room, having little else outside each other?

Together, she decided. Together, or not at all.

Her hand drifted to her weapons belt, unhooking a firebomb. She popped the pin and rolled it to the side.

Hiccup let out a strangled cry, and it was the last thing she heard before the world dissolved into flames.

***

HEYO, guess who decided to take a crack at a Hiccanna Arcane AU???

So I got requested Hiccanna angst/hurt-comfort/enemies to lovers for a gift exchange and my bitch ass really went “what if I did all 3???” And what better way to do that than with an Arcane AU, one of the angstiest freaking shows in existence???

I also wanted really badly to try writing Dark/Evil!Anna x Hiccup, and oh BOY, did I have a fun time with this!!! Exploring what would happen if Anna was pushed to be her worst possible self is frighteningly enjoyable, and I love being like “hey, what if Anna’s codependency issues and burning need to be acknowledged and valuable caused her to just fucking snap?”

So basically the setup here is that Hiccup and Anna grow up in Zaun and are best friends as kids, but then Anna ends up accidentally causing a massive amount of fuckery to go down and ends up getting adopted by a supervillain. When Hiccup meets her again, she’s a trained killer who’s almost completely lost her mind. It’s up to Hiccup to try and get through to her...unless he can’t O____O

Also, yes, Jinx is 4000% Evil!Anna and you can't change my mind. I mean:

Developed a lot of issues due to a fear of being useless, overlooked, and inadequate

Older sister worship, good GOD older sister worship

Developed severe abandonment issues due to a perceived rejection from said worshipped older sister

Was a wholesome, sweet child UNTIL their sisters accidentally traumatized them

Fun-loving, energetic, and goofy

Definitely prone to wacky dramatics and theatrics, which can be endearing or terrifying

Has an appreciation for bright, vivid colors

Head full, many thoughts and tend to chatter and ramble a lot, but often absolutely suck at articulating what exactly they mean

Impulsive as hell

Tend to eagerly run into fights with guns/swords/fists blazing and ask questions later

Bird motifs kinda (ducks vs. crows)

Huggy and readily physically affectionate

Will readily cling to anyone who gives them affection and positive affirmation

Adorable and cutesy but you really absolutely do not want to piss them off

Big boi codependency issues

Iconic twin braids

Need I go on???

Yes I based Hiccup and Anna’s relationship here off of TimeBomb, what of it???

I ended up making Merida Anna’s older sister in this fic since like...no matter how hard I tried I could not fit Elsa into the role of Vi XD And I was like hey, fuck it, the Chaotic Blue-Eyed Ginger Team could easily be sisters, and Merida very much fits the “punch really hard first, ask questions later” vibe.

First chapter of the fic is currently posted on my ff.net account, Infrared-Ultraviolet!!! Next chapter should be up in a few days or so!

Moodboard pic credits available upon request!

#hiccanna #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #aesthetic #moodboard #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #hiccup #anna #hiccup haddock #princess anna #rotbtd #rotbtfd #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane au #httyd #frozen #crossover

[dreamskug]

14, 20, 31, 50 and 68 for Ivarr? :3

Thanks for asking! Hereee we go:

14. What is their weapon of choice?

Oh, there is a variety of weapons he tends to use, superpowers included (in his case, mind control). Although, there's something special about handheld steel he's absolutely fascinated by - knives, daggers, swords (those are too old-fashioned in his opinion, but he enjoys watching sword fighting in movies and fantasy shows).

Anyway, his latest weapon of choice is just a kitchen knife, because it's.. stylish? Simple and lethal - less talk, more action.

20. Where do they currently live? describe their home.

He's actually sharing an apartment in Watson with his choom, Asva. Nothing too big - 2 bedrooms, 2 balconies, located on a high floor. Despite him being all rough and tough type of guy, he is a very visual person, so he decorated his apartment with some biker stuff and Maelstrom graffiti. His room is black but one wall is painted red with a lot of occult decor on it. There are some cyberware parts here and there as reminders of his ripper/cyberpsycho therapist past.

Although he is quite seldom at home, he enjoys hanging out in his sister's (Líf) apartment in Heywood - it's just so nice and cozy there, it's so calming watching her messing around with all the witch props and.. the scent of candles and herbs is so comforting.

Not that she invites him explicitly though - he just comes around and she just.. lets him in.

31. Who are their closest chooms in NC?

Oh, that's a good one! And thank you for this question, cuz here we are - Asva! It's Asva. One of the best examples of enemies-to-frenemies-to-friends. Being natural enemies since the dawn of time (half-angel and half-incubus), they get along just fine, but it wasn't always like this - their first meet ended with a fight and Asva nearly died.

Anyways. As a supernatural being, Asva has a difficult time adjusting to the world and there are a lot of human behavior patterns, rules and habits that seem unclear to him, so Ívarr helps him to learn how to react in an appropriate way. In spite of him being quite inexperienced in "normal" life, Ivarr is fascinated by the way Asva looks at things - he believes that nothing is completely positive or negative, so he is one of the few creatures who don't hate Ívarr by default and doesn't really consider him the asshole others claim him to be.

Also, the dude likes the exact same music Ívarr does, so, yeah.

50. Name three of your characters biggest kinks.

Ohhhqwewe hehehe, here we are.

1) Choking. IT'S CHOKING. Giving and receiving, well, actually giving (the dude has Takemura's neck cyberware, so.. :D).

He just loves it - literally holding a person's life in his hands. More than just intimate.

2) Brat taming - a bratty sub talking back - uhhmm, makes him maadddd and excited! Nothing is more enjoyable than "breaking" them.

3) Dacryphilia - oh he loves fucking the shit out of his partner until they cry. Of pleasure. Mostly.

68. In what outfit do they feel sexiest? How do they dress to impress?

Ripped jeans/leggins or leather pants, biker boots, Maelstrom spiked jackets! Also, he prefers to walk shirtless. The scent of whiskey and tobacco - must have, covered in blood - even better.

#ivarr: lore #oc: ivarr #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #cyberpunk oc #cyberpunk v #malev #male v oc

[di-kut]

Morning

Pero Tovar x Reader 

A/N: I am again writing Tovar to avoid writing other things. Set in the same world as this, a small (meant to be) oneshot I wrote on my main blog, but much earlier in time. Reader and Tovar wake up after their second night together. They talk. Things are weird. I don’t really know what this is except I wanted more so here it is. This is very short and unedited. You don’t have to read the other post to read this one. 

The sound of someone moving about the kitchen wakes you. It’s a slow, syrupy sort of wakening. Your eyelids and limbs feel thick and heavy. The blankets are pushed back to your waist. Dust mites float gently through the stream of late morning light in the window. Piece by piece the cottage comes into being. The boots in the corner. The clucking of the hens. More of a scrabbling. You blink slowly. The kitchen has gone quiet again.

The night before settles in your mind. You push yourself upright, throw off the covers. Turn your head to the boots again and the heavy leather cuirass. Had thought they were your husband’s, still half asleep. Realise now how they could not possibly have been. Your legs shake when you touch your feet to the ground. Makes you flush, from your hairline to your breasts. The bruises are constellations on your thighs and your stomach. Around your nipples. The shape of his mouth. The soldier. Tovar. You hear things being shifted in the kitchen again. Hear the hens, the scratching, still stuck in their pen. The sun is climbing well above the trees, the sky a bright, brilliant blue. You have not slept so late in months.

You dress with shaking hands. Your head feels full of wool and your mouth dry. You did not drink ale. Had never drunk ale. Until last night. Until the soldier you had only met once, and now bedded twice, had bought it to you. From England, he’d said. Your hair is so tangled you give up braiding it, listen to the sounds of the stranger digging through your things. Through your life. Think of the meagre purse of coin in the drawer with the cutlery. Your dress is the same one you had worn yesterday. Cotton. Used to be a pretty blue, one of your favourites, now threadbare and faded. Piled under the arms and around the neck. You wrap the woollen shawl over it, high around your neck despite the warmth. A necessary protection. Make your way to the kitchen.

He is sitting at your table. Elbows crowded around his plate, legs splayed beneath. Wearing his trousers and his undershirt, but not his armour. His dark eyes find you immediately, knowing and unreadable. His scar pulls at his left eye as he eats, rips the bread with thick fingers and shoves it into his mouth. Smiles when he sees you. It isn’t a particularly nice smile – certainly not friendly. A secret smile, a knowing one. One that makes you flush pink all over again. You lean in the small doorway, unsure. Feel displaced in your own house, feel like he seems more at home here than you do. And maybe it’s true. You certainly haven’t felt as if you belonged in the cottage in months. You envy him. At ease in a place he does not know. Think it must be his life to live like that, from place to place. Feel suddenly very small and very childish in your small corner of the world.

“Sit,” he says to you.

You hesitate. Lean back slightly into the small bedroom and then step out. The floor is stone in the main part of the house, and cool even in the warm summer. Makes you curl your toes as you walk and settle into the stool across from him. Wince when you sit too hard.

He does not miss it. His smile grows, from secretive to smug. “Be careful, yes?” He doesn’t expect an answer, but you nod anyway. “Here, eat.”

You take the large piece of bread he rips off for you gingerly. Hold it over the table in front of you and watch him. He bites into his. He is not gentle, or well mannered. Crumbs fall all around him. Your eyes drop to his mouth, the same mouth which had last night been between your legs. Had called you beautiful. He chuckles. It draws your gaze back up. You go red again and bite into the bread, look away from him completely.

“You are shy. You look at me. You did more than look last night.” You can’t meet his eyes. Stare at a knot in the wood of the tabletop. He laughs again. “Very shy. Your husband does not do such things?”

“I – No.” You swallow. “My husband did not… He never…”

Tovar pushes the rest of the bread towards you. “You must ask him to do this. It makes it much more enjoyable for you, yes?” You are glad he does not expect an answer, this time, because you can make none. You are so flushed it makes you almost dizzy. “Best not to say to him where you get this idea from. He may not like that.”

“My husband is dead.” You say. Still staring at the knot in the wood. “He died when the attacks came from the east. Last summer.”

Tovar is quiet. You risk a glance. He is watching you still, but the smile is gone. He looks almost – pensive. Like he is lingering between two thoughts. He does not say sorry. He does not offer you any condolences. And it makes you guilty, but you are glad. Do not wish to hear anymore pity or second-hand sadness. He just watches you with his dark eyes. You take another small bite from the bread he’d given you. The bread he had brought with him from the inn in town when he’d followed you in the dusk back to your cottage. The bread you had watched him take from the bag of another man, a traveller with a velvet doublet and silk undershirt. It is very good bread. Filled with dried fruits and nuts. You push yourself up carefully and cross to the small chest of drawers. Pull the top drawer open and pretend to search for a knife. Stick your hand in far enough to pick up the purse which is still there and test its weight in your palm. Return it and pull out a long, serrated knife for the bread. Sit back at the table across from him.

He grins at you. “I did not steal your coin.”

You slice a piece and nibble at the side of it. Disappointed. Thought you had been more subtle than that. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do. And you are wise to check this.”

You say nothing to him. Continue to eat until you cannot anymore, and you push the last of it back to the middle of the table. Tovar takes it without another word and wraps it again in the wax paper it had been stolen in. Places it on the wide bench at the side of the room. Picks up one of the rags slung over the edge of the beam beneath it and wipes the crumbs onto the floor, nudges your arms off the surface of the table so he can wipe it over. You watch him, surprised. Had not expected him to show such care.

You need to let the hens out. To check the gardens. You had planted a bed too early in the winter and it had failed, and the rest you had planted too late. Had let the winter vegetables sit for too long before harvesting them. Had not turned the soil in preparation for summer. And now you were behind. You had not grown up on a farming property, and what you had learned from your husband you had never expected to have to do alone. Had expected to be able to afford to keep on your manservant. Had expected children. Had expected him to live longer. You rub at your brow and move into the bedroom to ready yourself. Don’t know how to ask Tovar to leave. Not sure you trust him in the cottage alone.

Tovar joins you while you dress, does not comment when you turn your back to him, pulling on your apron and attempting to tame your hair into a braid. Have to comb it for some time. He watches you openly. Pulls on his boots while you struggle with the knots. Watches your hands while you braid. Stares at the bruises trailing the length of your neck and jaw, phantom touches left behind, a trail from your ear to your nipple, disappearing beneath your dress. Does not seem to care that this embarrasses you. If anything he seems to enjoy it more because you squirm under his heavy gaze.

“I am going. I must go back to the camp.”

You nod without looking to him. Concentrate on tying the scarf around your hair.

“You will be sore today,” he says. As if this means nothing. As if he is simply observing something. And he is, you suppose. But it makes your stomach twist up and your thighs ache at the memory of him between them the night before. “You should not work too hard.”

The question tumbles out before you can stop it. Before you have even registered the thought. Not jealous. Not exactly. Curious. Scared. This is a world you have never known before this man, this soldier. A world you did not explore even with your husband. Are not allowed to talk about.

“Is that normal?” You frown.

“Hurting? Some types of hurting, these are good. Should not be a bad hurting.”

“No, I – ” You pick at your nailbed. “Not hurting. When, when you, with your mouth. You have done that before? With others?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

And the whole things makes you feel childish again. Silly and small. He is surprisingly kind. His is not laughing at you any longer. “This thing. Knowing these things. This is easier for men, because we are not blamed to seek these flesh comforts. But you should not feel bad for learning them. If they make you feel good.” He shrugs. “This way you can find many more things you like which will make you feel good.”

“There are more ways?”

He does laugh at this. “Many ways.”

“My husband, he never…” You cut yourself off. Horrified you would bring him up with this man, like this. Different to explaining his absence. Comparing them. You clamp your mouth shut. Tovar crosses to you and lays a hot, large hand over your shoulder. “How long are you staying in town?”

“I do not know. A week, maybe. And then we will go east again. This is how my life is.”

He sounds pleased with this. You do not ask him if you will see him again. He pulls his armour over his head and straps it around his torso. Collects his sword from where it leans. You walk him through the kitchen and into the stable, a wooden shack built against the stone wall of the cottage. His horse is mottled white and brown. Makes your mule skittish. You stay with him until he leads the mare out through your yard and into the fields surrounding. Far enough out of town that there are no people to watch him go. Close enough that you can hear the distant clamour of the regiment of army overflowing the village. You close the gate between you.

“Do you worry you will die?” You ask as he swings onto his mount.

“We will all die.” He says simply. “This is why we do the things which bring us pleasure.”

#look i am just soft for pero rn #and avoiding two other writing things like the plague #this is just so self indulgent again #i dont know what this is #honestly #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #my fic #fic #the great wall #pedro pascal

[unohanadaydreams]

Can you do 💍 and 💦 with Unohana and a fem!partner please!

YETH!! Unohana, ma’am pls let us adoring fans be carried away in your strong embrace. I was thirsting so hard that this is almost 2k words, so to everyone in lesbian with miss Unohana: come get your mf JUICE.

Also forgive me for using a non-manga cap, but google said only blood thirsty unohana and i cried.

RETSU UNOHANA + Arranged Marriage AU 

“Will you marry me, despite the thorns?”

Proposal:

When Yamamoto summons her to the 1st division, she assumes the purpose is clerical error. On his part--of course. Her underlings know far better than to hand in faulty reports. She’s relaxed and unassuming in the soft morning light, not yet brought rigid by disrespectful patients and the unskilled hands of Academy interns. Yamamoto takes his time getting to the point and comments on the good old days--the uncertain future--the pretty bird song outside the window. They sip at delicate white tea, steeped perfectly, at ease.

Only once she’s thanked Yamamoto for the relaxing chat does he lean forward with a heavy sigh and spill the bitter truth of the visit. Unohana knew his plan to arrange the marriages of eligible captains—to garner a secure future with stronger children—but she had thought herself getting entangled in such a plot unthinkable. The strength he sought could not be manufactured. Only the most prejudiced adversity churned out the strength of Hell itself. The monster that wore her skin in youth could not be born in comfort and raised by loving parents.

Nonetheless, he persisted. Yamamoto raised his voice in that insufferable tone that spoke of ‘noble causes’ and the ‘good of everything’ and demanded her cooperation. Unohana gave him a wonderful back and forth—made him endure the arguments of every devil’s advocate she could summon. Backing down without an enjoyable fight (or performance) was beyond her. The mix of free flowing tea and frustration in Yamamoto’s voice made for a wonderful morning spar.

But all swords must be drawn, eventually. After all, Unohana had chosen this as her lot in life. She was the captain of the 4th division and would aid the Gotei 13 to the best of her ability, for as long as she was able. Her only terms of surrender were: that she be able to propose and that she marry a woman. Not that Yamamoto could force her to marry a man on his best day.

Explaining the exact process of artificial insemination--to a man so entrenched in tradition there was a monthly fight between he and the other captains over the banning of soul phones—was enough for Unohana to leave smiling despite the bitter news.

Unohana has never considered herself a romantic. Considering her peers—like Jushiro and Shunsui--, she might be considered hostile to the idea of relationships. Avoiding romantic entanglements had been self preservation when she first joined the 4th division. Plants don’t properly grow when forced to share space.

She was thankful for her conviction to wait, too. Unohana has planted long, lush roots over the years. Marriage might be nice at this point. Someone to share her thoughts and frustrations with--someone to kiss in the mornings and hold at night--someone to grow in love with. The thought of growing roots with someone was only…somewhat daunting.

The manila folder sat on her desk the next day contains only sparse details. A glossy photo of you, draped in the beautiful silks of an expensive kimono, is on top. She stares at it for some time, trying in vain to parse how well you’ll fit into her life purely from the superficial, before being rushed to the side of a shinigami lucky they weren’t torn completely in half by a hollow.

It’s after the sun has set that she finds time for the singular page of written information in your ‘file’. There’s more sentences dedicated to the accomplishments and pedigree of your noble family than your self. But she takes earnest note of your listed hobbies and passions, even if they are sanitized into one unfeeling list, and smiles at what you both have in common.

The proposal is awkward, considering it’s also your first meeting. A calm face and gentle voice can only ease someone so much when their entire life is in upheaval and Unohana isn’t sure for who’s benefit she’s being purposefully placid for. She suggests a short walk, away from the shinigami chaperones that accompanied you. The smile she gives them when they start to follow churns your stomach. But she asks easy questions and you give expected answers and she is perfectly wane while addressing you.

When you start to smile back, your shoulders no longer up to your ears, Unohana invites you inside. The room she escorts you to is in full bloom. Rows of vivid flowers are paired in well-made arrangements behind a pile of haphazard lain blooms on towels. Two cushions sit with empty vases prepared, between the piles. You can only stare--all of this for you?

Her smile is serene when she directs it toward you. “I find occupied hands do well to ease tensions.” With an easy grace, she gestures to a cushion and does not move to sit until you’ve taken the wordless invitation.

Your tensions rise at the change of pace, despite her words. You feel confused and your sentences are stilted as you stumble over them. You know how Unohana came to sit here, in the Gotei 13—any good noble knows the pedigree of important figures. This—casually arranging flowers--was not what you had expected. All day, you had been prepared for a thin veil of manners concealing a fierce and unknowable menace.

Unohana stops your hand from falling victim to a thorny rose with a gentle hold of your wrist. You start, wrestled from your thoughts by the touch. Eyes wide, mouth gaping, you watch her don thick gloves and de-thorn the stem with practiced sweeps of a pairing knife.

The pale yellow rose seems like a peace offering when she hands it back to you, “you’re nervous.” Flushed, you apologize. She hums, continuing as if you hadn’t, “It was careless of me to leave the thorns.” You settle the rose into your arrangement and your nerves slowly settle with it.

It’s there, trading bits of conversation and odd silence, that she asks. As though she even needs to. “Will you marry me, despite the thorns?” There’s no expensive ring or desperate declaration of love. Just a vase of flowers, beautiful in its riot of colors, that she turns for you--so you may see its best side. Remembering her diligence in protecting you, you say yes.

Wedding Night:

You’ve heard whispers of what misfortune can take place in a marriage bed. Despite the oddity of your marriage, you still feel the tickle of fear slide down your back upon entering Unohana’s bedroom—well, your bedroom. She wears a beautiful kimono, like you, but her hair is free and her face is bare beyond a kiss of eye shadow and blush. The gruesome scar trailing the top of her kimono had taken much of your attention during the ceremony. Now, your eyes are transfixed on the large bed.

“On the chair there,” Unohana pointed toward a simple wooden chair to your right, “put that on, if you will. The bathroom’s to your left.” Nodding, you unfolded the black clothes on the seat of the chair to find…a shinigami uniform. You turned to ask why, only to find the room empty.

The more you were around Unohana, the more you realized how much of a captain she was. Never really asking questions so much as telling and always assuming it would be done. Nonetheless, you donned the uniform, taking off your wedding kimono with some regret—it really was a gorgeous creation of silks and embroidery. You assumed the bathroom was for your hair and make up to be taken down and off. It felt odd being bereft of all your wedding trappings when finished. Hours of preparation undone so quickly, with so little fanfare.

You didn’t have time to analyze how it all made you feel. Unohana was in the room again, when you shuffled out of the bathroom. “Come this way,” she smiled. “Unless you’re ready to sleep?” Did she mean sleep or…? Actually. You didn’t want to find out yet. “Where are we going?” “My dojo.”

The room was smaller than you expected. And barren, compared to the image you’d conjured in your mind—a few cushions, a thick mat on the far side, and some wooden swords resting against a wall were what greeted you. The walls were decidedly barren of wicked, complicated weaponry. Unohana went for the wooden swords. “I prefer katas over meditation before bed, nowadays.”

You’d never done a kata. You said as much. The sparkle of mischief in Unohana’s eyes ensnared you--enough to agree when she offered a lesson.

First, you observed. Her body moved slow, focused. She was beautiful to behold and your eyes danced from place to place, observing the small ways her graces manifested as she commanded her body from form to form.

“There,” she said. “A simple set to start. Come here.”

Leaving the cushion on shaky knees, you took the wooden sword she offered. The first two stances weren’t hard to find, but to keep. Your arms were wobbling as you searched for the third stance. Unohana chided you, like she’d seen the mistake a thousand times, and slid behind you, her front pressing to your back until you felt molded into the correct position. Even her arms, her hands, seemed a second skin over yours.

You looked back and instantly regretted it. Her face was inches away. Flushed, you couldn’t help but think how scandalous this all felt. The intimacy of her strong form guiding yours into the fourth stance and the feeling of her muscles flexed, keeping you from collapse dizzied your thoughts. “Is this our wedding night?”

“It is,” her voice was steady--frustratingly unaffected. “B-but. Is that allowed,” you whispered. Her face was so, so close. “We make the rules. It’s our marriage.”

The idea of an unconsummated marriage filled you with dread. You had no desire to fulfill your wifely duties tonight, but your family had always emphasized its importance. Spluttering just that—the importance of consummation—you insisted on…well, something!

“You’re sure?” It was her first real question. Too overwhelmed by the press of her body to resist, you said yes. With a clatter, the wooden sword dropped from your flimsy hold as her arms circled your waist. The first kiss was like an attack, sudden and firm. You were certain her grip was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. Especially when her tongue slid between your lips.

The confident way she conquered your mouth, as you were sure she conquered everything, left you buzzing. You opened your eyes, gathering yourself enough to put substantial weight on your legs again.

Unohana’s pupils were blown wide, her face flushed. The physical proof of her affected state made you feel pleased--almost giddy.

“Do you feel consummated?” “Y-yes. But I don’t think I can do anymore katas.”

Laughing, she lifted you into a bridal hold in one smooth motion. “It wasn’t a bad wedding night, then.”

#retsu unohana #retsu unohana x reader #bleach #imagines #bleach imagines #bleach headcanons #mars made it #unohana said: IM A LESBIAN HAROLD #i dont wanna talk about how long i spent on this #laksdjf;laksdjf

[maaji-maji-majima]

some kissing hcs for Majima?(if u can make it nsfw)

So I'm in a weird place with this. I don't want to leave you unanswered but I know you won't like the answer that I give. It has been a long time since I was active on tumblr and I'm not sure when along the timeline headcanon became synonymous with fanfiction. I appreciate fanfiction authors for their creativity, but I am not one myself. I use headcanon in the older definition of "this isn't in the source material, but it is true in my brain". They are either random things my half asleep mind thought of while walking home from work or a character analysis. At the same token your ask had crawled into my brainmeats and won't leave. So again, I apologize that this most definitely is not what you're looking for, but I hope someone out there finds this to be an interesting read.

Without further introduction, here is a character analysis of our favorite pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin in regards to relationships and why the he desperately needs therapy as brought to you by a different pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin who got therapy but probably needs more.

Trigger warnings: Abuse, self harm, mental disorders, poor coping strategies, unhealthy relationships, random tense changes, not fanfiction

Spoilers for the whole franchise, but very specifically for 0, K1, and 5.

Abuse does weird things to people's brains. In Yakuza 0 Majima has barely been out of the hole for a year. He might no longer be suffering the actual physical torture he had been subjected to the year prior, but he is still directly in the hands of his abusers and being watched every moment. He is still in a cage even if it doesn't look like one. He is depressed and likely suicidal, but doesn't follow through with those thoughts because he is determined to make sure Saejima has a home to come back to. He is willing to endure just about anything to allow Saejima a chance to exact that final moment of retribution because Saejima is the one who deserves it and Majima doesn't feel that there is any possibility for forgiveness. In all likelihood he hasn't sought out anyone for a hookup or paid company for an evening due to a combination of not feeling like he deserves anything that feels good and the fact that he's constantly being watched. The year in hole means he no longer really has a concept of privacy, but he's worried that getting close to someone, even for a few moments, could put them in danger if Sagawa or Shimano feels like holding something else over his head. It isn't worth accidentally dragging someone into his own personal hell. He no longer lives for the present, he is only living for that far-off future that he hopes isn't just a pipe dream.

Enter Makoto. At first she is a stand-in for Saejima's sister Yasuko, but it morphs rapidly from there. She is the light and kindness and hope that he hasn't seen in years and she's being dragged into his bullshit. He knows in his heart of hearts that she doesn't deserve what she is being forced into, so his mind snaps into the immediate and does everything he possibly can to save her. This is is the hill he wants to die on. Maybe, just maybe, he can end his miserable existence with a final act of good and he feels that Saejima might just be able to understand. But because he no longer has any relationships in his life that are not strictly professional or the abusers he cannot escape, he has little recollection of what a nuanced relationship or even friendship is any longer. Due to circumstance she is also the only person that he cannot keep at arm's length, no matter how desperately he tries. So he falls for her and falls hard. But in the end, after everything they go through he does the impossible. He lets her go. She has a life and a future, whereas he has neither of those. What would she do? Become his ane-san? Have some temporary happiness before she realizes she has a target on her back for the rest of her life? No. Majima believes she deserves so much more than that even though it hurts him deeply. What is one more hurt on top of everything else? He's gotten extremely good at burying his pain.

Getting to Tokyo flips a switch in Majima's brain. Like many people with mental trauma who don't have access to therapy he falls into excess as a way of self medicating. He fits virtually everything on the hedonism checklist. Drinking? Yeah. Violence? Hell yeah! Promiscuity? Yeah, but I ain't judging. Drugs? Probably, even though it isn't explicitly stated in game. Everything from his shift in personality to his wardrobe has become, intentionally or not, a defense mechanism. He has escaped from all of his abusers except for Shimano and he refuses to allow anyone to gain that kind of power over him again.

It is a double edged sword, however. His depression and PTSD are running unchecked. In all likelihood he hasn't fallen hard on vices as a way to reclaim ownership off his own body. Instead it seems more probable that he is dissociating. After everything he has been through he doesn't care what happens to his body in the long run because it isn't actually his anymore. Risky behavior, which is practically Majima's middle name, is also frequently used as a passive form of self harm because the end result is either temporarily feeling better thanks to endorphins and adrenaline or permanently feeling better after embracing death. He could achieve a similar feeling by taking up jogging and chasing a runners high, but that takes more time and energy than chugging a handle of whiskey or goading some chump into throwing hands. Sadly even now admitting to mental problems by seeking help is fairly stigmatized in Japan and it was only worse in the early 90s. Can't have a problem if no one tells you it's there, right?

Then he meets Mirei. She's intense but not wild like Majima. At that moment in time she is everything he needs. Head strong, domineering, and very, very determined. She knows exactly what buttons to press to wrap him right around her finger. And he lets her take the reigns, lets her run his life because he realizes he was doing a terrible job on his own. Better her than Shimano, right? Doing something wrong results in the cold shoulder instead of a vicious beating, and doing something right leads to more than simply the relief of avoiding a beating. He decides that making her happy is enough to make him happy. Until suddenly it isn't. He never wanted to be a father, but even the idea that he could have been was enough to cause a fundamental shift in his entire outlook on life. He could have had someone to live for, instead of just survive for. But he had no say in the matter and didn't know until the decision had been made for him. When Mirei told him she had an abortion he snapped. He hit her. The one and only time he raised his hands against her. Disgusted with himself, and wounded by her decision, he left. If he was capable of that, he knew couldn't be the person she had been trying to mold him into. He realized he was nothing but a weight around her neck dragging her down. And so that day signals the end of their short marriage. He spends the next several decades drowning in guilt for his actions while still resenting her for her choice.

That leaves us with Kiryu. Poor, oblivious Kiryu. Majima's fixation is multifaceted but in no small part due to the fact that Kiryu is one of the few people strong enough to hurt him, but is the only one that doesn't want to. And Majima just doesn't understand. After everything, he only deserves to hurt, right? Saejima, Yasuko, Makoto, Mirei. Everyone who gets too close to him ends up worse for it, so why won't Kiryu and his sense of honor seek justice on their behalf? So he does everything he possibly can to wind up Kiryu enough to Pay Attention Damnit, Fight Me. But Kiryu's response is always just flustered awkwardness because he doesn't want like fighting, it's just a part of his job, like wearing a suit or answering a phone. To Kiryu fighting isn't a thing done because it's enjoyable, it's done because it has to be. But he's still the only one who doesn't flinch when Majima brandishes a knife inches from his face.

And then Kiryu is arrested and in jail for ten years. And ten years is a long time to build someone up onto a pedestal. Like only wanting to talk about the best of a person after they've died. The same thing happened with Saejima. Build them in his mind to what he wants or needs them to be since they are not there to actively correct it. The decade is pretty miserable, going through the motions and trying to not make waves with the bigwigs while terrifying the minions into obedience. When he hears Kiryu is being released it is like waking up again. He all but waits at the taxi stand at the entrance of Kamurocho on the day of Kiryu's release, all but vibrating with excitement. It's a fight he has been waiting on for a decade, too bad it was little more than a disappointment.

So Majima decides to bring him back up to spec in that very Majima flavored way. Small fights, big fights, surprise fights. Kiryu is still reluctant because he doesn't have a reason beyond Majima's dreamed up training program he doesn't actually want to be a part of. Of course this only leads Majima to do everything possible to get under Kiryu's skin, including sharing his personal vulnerabilities while disguising them as jokes just to cause fights, but Kiryu just kind of rolls with it which leads to confusion and frustration on both sides. After a while Majima starts to get into Kiryu's hobbies, like pocket circuit, ostensibly as another form of picking a fight. And he discovers he actually enjoys a lot of it. And they are both too dense and emotionally stunted to realize they're basically dating at this point. At multiple points Majima takes potentially lethal blows meant for Kiryu and the excuse that he is the only one allowed to kill Kiryu is very, very thin. He just can't quite admit out loud that he doesn't want to see Kiryu truly hurt because that's weakness and he is Not Weak (tm).

Shimano's death and Kiryu's departure from the clan come as a whirlwind that destroys him all over again. He's left directionless. So he leaves the Tojo in an attempt to find his own way in the world, for the first time in over twenty years.

I think I need to call it here for now. I know I've left out Saejima and Daigo, among others, but I've been working on this for days and my progress has been eaten twice and I just don't have the energy to keep going right at this time. Maybe some day in the future I'll find the time and energy to write out the rest for all the other games.

tl;dr What Majima wants and what he needs are two different things. He wants to fightfuck, but he needs to be bear hugged into submission so that he can have that mental breakdown he's been carefully bottling up for over thirty years. He needs a good, ugly cry. And therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

#ask #character analysis #not fanfiction #yakuza games #yakuza headcanons #majima character analysis #rgg #rgg games #majima #majima goro #broken people doing broken things

[minsyal]

Headcanons for the boys s/o appearing to be a delicate lil flower but actually being filled with knives

Request: How would the boys feel about an s/o who’s some royal’s personal servant and looks delicate, but can actually take on monster camps with ease?

Revali

Revali will completely lowkey expect it

It happened as you were assisting the Princess as she made royal arrangements with the elder in the village. You trailed behind her, hands folded politely over your abdomen, staring blankly forward at the back of Link’s shoes. Honestly, you were excited. Until recently, your relationship with the Rito Champion had been kept a secret. One slip up and Zelda had caught you two sneaking around the grounds. 

The elder was politely speaking in hushed tones to the princess as Link stood to the rear of the room beside you. Revali had positioned himself near the princess but was paying them no mind. He was focused on you. His entertainment was not coming from the conversation, but instead the pink tinge that slowly crept its way to your cheeks. 

“You’re different around the Princess, you know?” Revali would comment once the Princess had retired for the night and was safely guarded in the Inn. 

It wasn’t rare for you to meet with him after dark. After all, that’s how the two of you met. 

Revali particularly took enjoyment in the different side of you he saw when you partook in your nightly “workout.” At first it worried him, he didn’t quite believe that you could handle the camp yourself. Once he realized your abilities, he was absolutely starstruck. It was love at first sight (but he wouldn’t admit that.) 

“I knew you were far more than you seem.” He’d comment as you strolled back to the village. 

“No you didn’t.” You scoffed, throwing your knife back into its holster before strapping it back in place. “You thought I was ‘delicate.” 

“Hmm.” He pondered for a moment. “No, I knew.” 

“Whatever, bird boy.” Your servants dress easily slipped over your head as the smooth fabric cascaded from your shoulders to your hips. 

Revali smirked, he was most certainly sure that he knew all along. 

Sidon

Sidon could absolutely not believe it

It was absolutely baffling when Sidon found out his father had hired a Hylian to act as a Zora royal servant. He initially found you to be so incredibly adorable. He loved the way you followed him around always ensuring he had what he needed and retrieving things when he asked.

What he didn’t expect was your ability to completely eradicate a camp of monsters that had decided the Zora River was a great place to set up shop. 

The two of you were making rounds on one of the nicer days. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the rushing water was providing a calming ambiance to your stroll. You liked Sidon, more so than many at the Domain believed. Surely there were people who saw through your ruse. Questioning eyes and harsh glares became a normal thing from the “Sidon Fan Club” that stood 20 feet away from him at all times, giggling insanely when he’d so much as glance in their direction. 

The two of you interlaced your fingers as he trudged forward. 

A horn sounded, interrupting your tranquil moment. Three lizalfos stood upon newly-constructed scaffolding near an old abandoned camp. The electricity emanating from their arrows was apparent and the quiver in Sidon’s touch didn’t go unnoticed. 

Without question, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the camp had been destroyed. Sidon stood there, wielding his rapier. 

“Oh.” The small word escaped his lips as he slashed it twice and put it away. “That was... unexpected.” 

“In a good way?” You wiped your hand down your face. 

“In a very good way!” A squeak escaped your lips as you were hoisted into the air. Sidon’s hands were placed firmly upon your hips as he swung you around. “That was astounding! Truly phenomenal!” 

“But dear, please never do that again.” 

Link

Link is like “wow that made me really nervous but I’m so happy to have this information now!”

Traveling outside of Hateno was practically unheard of for those who had lived there forever. Travelers often brought what the village needed and what they didn’t bring was grown. So for you, a Hateno native, to be coming and going from the village was truly a feat to behold. People were cautious here, they didn’t step out of any lines and always stuck to the path. It was rather boring after a whole lifetime. 

When Link arrived in the village he completely stirred everything up. The shop was seeing great profits, Bolson and Co was making bank, and the village children were telling tales that the mysterious knight brought along with him. That’s one of the things that drew you to him. 

He had partially expected it. He knew you weren’t one to stay at home selling the latest harvest of rice or wheat. You wanted to see Hyrule for everything it had to offer. You wanted to meet the Gerudo women, the Zoras, the Rito, and Gorons. Link was your ticket out, and you gladly took it. 

The first time you came across a monster camp with Link, he had instinctively crouched behind a boulder and pulled you down with him. A single finger pressed up against his lips as he motioned for you to stay quiet. Another pointed at your current position, telling you to stay put. You, though, had different plans. 

With a smirk on your face, you nodded innocently. As Link crept away, sword drawn, you did also. As he neared the first scaffolding where a particularly ugly bokoblin stood guard, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the entire camp was deserted; there wasn’t a single evil soul left in sight. 

You smiled at Link who had remained where he was, dumbfounded. 

After that, Link never asked you to stay back. After all, even if he did, he knew you wouldn’t listen. 

Teba 

Omg he has a wife wtf ya’ll

Hitting on a married man? 

You should be ashamed of yourselves. 

Kass

He’s also a married man

You want to split up his marriage? 

Shameful! 

Daruk

He’s honestly so proud and also so worried 

Because you’re so small compared to him! and he could have easily done it himself! But he’s so proud that you’re super strong and independent! 

Death Mountain was particularly hot today. The lava wasn’t quite spilling over, but it sure felt like it was. There was an odd feeling in the air. It had grown considerably thicker overnight as if something amiss was brewing. 

Daruk was up to his usual business. He had messed around the city all morning and was now rolling around the mountain searching for any straggling monsters left over from yesterday’s attack. You had perched yourself atop a peak, vaguely able to make out the smoke cloud as he disrupted the dirt below. You were, as he said, “My eyes in the skies.” He had insisted you had more in common with the Rito, who could swiftly fly to the highest points in Hyrule, than the Gorons who spent all of their time on the ground. 

Your eyes trailed him as he traveled to the east, but there was a clear disturbance to the west. A large dust cloud was collecting near one of the hot springs, the sight of nearly fifteen monsters as they marched toward the city was apparent. 

Without a second of doubt, you drew your glider and headed off. The land turned to open air as you drifted downward toward the crowd of foes. They stood no chance! There was no way Daruk would make it to the crowd in time, so alerting him would have to be put on the back burner. 

The bokoblins stood absolutely no chance to your archery skills. Several arrows later, the entire gang was gone - diminished to ash. 

Another puff of dust had you spinning on your toes only to come face to face with a worried and wide-eyed Daruk. 

“What’re ya doing?” He said slowly, eyes darting from the beasts to you. “I saw ya flying down here and... well... figured ya we’r in trouble.” An, uncharacteristic, small laugh escaped his lips as he knelt down. “But I guess ya handled it yerself’ pretty well! I didn’t know you were so handy with a bow!” 

“Ta’ think! You’ve got a lot of strength in that tiny body of yours!”

#revali #sidon #link #daruk #teba #kass #revali imagine #sidon imagine #link imagine #daruk imagine #botw #loz botw #revali botw #sidon botw #link botw #daruk botw #revali x reader #sidon x reader #link x reader #daruk x reader #botw fanfiction

[ezekielbhandarivalleros]

Adventure of the Past (Chapter 1)

Characters: Oliver Cochrane, Ezekiel Tweneboah, Unnamed Crewmembers 

Summary: I just starting writing this with no summary in mind

Taglist: @schnitzelbutterfingers @jaxsmutsuo @daddyethanramsey @choicesficwriterscreations, If you want to be tagged tell me

It was an early night; still plenty of light left yet no more of the sun visible. I smiled happily to myself as I realized the pleasant night in store for me. My hand rested on the railing of the ship as I walked across it. Tonight I was wearing something more elegant than the usual white cloak which was comfortable.

My bare feet padded the deck silently and the yellow dinner suit matched myself perfectly. Part of my dark hair was pulled back, but the majority of it I left down the other side of my face.  As I walked across the deck, I was greeted with smiles and glances of the other crew members, who only gazed upon my beauty but never for longer than a few seconds. They knew I belonged to Oliver and him alone.

I slowly walked up the stairs to his cabin. I knew every step and bump within the wood, but yet I took my time, making him wait in anticipation slightly longer. When I reached his door, I paused. My heart thumped rapidly and I breathed in deeply. I had been with this man for a year now yet the thought up being in his arms took my very breath away. That was when the door opened quit suddenly. I raised my eyes looking into his. He stood tall, smiling down at me mischievously. His golden hair swooped in front of his face, yet I could still see those beautiful eyes that captivated me. His left arm leaned up against the doorframe, holding his weight.

Then he reached forward and quickly pulled me to him into the room. We spun around and he shut the door, altogether pushing me against the wall in the same moment. I cried out in surprise as he pushed his body against mine. His lips touched mine and he passionately kissed me for quite some time, running his tongue gently over my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to control myself. With obvious domination, he pulled away unwillingly and smiled down at me lovingly. He knew he had me already yet now it seemed it was his turn to make me wait. He walked over to the table and pulled the cork out of the bottle, making the loud pop.

"Do come here, Love" he beckoned me to him. I smiled at him curiously and came over. Trying to be romantic, he started to pour some into a glass. Rolling my eyes, I took the bottle from him and drank a huge gulp.

"I do think we've gotten past the being shy part." I smiled at him playfully.

"Aye, we have that" he paused, and then looked me over, eyeing the curves of my body hungrily. I looked down, not in reserve, but to tease. I knew if I had met his eyes at that second I would have been his in a flash. But I wanted to play; I wanted him to want me so badly that when he did have me everything would be amazing. "But my Love, Ezekiel" he continued, walking closer to me. I gazed up at him, meeting his eyes. Big mistake. I felt like putty in his hands already. Then he pulled me to him once more. I placed my hands on his chest right below his shoulders and stared into his eyes as he spoke to me. "It will never change the way you look at me, nor how you dance in the moonlight, for me and me only." He spun me around once more so my back was facing him and placed his hands upon my hips as we gently rocked back and forth to the music in our minds.

He brushed the remaining hair from my face and gently caressed it with his lips as his hands slowly came up my body. I shivered in delight when his teeth gently grazed my neck. It was as if I could feel him smiling. He knew the effect he was having on me and he carefully and I gave in and let him. I gasped slightly when he unexpectedly picked me up and carried me over to the bed.

We were both eager in anticipation and I started to breath heavily at the thought. I looked up at him as he got on top of me carefully. His eyes sparkled and I slowly started to undo his shirt. He pushed layers of the thin material from my dress aside and excitedly ran his hands over my body. His hands made their way to my back and he tenderly picked me up, slicing the blade of his knife through the lace of the corset. I glared at him, and he laughed.

"Since when have I ever had the patience for those things? You should know better. Besides, I'm sure you could pillage more loot from some other unexpected soul." He whispered in my ear and I ran my hands over his chest now. Then he pushed me back down and placed his hands upon my body once more, running them over my exposed front. Moaning softly, I pressed up against him. I wanted him more than ever, and I kissed him deeply, giving my whole self to him. He was the only man I would ever love, and whom I would ever trust. He was mine and mine alone, for no one could break the bonds of friendship, love, and trust that we both had for each other. It was within this night that I truly realized how much my world revolved around him, and what I would do if something were to ever happen to him. I couldn’t imagine life without him…it was to be living without oxygen.

That was when the bell rang, sounding an alarm. It interrupted me from my deep thoughts and from the enjoyment of pleasuring. His hands ran down the side of me as he sat up. I looked to the door in bewilderment, hoping that it was just a figure of my imagination. Turning his head to mine I pulled him back down to me and started kissing him fervently when the bell was rung again and the sound of a canon ball hitting the water. Him and I both sat up instantly.

"Bloody hell!" I cursed loudly as he rolled off of me and stood up grabbing his affects. I swung my feet over the bed and sat up too, watching him. He was over at the window looking out the back of the ship and as he turned back to head to the door he stopped, taking a look at me.

"Ezekiel” he smiled, amused, and then threw my clothes at me. "get dressed." It was more of a question than a demand. Although we both knew very well that we were about to go into battle, there was still that wish of being back into each others arms. I sighed angrily and put on the dinner suit and slipped into the short pants. I knew he was already out on deck, and I ran over to the table and grabbed my sword , took a deep breath, shook my hair out, and followed him.

#Distant Shores #playchoices #oliver x mc #choices #oliver cochrane

[retvenkos]

Congratulations on the milestone!

🔥 Preferably Merlin, Percy Jackson or Harry Potter

I am a straight girl, a slytherin. I enjoy debating and literature. My zodiac sign is Aquarius. And I most definitely cannot talk about myself in a natural way. I am very opinionated and don't really enjoy fluff (like cute names and all that vanilla acting) though I like romantic actions. I like conflicted characters who are not particularly heroes as well as characters that don't open up straight away.

I am really curious about who you will pair me up with :^)

Congratulations again on the milestone, keep it up 😌😊

alright, just a disclaimer that it’s been a while since i’ve read percy jackson, so i’ll do my best, but my memory of the characters might be a little spotty.

Merlin:

I ship you with Elyan!

alright, so we all know that elyan is the ~mysterious~ knight, and that energy is perfect for you. you have to be at level 100 before he gives you his backstory, and you get to have a lot of fun theorizing about it, and slowly chipping away at his rough exterior. elyan is like, the definition of mysterious with a heart of gold and that’s honestly very iconic of him.

also, elyan would love that you are opinionated and have ambitions of your own - his sister is gwen, after all, so he’s very used to having lengthy debates. he would love to talk with you and have debates - you aren’t afraid to speak your mind, and he loves that about you.

the two of you probably talk a lot at the banquets and festivities that arthur throws as king - elyan finds them enjoyable for the first few moments, but he’s an introvert and needs time alone. the two of you manage to sneak off or at the very least find a quiet area, and you just talk - about anything and everything.

neither of you like to talk about yourselves very much. elyan is modest and he likes to keep up some mystery, and you struggle with talking about yourselves, so you often avoid topics about yourselves.

i imagine that, at some point, elyan asks you about yourself, and you tell him you’re not very good at talking about yourself, and so he says he’ll speak for you, then. and he lists off all of the qualities about you that he loves, and all of the little things he’s noticed, and he’s really spot on. he asks you how he did, and you compliment him and then proceed to tell him all of the things about himself that you have uncovered, and his smile - sort of proud and intrigued - is seared into your memory forever.

anyway, i think the two of you would make a fine couple - you’re both unique and independent, and yet elyan is incredibly loyal and would die for you.

furthermore, elyan, too, is not someone who is super big on excess fluff in a relationship. he’s a more private person, so his acts of love are kept for when the two of you are alone - not when all of camelot is looking. (though he does quite like stolen kisses in the corridors.)

i think that there would be a lot of deep understanding in your relationship, and so when elyan finally opens up to you (it’s after a long while, but when he’s ready, he does), he tells you all about his travels. you are one of the few to actually know all that happened to him in those years when he was alone, and when the other knights find out that you know, they beg you to tell them - percival likes to make guesses and you will either confirm or deny them.

(of course, you’ve confirmed complete lies, and percival has probably realized at this point that elyan did not fight off an entire village that outcasted him, creating a ghost town in his wake, but percival can never be sure which of your confirmed stories are real, and which ones are fake...)

Percy Jackson:

I ship you with Luke Castellan!

first of all, before luke joined kronos, he was actually a well-respected boy. like, camp members loved him - he was kind and had a witty personality, and he cared about the camp members, so he had a lot of loyalty to them. i can see all of this lining up with your personality really nicely.

i think luke would have really loved you! your opinions, your inventive way of thinking, your individuality, and your inexplicable luck? luke finds you fascinating - both kind but honest, both a dreamer but grounded in reality. you are his favorite person to be around, and he loves just watching you in your element.

idk if you are more of a sword fighter, knife fighter, or an archer (or whatever else have you - magic? necromancy perhaps?) but luke likes to watch you in action - you have such a determinedness to you, and you’re extremely clever, so watching you in battle is always fun. you outsmart your opponent and are fierce while doing so.

he also loves to relax with you while you’re reading - you thoroughly immerse yourself in novels, and he likes to watch the expressions cross your face - happiness and sorrow, confusion and excitement, he thinks it’s cute.

your introverted side mixed with his extroverted tendencies would be an interesting mixture - but i feel like luke enjoys his downtime and it wouldn’t be too much of a strain on your relationship.

i so think, though, that luke holds a lot of his cards close to his chest, and he doesn’t open up because he knows he has a lot to hide, and with you... it would be opening the floodgates. you definitely know this, and you want to know what he’s hiding. it’s a source of frustration for the both of you, and working through that is difficult.

Harry Potter:

I ship you with Sirius Black!

now, this was not my first thought, seeing as sirius kind of has it out for slytherin’s in general, but i can actually see this really working, so stick with me

i want to say that you and sirius were childhood acquaintances - maybe you’re from another pureblood family that’s always been in slytherin, and so your families often talk and bring their children along. you and sirius were encouraged to play with one another, and i imagine the two of you didn’t always get along

sirius is outgoing while you are reserved. both of you are a little arrogant (you mostly when it comes to your intellect). neither of you would back away from a fight, and generally you have a lot of tension together. with sirius, your strong opinions become scathing remarks, and your debates become arguments. he just knows how to infuriate you.

and yet, the two of you also seem to gravitate toward each other - in every room, you manage to find sirius and he manages to spot you. it’s irritating. 

i imagine that before you head off to hogwarts, your families meet up one last time, and you’re talking about hogwarts, and for once, you aren’t arguing. it’s rare that the two of you share these moments, but it happens every once in a while, and it’s happening again.

neither of you want to be in slytherin (and sirius coaxes this out of you with great difficulty) - you want to be a ravenclaw and he a gryffindor. you’re independent and witty and definitely clever - you could be in ravenclaw, but you also don’t want to betray your family. sirius says that if you end up in ravenclaw, the two of you can be social outcasts together - of course, you’d have to keep your bragging down to a minimum, and your debates, too. they can be awfully annoying. and you tell him alright - but he’d have to keep his pride in check, and that reckless abandon that gets him so often into trouble.

and then you get sorted. and he is in gryffindor. but you’re in slytherin. and part of you mourns just a bit for the connection the two of you could have had - the daring escape from your life that almost was.

and in your house, you’re wonderfully clever, but also introverted and independent, so you often go overlooked (as so many aquarius slytherins do). you often get spared by the pranks that the marauders do just because you hang back from the group, but you get in the thick of some of them, sometimes, and it’s easy to get frustrated at sirius all over again.

at holidays, when sirius returns home, you criticize sirius for his pranks, but the two of you don’t spend as much time together, anymore, and when you do, it’s mostly spent in silence - both of you reading books and avoiding the others gaze. it’s no longer a comfortable rivalry between the two of you - it’s awkward and tense.

i imagine that in your fifth year, the two of you end up being partners in some class or another - potions, maybe, or divination or something. at first, the two of you didn’t talk much, but one day sirius asks about regulus, and that opens up communication again.

and then it’s back to your frustrated debates (now done in whispers, so the teachers don’t hear) and sirius’ cheeky teasing. and occasionally, on days when both of you are sobered or maybe just tired, you have those soft conversations again. and neither of you are great at opening up, but both of you are feeling a little lost and maybe a little trapped, and your friendship grows over the course of the year.

neither of you talk in the halls very much, but he’ll slide into the chair across from you in the library, or he’ll catch you on your way out of the great hall, and slowly, a romance starts between the two of you.

of course, if word got out that you were having romantic feelings for sirius black - blasted off of his family’s tree sirius black - you would be in deep trouble with your family, so the two of you keep it a secret. 

it’s rough going, but both of you promise that after school gets out, you will run away together.

of course, fantasys can only live too long, and at some point in your seventh year, your parents want to make you a full on death eater.

i imagine that you are independent, driven, and steadfast in your beliefs enough to run away - you go into hiding from your family and leave hogwarts without graduating, only giving a cryptic message about where you are to sirius, asking him to go and find you when it’s safe.

now, this ending could go a couple different ways - sirius goes to you right after school and you join the order of the phoenix with him, it’s not safe so he has to wait a while and he goes to you after lily and james die (with baby harry ofc because he’s his godfather), or, he only ever makes it back to you after he’s been in azkaban for forever, or, even worse, he never makes it back to you.

oof. that’s rough, buddy.

#2.5k celebration! #celebration #lxncelotships #alright i went off on the sirius one but you can't tell me that story isn't hella interesting #ugh now i want to write a fic about it.......

[thenightau]

Chapter 35- Good Times for Help

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525842/chapters/56422468

TW: Swearing, Yelling, Slapstick humor, Dad jokes. 

Iskall looked down at himself, clad in iridescent diamond armor. He looked at Doc, False, and Cleo, all armored up and ready for a fight. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

“Ready yourselves. I see them.” Doc said, his voice a low snarl. For a moment, Iskall swore his robotic eye was narrowed in a glare. The grip on Iskall’s sword got tighter, and he felt his feet dig into the ground. His years of training being so natural it was like breathing. 

Tango was the first to land. His hands were up and none of them were wearing armor. A show of good faith. “Woah woah there! We don’t want a fight!” He said, a nervous smile growing on his lips. 

“You kidnapped Scar, what else did you expect?” Doc growled. Cub, Ren, and Impulse were the next to land, none of them carrying weapons. Impulse was just nervously playing with his shovels. 

“Okay. Fair enough.” Cub sighed, having heard Doc’s growl. He scratched at his beard, and thats when Doc realized something. 

“Your nervous. All of you.” He said bluntly. And the group deflated. 

“What happened?” Cleo asked quickly, her orange hair tied up in a ponytail. “Night didn’t get Scar did he?” She asked again, before anyone could respond. The group of traitors looked to one another. 

“It’s only fair if Ren explains.” Tango said with a bit of a glare himself. Ren pouted a fraction, a low growl leaving him. 

“It’s not my fault.” He said. 

“And we know that.” Impulse said. “But… It still happened.” 

“What happened?” Doc asked, walking closer. He grabbed Ren by his collar, pulling the werewolf to his height. “You better tell me now, or pray to the void that respawn is fixed.” His voice was a low growl, and it sent shivers up Iskall’s back. Ren’s hands shot up, and he laughed nervously. Tango and Impulse stepping forward to separate the two.

“Well… You see…” Ren started, laughing still as he was dropped onto the floor. He looked up at the creeper hybrid. “We kinda… Lost him.” 

“wHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ‘LOST’ HIM?!” Doc yelled, and the group flinched. 

“You see…” Cub walked over, getting in between Doc and Ren. “With last night being the full moon, of which we… were neglectful to realize. And Ren kinda… Killed him.” Cub smiled, his hands raised. 

“So what your saying is.” Cleo sighed, stepping foreward and placing a hand on Doc’s shoulders. The hybrid turned and backed off, steam practically leaving his skin. “Ren killed Scar. And respawn is fixed?” 

“That’s what it seems to be.” Cub said. Iskall scratched at his beard. 

“Did you check spawn?” He asked. 

“Yes. Impulse and Tango checked spawn while Ren and I checked his shops.” Cub said. 

“His base?” False suggested.

“Checked there too.” 

“The diamond mines?” Iskall asked. He got a confused look back. 

“The what?” 

“Scar’s mineshaft.” 

“Oh… no we didn’t.” Cub sighed. Iskall nodded. “I’ll check there myself-”

“Oh no you don’t.” Doc said, walking right back up to them and shoving Iskall out of the way, grabbing Cub’s wrist. “You are not going anywhere until you agree that Scar will be free. It’s not his fault he has magic.” Doc growled. 

“We don’t know if he’s working with Night, Doc. I explained thi-”

“What would Xisuma say?” Doc said suddenly. And that shut Cub right up. “He would be as pissed at you as I am. Because you’re what? Discriminating against him for shit he can’t control?” Doc growled. Cub deflated. 

“... Fine. On one condition.” Cub said, “We keep him away from his own base, and hidden somewhere. I don’t want Night finding him and using him.” 

“Deal.”

____

Scar was sitting on a black bed, The stone house around him built to be in ruins. It was clearly Cleo’s work, the armor stand work made him sure of that. He wasn’t sure what this was, but he bet it was a fun thing that had happened. A part of him was upset he hadn’t been invited to make some apocalyptic builds, another part wondering if Xb could predict the future. Because to him, it sure seemed like it. Xb was sitting beside him, an arm wrapped around his shoulders as the other was trying to talk to him. He couldn’t hear what the other was saying right now. Everything was muffled. He knew TFC was talking to Jevin and Hypno, and he knew here he was save from Ren and Cub. But he was still in pain. 

Some sort of deep seated pain that clung onto a man and only squeezed a bit tighter every time the thought of pain was brought up. The pain started in his heart, and spread out to every limb on his body, a numbing feeling all the way to his fingertips. The pain was mixed with another feeling. A swelling of magic. He refused to let his magic be released though, especially not around other hermits. He almost hurt Grian the last time! He couldn’t let that happen again. 

“Scar? Scar!” Jevin was in front of him now, his face one of gentle concern. “You with us?” He asked, and Scar nodded with a weak smile. 

“Yea. I’m here.” He said faintly. His voice was weak. He looked around. “Wait… Where’s Tfc?” He asked, an immediate surge of panic flooding through him.  

“Don’t worry about him. I think he’s off to yell at the other hermits. He’s our dad after all.” Jevin tried to joke lightly. Scar didn’t laugh. 

“You let him go?! By himself?! What about Night-? What about the civil war I-” 

“The other hermits won’t hurt him.” Jevin said calmly, his voice cutting through the layers of Scar’s panic. “Night won't get him.” 

“H...How are you so sure?” Scar asked softly. Xb responded next. 

“I mean. We’re the only one’s Night hasn’t attacked.” He said. Scar immediately bent to the side and knocked on the wooden floor. Xb chuckled at him. “Yet.” He said, to ease Scar’s superstitious mind. Scar nodded, and slowly sat up straight. “I don’t think he has much of a reason too. TFC especially. I mean, the man’s 50.” Xb smiled gently, and Scar nodded. 

“Yea… Guess you’re right. Sometimes I forget.” 

_____

Tfc sighed as he walked through the nether for the third time today. He hated this place, He prefered the overworld, but he also understood the world was changing. The nether was the fastest place to travel. And he needed to find a few people. Cub and Doc specifically. He stepped through Cub’s portal first, hoping to find the quote un quote ‘pharaoh’ in his pyramid. He walked into a cave, sighing and just carefully walking across the packed ice. 

He really couldn’t afford a broken hip right now. 

He climbed up and into Cub’s pyramid, and saw no one there. He groaned loudly, wondering where the hell those two were. He walked over to the ender chest, and threw it open. He watched as his own stuff magically appeared before him. He pulled his communicator onto his wrist, and pulled on his elytra. He hardly used the thing, but thankfully Grian had been teaching him how to use it before everything went down. He rummaged through Cub’s things, promising to put back anything he misplaced as he grabbed a stack and a half of fireworks. He left an IOU in their place. 

Tinfoilcheif: Hermit meeting. Now. 

His words were simple and to the point. But he knew the other hermits would take him seriously. 

Tinfoilcheif: Meet at Grian’s mansion in 20. No exceptions. 

Docm77: got it. 

Cubfan182: Understood. 

Tfc nodded, walking out of Cub’s pyramid and walking up to the top of it, grumbling the entire way up. He couldn’t believe the hermits were being so stupid. He got to the top of the pyramid, taking a rocket and sighing. “Grian I swear to god if this doesn’t work. I will personally give you permadeath.” He grumbled, taking a running jump off the building and firing the rocket. 

Air flew past him quickly, and his eyes shot open. He. He was flying! Tfc laughed a bit, firing off a few more rockets and flying into the air. He started to head towards Grian’s mansion, twisting his body in the air and gripping onto the edges of the elytra. He understood why the other hermits used these now! It was actually rather enjoyable! 

___

It didn’t take long for the hermits to assemble. Scar was holding onto Xb, terrified that Cub and Ren were gonna drag him back into that cage again. As soon as the others arrived and saw Scar, they deflated. They knew how much trouble they were in. Tfc stood in front of them, all of them gathered outside of Grian’s ‘basement’ area of his mansion. His arms were crossed, and he glared at the other hermits. 

“Ya know. I used to think you were all really understanding, reliable people. But as soon as your admin vanishes you go straight into chaos?! You kidnap a fellow hermit AFTER HE WAS ATTACKED and almost killed?! Xisuma would be ashamed of all of you! Going into Civil war?! What the Nether is wrong with you people?!” Tfc yelled, and even Doc shrunk under the old man’s anger. “Scar was and still is hurting. Iskall is hurting and don’t you DARE lie to me and say you’re not, boy!” He scolded, pointing directly at the green clad man. “Listen! We have a HUGE threat in this world! A huge threat to OTHER worlds! And you guys are just fighting like children amongst yourselves! Grian, Mumbo, Wels, Stress, Suma, and Bdubs. You all claim to not know why he’s going after people when there's an OBVIOUS connection between them!” Tfc started to pace back and forth, unable to stay still with his anger. 

“Mumbo is a redstone genius, Grian is an amazing builder, Wels is loyal to a fault, Stress is a damn princess, Suma is an admin and Bdubs is also an amazing builder! Stress is the only one whom I don’t see benefitting Night! But I don’t know the young lady well. You should be protecting each other! Not at each other's throats! Cub is right. Scar could be next. You should be protecting him. Not locking him away to be some cHEW TOY.” He roared. “Am i clear?” He asked, his eyes still narrowed as he looked at the hermits. They were all hunched over, looking like scolded children. “AM I CLEAR!?”

“YES SIR!” The hermits responded with tenseness. 

“Good. Now, I am going to do what I do best, while you all make up with each other, and come up with a battle plan. Scar. Can I use your diamond mine?” Tfc asked. Scar looked up, his face brightening a little. 

“d...Diamond mine challenge?” he offered weakly. Tfc smiled kindly. 

“If you think you can beat me.” 

___

The rules had been set by Scar. One hour, in a straight line. Whoever came back with the most diamonds won. Each person had an ender chest and their tools, as well as their own intuition. Doc at first demanded that they take someone else with them, but Tfc managed to get out of being followed by a hermit awkwardly for an hour. Scar ended up going on his mining trip with False while the other hermits sat at the mine's entrance, coming up with battle plans. 

Tfc wasn’t necessarily human. Well… he was, just, not fully. He was half dwarf. So not only was he shorter than most of the hermits- Stress and Scar were only exceptions- He naturally was able to mine faster without beacons, and it was much easier for him to find diamonds. Sweat was on his brow, the underground tunnel hot and cramped. But something about the situation was… calming for him. He was alone here, with only his thoughts, his pickaxe, and the sweet sweet smell of diamonds. 

He broke through the last diamond of a cluster when his communicator’s timer went off. And he looked down at it with a chuckle. Scar had absolutely no chance against him. When he looked up again, he saw stone bricks. And for a moment he thought he mined all the way to the stronghold. Before he remembered the stronghold was in the completely opposite direction. 

Tinfoilcheif: Guys. have any of you used stone bricks at lvl 12?

Docm77: I don’t believe so. Hold up, im coming after you. DON’T do anything. 

Tinfoilcheif: I’m digging through it. I hear something on the other side. 

“Hello?” Was what he heard, and movement. Was that Xisuma? He heard Grian telling him to shut up, and how he was lucky to even be getting food. He waited a few moments, pressing his ear to the stone brick. He felt it vibrating as someone- presumably Grian- walked away. He heard a wooden door slam closed, before he took out his pickaxe. He broke the piece of stone, and his eyes widened at seeing the admin. The admins eyes were just as wide. “Tfc-?!” His voice was quiet, nervous as he looked back and forth. “H...How did you find-?” 

“No time. Let's get you out of here. I’ll write down the coordinates, we can get Doc and the others to get Bdubs if he’s still on our side.” Tfc said, sending his coordinates in chat and pulling Xisuma out through the small exit he had made. He quickly replaced the stone. Xisuma started to run, and Tfc followed after him. 

“What’s been going on?” Xisuma asked, and Tfc sighed. 

“Scar was attacked, killed by Grian essentially. The hermits were about to go into civil war because they found out Scar wasn’t Vex, and Cub assumed he was on Night’s side, so he kidnapped him. I had to yell some sense back into them, and right now they're in Scar’s diamond mine, coming up with a plan. And void do we need you right now.” Tfc said, running behind the admin to protect his back. “You happen to have a plan by any chance? We’re struggling.” 

“Surprisingly? Yes.” Xisuma said, panting as they ran the thousands upon thousands of blocks back towards the mine. 

___

“XISUMA!” The hermits yelled, seeing Xisuma emerging with Tfc. They were all wide eyed, watching the two collapsed into panting heaps on the ground. Doc and Cub ran over to them, helping them lay on their backs and telling Cleo to go get them food and water. Tfc only realized then how hungry he was. His stomach was tensing up painfully, and he put a hand over his larger belly. 

“Tfc? You okay?” Scar asked, walking over to the two weakly. 

“Yea. Just fine kid.” Tfc said, taking the golden carrots Scar handed him and gladly chewing on a few, Xisuma doing the same. 

“Thank void you guys are okay.” Doc sighed. 

“I heard what happened, and frankly I can’t believe you guys.” Xisuma said with a sigh. “But that doesn’t matter now. Cause I have a plan. As admin, I can go into other worlds. I can take people and things to other worlds with me. So, lets get us some alley eh?” Xisuma said. 

“Tango, Impulse, and Cub. I need you to start making some houses to hold others. Doc, I trust you to be a manager here, make sure this all gets done. The houses and rooms don’t have to look pretty. But we’re going far from our little area. As close to the world border as we can go. Everyone, while I’m gone, Collect every bit of spare armor, weapons, diamonds. Anything you have. Iskall, go to your pigman farm and collect as much damn gold as you can carry. I have to go meet with a few of our dear Grian’s old friends.” Xisuma smiled, taking his mask when Cleo came back with it. He borrowed Tfc’s elytra and rockets, before he flew off to his own jungle base. 

The rest of the hermits started to rush back to their bases, even going through the ‘converted’ people’s bases to loot, despite feeling awful for doing so. They’d pay them back whatever was broken later, when they won against them. 

___

Wels was carrying Bdubs as they flew through the sky. And So far none of the Stars had found them or were chasing them. The two were locked in a never-ending cycle of apologies. Wels apologizing profusely for what he had done, while Bdubs tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault and not make them crash because Wels starts hyperventilating. They landed the first place Bdub recognised. “THERE! There's a nether portal at Keralis’s base!” He said, and Wels flew down, looking around quickly. The two ran into the portal, laughing as they were so close to the others. So close to their freedom. Bdubs grabbed Wels by the hand, running to the shopping district. 

They jumped through the shopping district's portal, went down the water elevators, and Bdubs ran straight for Tango’s fireworks shop. He grabbed a whole bunch of them, before running and nabbing an elytra. The two hermits quickly flew to Tango’s base, as it was one of the closer ones. They caught sight of the blond man running around and shoving things into skulers, the two of them tackling him. 

“TANGO!” The two yelled, and Tango screamed- totally not in a high pitch, girly shriek of terror- as he landed hard on the ground. 

“Bdubs?! WELS?!” He yelled, laughing as he wrapped his arms around the two. “Oh my void you guys are okay! But- But I thought Wels was one of them-?” Tango asked, adn Bdubs nodded. 

“I managed to break the spell! A song of true love~” Bdubs grinned. Wels punched his arm.

“The idiot is only half right.” He said fondly. Bdubs and Tango laughed. 

“Come on, I need help packing everything together.” Tango said. The two got off him and looked at him odd. 

“How come?” 

“Tfc managed to accidentally mine into Night’s base. That means we have a direct link to him-their?-base. But they also have a direct link to us. So once they realize Xisuma is missing…”

“You’re doomed?”

“To the extreme.” 

“Alright! Wels then let's get goin-!”

Bdubs got a groan for that one. 

__

Xisuma sighed, walking through Grian’s old world. Evo. He knew some people might still be here, but he wasn’t sure who currently. He looked around at all the old textures. At the lack of blocks he was so used too- certainly no honey blocks that is. “Hello??” He called out, cupping his hands over his mouth. He was at Evo’s spawn area, not having moved yet off the platform. He saw Grian’s city in the background of spawn, and chuckled a bit. The little gremlin really left his element when he left Evo. And god was Xisuma proud of him. 

He started to walk around the mob ridden area, with only a diamond sword with him. He saw a flash of lavender from the corner of his eyes, in a tree. And he ran up to it. “HEY! Are you Nettyplays!?” He called out, and a panda hybrid poked her head out of the tree.

“Um… yes thats me! Who are you?” She asked kindly, “Wait, let me get down there!” She chirped, climbing down her ladder. 

“My name is Xisuma, I’m an admin. And I was wondering, You’re friends with Grain right?”

“Oh absolutely! Has he been okay?? He hasn’t been sending letters for a few weeks now!” 

“Ahhh… about that.” 

“What trouble has he got into-?”

“A lot. Let me explain to the best of my knowledge…” 

~

“So what your telling me is. Theres this scary void guy and he wants too… rule the universe?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“And he… processed Grian and a few others into joining him?” 

“Yeup.” 

“And you need me to go get my brother and his friends to help you get Grian back?” 

“That be ideal.” 

“Why don’t you move worlds?”

“He’d probably end up corrupting all of them.” 

“Touche.” 

Netty was sitting down, Her and Xisuma having made a small fire pit. She scratched at her neck, but sighed. “Anything to help Grian. I’ll get in touch with my brother. Actually! I can give you his world name! Would that help? And the names of a few others!” 

“Would you? That’d be awesome!” Xisuma said. 

“Stampy's lovely world, and Squid’s sky island!” Netty smiled. Xisuma nodded. “And I’ll come with you! My brother can be a bit… food driven. I know how to convince ‘em.” She giggled. And Xisuma chuckled. 

“Alright then! Thank you so much Netty. It means so much to me. To us.” Xisuma stood up and went over to spawn, which thankfully wasn’t too far away. He let out a breath, using his voice abilities and only softly mumbling the words. 

“Stampy’s lovely world.” 

___

Xisuma paused when they got to the world. “Holy…” He mumbled, looking around the vast and completely filled to the brim world. There was so many lights, shops, and he even saw a few rides in the background. He yelped when Netty grabbed his hand and started to run, running straight to a house over a bay. 

“STAMPY!” Netty yelled, and a few people poked out of no where, all animal hybrids. Reindeer, elephant, ect. What caught his attention though, was a bright orange cat. 

“He looks so fluffy-” Xisuma mumbled under his breath. He heard Netty giggle before explaining the entire situation to her shell shocked brother, waving her arms about and gathering the crowd of helpers. 

“So we really really REALLY need you’re help! And you’re dog’s help too!” Netty finished. And Stampy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. 

“You’re so lucky I love you Netty.” 

“YES!!! Thank you Stampy!” She hugged her brother, and Stampy laughed. His laugh was a wheezing one, happy and infectious. Xisuma chuckled softly. “Stampy! This is Xisuma. He’s a fellow admin!” She chirped. 

“Nice to meet you! Can I call you X?” He asked, Xisuma waved his arms around shyly. 

“Ah… I’d rather you not. That’s… kinda what we call my twin.” Xisuma said. 

“Oh! Sorry then!” 

__

Doc watched as the others scramble around in the snow biome, making homes and work areas out of whatever materials they could get at their base and shops. It was quite amusing honestly, watching Cub run around like a chicken without his head. He was perched on top of a tree, looking at the village beside them and sighing. “Poor, poor villagers.” He said slowly, leaning back into the spruce tree. “They probably don’t understand whats going on.” He said, monologuing again. He held his sword in his hand, running his finger along the blade. “Oh It will be amazing once I get this sword through that creatures chest.” He grinned lowly, the expression twisted. 

“OI DOC! STOP DAY DREAMING OF MURDER AND HELP US!” False yelled. 

“Okay okay! Damn! No need to shout!” He said, jumping out of the tree. False rolled her eyes fondly, and Doc walked over to help her build the small, two to three person homes. “I wonder who Xisuma is bringing though. It make more sense to go to Stress’s kingdom and get her parents army to help us fight.” 

“Xisuma is our admin, not our brain cell.” 

“Very true.”  

The group paused when they got an influx of notifications on their communicators. 

Stamplongnose has joined the server

Nettyplays has joined the server

Iballisticsquid has joined the server

Mithzan has joined the server

Yourpalross has joined the server. 

And around twenty other people. Doc whistled lowly. “Daamn. And its only been an hour. ‘suma works fast.” 

False laughed. “Oh my void. I think those are other admins. And Grian’s old friends.” She grinned. “Oh Night is officially fucked.” 

___

“WHY THE FUCK IS SKY HERE?!” 

“BECAUSE I DON'T WANT MY WORLD CORRUPTED THANKS!” 

“Guys! Calm down-”

“MAX CHILL OUT!”

“SHUT IT POOKIE!” 

Xisuma pinched the bridge of his nose, bashing his head into a crafting table. Okay. Maybe he should’ve thought this through a bit more. “We don’t have time for you’re bickering. Come on. Lets get you elytras and we’re heading out.” Xisuma said, opening a chest full of boasts and throwing them down for everyone. He found out the names of these other admins and they were… and interesting bunch. 

Max and Ross were both admins to a lot of worlds, same with Sky- aka Adam. He was lucky he accidentally ended up in another server, with access to so many good pvpers. But… the bickering was unbearable. He guided everyone to the shopping district, being as discreet as he could with 20 people. 

___

Night knew of the others that joined the server. He had Bdub’s and Xisuma’s communicators after all. And he was quick to alert his Star’s on the situation. Assuring them that failure was not an option, no matter what. He noticed the flickering in Bird’s eyes, for now just assuming that was Grian telling him who these new people were… 

It was in fact, quite the opposite. Currently going on in ‘Birds’ head was…

“oH MY VOID NETTY AND TAURUS ARE HERE! THEY DO CARE!!! HOLY SHIT! HAHAHA FUCK YOU!” 

“Oh my vOID SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I ACTUALLY THROW US DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS.” 

Around 20 minutes later, after Night had explained the situation, Observer was trying to find the winged Star, only… only to see him at the top of a ginormous staircase. “Bird?! What are you doing?!” He yelled, only to screech as the avian threw himself down the staircase. He watched the winged man thud down nearly 64 stair blocks of varying materials. Observer watched with a deep frown, and he could hear Mumbo’s hysterical laughter in the background. He watched as Bird got to the bottom of the stairs, groaning loudly in pain. 

“Well did you really think that was a smart idea?” Observer asked, holding back his urge to laugh. Bird nodded as he groaned. 

“I think I broke every bone in this body.” 

~Ollie ;)

#the night au #night au #Nightau!TFC #TFC #Zombiecleo #Grian #Evo #Evolution #Surprise guests ;) #ten pages long #Major character save

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 3

 Thanks, I Hate It!

This week, we move forward by first jumping backwards. Last episode, the Bad Kids found that Riz and Fig were missing. Now, we get to see what happened in the meantime. Riz was in his office, trying to put together anything new on the Nightmare King. We’re reminded that his sword--the Sword of Shadows which he got from the arcade and lets him misty step (also, which he used to kill Kalvaxus)--was made by Tabaxi ninjas (seemingly relevant considering the whole Shadowcat thing). He notices that, in his photo, Kalina’s image doesn’t look as time-worn as the rest of it, as if only the part where she appears was protected. He hears a noise and goes to investigate. What he finds, is a creepy-ass nightmare skeleton person in the mirror claiming to be Baron, from the Baronees (the person he on the fly lied--poorly--that he was dating in ep 1). Respecting the fact that Murph never clarified whether Baron was a guy or a girl, Brennan has Baron exclusively refer to themselves as Riz’s R̵̪̹̄o̸̱͝m̸͔͔̂̽a̴͕̾̈́n̵͙̬͒c̸̣̏͠ḙ̸̃̓ ̶̞̇̕P̸̞͚̈́a̸͉͒͝r̴̛͈͈t̷͓͇̋͒n̸̬͛̈́e̴̮̒r̴̝̃̓ in this mega-cursed, fake Swedish(?) accent.

Thanks, I hate it. 

Riz, faced with his lie brought to life, is pretty freaked and tries to shoot it but he’s quickly subdued and dragged into the mirror. Luckily, he’s able to leave the photo for his friends to find. 

Meanwhile, Fig spent the night in a weird fugue state--almost like an enjoyable nightmare. Most of her focus is on this feeling of isolation, fame, and power--but in a good way. In the background, she’s doing some unimportant stuff. You know, packing her stuff, stealing a gem, trapping Gorthalax in it, and going to Bastion City. No big deal. Anyway, that brings us back to the present with the rest of our party.

They make it to Bastion City and, more importantly, the hotel where Fig is supposed to be. On the way, Adaine tries to detect magic on Sandra-Lynn to try and figure out why she can see the photograph but nothing comes up. At the hotel, they unsuccessfully try to get the concierge to tell them where Fig’s room is. Adaine detects that the receptionist has some kind of transmutation on them and her first thought is, “Magic plastic surgery.” She dispels it. Not magic plastic surgery. The concierge is a demon--which is different and worse than devils who are at least lawful and, like, part of the bureaucracy of punishing people who deserve it.

Anyway, fight time! A lot happens during this fight so I’m going to try and highlight the most important parts:

All the employees in the immediate area turn into various demons to fight the party.

Adaine and Kristen catch sight of Fig’s room number (downstairs penthouse) right before the fight starts and, at the top of the initiative, Adaine goes invisible and runs for the elevator. 

Fabian vaults of Gilear’s face--unnecessarily--and rolls a nat 20.

Gilear (who has FIVE hit points) ducks and covers because of course he does. That doesn’t stop him from being completely obliterated by one punch from one of the huge gorilla demons. He freaking DIES. Thanks, I hate it.

Downstairs, Adaine finds a bunch more demons who are with Fig who is clearly being mind controlled. They have Riz strapped to a table and Fig’s about to stab him with a ritualistic knife. Adaine goes for a dispel magic and gets advantage because of Boggy which leads to her rolling *two nat 20s* and snapping her out of it immediately. 

In a very boss move, Fig immediately grabs Riz and dimension doors him out of his restraints and them both to the coat check where she left the ruby with Gorthalax. Before they poof out, Riz sees yellow eyes in the shadows. Familiar tabaxi eyes. Seemed like she was calling shots. 

Riz gets in a very cool kill with the line, “Tell Daybreak I said hi.”

Fig finds out Gilear is dead and grabs his soul. Kristen heals him up.

Fabian vaults off of Gilear a second time and rolls a nat 1, sending him back into death saves. 

Kristen tosses a spare the dying at Gilear and then kisses full wolfed out Tracker because time isn’t of the essence or anything.

Fig grabs the ruby Gorthalax is in and sees that it’s cloudy--cursed somehow to keep them from breaking him out. Not good. She also finds a bunch of other gems which she also grabs.

We meet Kristen’s new spirit guardians which are now hipster Post-Grad philosophy students in a full spectral coffee shop. She finds them insufferable but is also kind of into it. 

They clean up the rest of the demons and then Fabian does donuts on the Hangman. And we are out of combat.

Fig is a little distraught about having almost killed Riz and brought them all into this dangerous situation which literally killed Gilear--even though no one else blames her even a little. Gilear has a bit of a breakdown which is fair. The man died. They try to send him home--Fig wants to give him 10k gold and send him on vacation--but he is determined to stay and experience things and be useful. Also, Fabian has it in his (and Gorgug’s) head that Gilear must be some kind of chosen one since one of the demons in the fight chose to attack Gilear over him. 

Fig looks through the other gems she got and only one--a Celestial Sapphire--is similar to size to Gorthalax’s. When they bring it out, a slot in Gorgug’s van pops open. They slot the Sapphire in and, through the radio, an Angelic voice speaks to them. He sounds like Owen Wilson and he doesn’t remember his name. The Hangman hates him immediately. Fig pretends to be a cop to get info from the cops that arrive on the scene, doesn’t find out anything useful, but does roll a nat 20 on her deception (come on) and briefly turns the game into the sister, cop-drama show set in the same universe as the Grey’s Anatomy sham-life she’s living, kissing another full adult man. Incredible. 

They regroup at a posh restaurant/cafe called The Swan’s Little Parade. Sklonda calls and, after she and Sandra-Lynn do the mom-catch up thing, she has a quick talk with Riz where we find out a few things about Kalina:

She only worked with Pok on missions between Falinel and Solace.

She was great at going invisible and other infiltration things.

(Note: We actually learned this earlier but I wanted to keep this info together)She looks more like a traditional housecat than a big cat like some other tabaxi.

It’s extremely hard to scry on her. 

She didn’t attend Pok’s funeral.

The last time Sklonda heard from her was 12ish years ago.

Riz only encountered her a few times as a kid. 

Last Sklonda remembers, she reached out to Pok it was something to do with the ship the Oracle sank on. 

They pass around the picture to see who can see it and not only does it appear that Ragh can see her (oh, kinda implied this before but Riz can too) he also seemed really bugged out. Tracker says she can use her cleric mojo to put up some wards to (1) keep them from getting mind whammied like Fig did overnight and (2) maybe make Ragh feel safe enough to talk. She also suggests they all sleep in a huge dog pile for safety which I think is great and someone should draw that.

Gorgug gets a text. It’s Zelda. She can’t believe he left without saying goodbye.

Thanks, I hate it. 

Detention

Fabian for Using Gilear as a Launch Pad Two (2) Times

This was a top contender for this spot, even before Fabian did this a second time and screwed up so bad (nat 1!) that Gilear dropped to zero again and had to make death saving throws.    

Honor Roll

Adaine for Freeing Fig 

Listen, I will freely admit that I have a clear bias towards Adaine. You got me. She’s my favorite. HOWEVER, you cannot tell me that going invisible, rushing straight to the elevator, then rolling double nat 20s (a 1/400 chance) to release Fig from domination right before she plunged a knife into Riz’s heart wasn’t the sickest series of events that happened during this ep. What could possibly compete? 

Random Thoughts

I’ve been trying to figure out the rhyme or reason to who can see the full photo but I haven’t figured out a pattern yet. It’s not that only people who have seen her before can see her because Sandra-Lynn can see it and she said she’s never met her--although I guess it’s possible that she has and she didn’t recognize her since she’s a super spy. And it’s not a blanket thing on the Bad Kids specifically because Riz can see her. I was hoping they’d show it to more people so we could get a better idea of the rules. Maybe it’s based entirely on if she wants to be seen by that specific person? But then why wouldn’t it default to the blank image. It seems (from our limited POV) that most people can see her. Maybe for most people a blank space would be more suspicious than a random tabaxi? Idk.  

Riz forcibly installing himself as Fabian’s best friend and it working is low key the funniest relationship development in FH. I’m so glad Murph and Lou ran with that. Also, the fact that he’s basically accepted that Riz is his best friend but the Hangman hasn’t at all is so good. 

Brennan really just shot Zac in the head at point blank range at the end of the episode, huh? He really just did that to our boy. What’s also funny is that, unlike--say--CR where there’s usually at least a good minute of decompression and goodbyes, Brennan just goes for the kill shot and then peaces out immediately. What a power move. 

Also, poor Zelda! She’s already so insecure, this isn’t gonna be good for her self esteem. Arguably, there were extenuating circumstances Gorgug can claim but you know that’s only gonna help so much since he def could have at least called/texted her to let her know he had to leave in a hurry because Fig/Riz were missing. I wonder if there’s a section of the binder on this. 

For reference, the demons they fight in the hotel lobby are a Cambion, and then several barlgura and skeksis.

“He’s just a guy!” He certainly is. Check out his stats. Hilarious but also, I can’t act like my stats would look that much different. 

I truly, truly cannot believe that Emily pulled the exact same hospital stunt again and it resolved in exactly the same way. This is like when I played blackjack with my brother when I was a teenager to teach him that the house always wins and he hit 21 twice in a row. 

Also on the topic of Fig, her coming down from her mind control was my favorite part of this episode, for a couple of reasons. I love how sincerely Emily played the immediate shock and horror at what she almost did (closed book my ass). I love how every other person was so happy to get her back. I love that none of them even entertained the thought that she might be dangerous or untrustworthy now. Relationships at the intersection of constant bullying and ride or die are my favorite. 

While we’re on the topic of emotional scenes, Gilear full breaking down in the van post-fight was very funny but you also genuinely felt for the guy. It’s been a really long day for the guy and he died like one and a half times. His, “I haven’t experienced anything before this moment,” line really hit me hard. And I think it’s very wild that Brennan set the DC for convincing him to go home at 25 (which Fig did not pass with a 21). It’s very interesting that Gilear’s reaction to this series of events was to double down and be like, I *need* to be here. Seems like this could be a set up for some interesting Gilear development. 

The amount of times I have almost typed Balnor is unreal. My brain stores all the middle aged men hanging out with people too young for him to be hanging out with in the same folder.  

I can’t believe Adaine just went for that dispel except that I can because she did the exact thing with Iris’ wig at the NY live show and I couldn’t believe that either! I really did not think (1) that was a good move or (2) gonna lead to combat (except for the kind that gets you banned from a hotel). I completely misread that situation. Like, it’s a world full of magic. It’s not that weird that a random person would have a spell on them. Anyway, this is why she’s the oracle and I’m not. 

The Barlgura needed a 3 or higher to hit Gilear. He got a 19. Yikes.

“I had to ask.”/ “No you didn’t.” (The crew explodes into laughter.)

Riz tells the whole gang about the Baron thing and tells everyone that they need to stop lying in case all their lies are gonna pop out and attack them. Gorgug admits that he’s kissed the Hangman. Kristen confesses to a group of her closest friends and girlfriend that she is gay. Tracker is like, “Babe, what?” Tracker (and the Bad Kids but in a different way) must really love Kristen because she is just so much all the time. 

Fabian: Who are you seeing then?/Riz:...................No one. 

Ally Middle Name Beardsly wtf is a paranoia check? 

The comedic rhythm of Fabian vaulting off of Gilear’s face with a nat 20, him dying, being resurrected, and the Fabian trying to do it again with a nat 1 and knocking him near death is so perfect that it’s wild that it was totally random. This is the kind of thing that makes you get superstitious about dice. 

We’re introduced to Boggy’s second mood this ep which is Boggy’s mood which is a slightly squinted, “Hmm...I don’t know about this.” Thanks, I love it. 

In addition to considering Gilear might be the chosen one (by who? Of what? They don’t know and neither do I) the half of the group entertaining this theory also considers Gilear might be the Nightmare King (”If you are you have to tell me. I’m your daughter.”). I don’t know if the NK does possession but please have the NK possess Gilear at some point. If the theme of this season is carefully filing away random off the cuff gags and making them plot relevant, please let this be one of them. Also, lol at Murph trying to roll high enough so that Riz has the knowledge to stop the shenanigans before it derails the whole campaign.  

The group bestows upon Gilear the positions of Tour Manager, Social Media Manager, and Honorary Bad Kid (listed last of course).

Fig grabbed a lanyard of out Adaine’s jacket and I remembered, oh yeah, she has a very magical jacket that is only ever used for shenanigans, if at all. Imagine being so magic that you have a magic jacket that you’re always wearing that can summon anything (w/i reason) and you just kinda...forget about it most of the time. 

Curious about why Fig specifically was called in to do the sacrifice and why Riz was the one who had to be sacrificed. 

I hope Adaine just continues to loan out Boggy to anyone having a bad day. I love that.

“Maybe this is one of those massages that hurt.”

Really wanted Hilariel to Skype in and ask about Gilear. Her take on everything is always so funny. She is as crazy as everyone else in her family but in such a low key way.  

Lol at the party being like, “Yeah, Tracker healed me just fine without any 69-ing,” which is truly an incomprehensible sentence without context and still mostly incomprehensible with context. 

Don’t wanna overlook the coolness of Fig rolling double 17s (disadvantaged) to command the barlguras. Not magically, just convincing them she was still in charge of them. Very clutch.

Fabian is so much chiller about letting people on his motorbike these days. He let Gilear ride it. He let Riz ride it. He gave a blanket invitation for anyone in the area to hop on before he did donuts. I love Sophomore Fabian. 

Gilear gets a nat 20 for his first roll! Riz and Kristen got two nat 20s. Fig got one, Gorgug got one (he rolled a second one that was lost with disadvantage), and Adaine rolled two but they really only count as one since it was with advantage. Fabian rolled one of each. That’s a lot of 20s for one ep!

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #dimension 20 #fantasy high spoilers #report card

[creation-is-chaos]

‘The Enemy of My Enemy Sings Songs Of Poison Melodies’ | Mad Alt Plot

Clandestine is the night of secret rendezvous in the cover of darkness. Most lucrative times for unsavory activity but this is mere business. Always in the eyes of the man who walks with midnight on his shoulders, coat tail swinging in his fluid steps, he lifted a gloved hand to stop the approaching figure. At the time time it seemed to be rather innocent. Despite leaving his Camaro parked outside of the gate it loomed undercover. The black sheen does make for a perfect getaway in times of these. Nighttime is his time. 

“H-hello,” the figure stuttered out into the crisp air. 

“Chilly this evening.” Corvus had commented on the weather as if he were not in the middle of a private affair. An affair never of passion’s lust but passion’s just violence. “Does it affect your speech pattern? Teeth chattering? Or are you simply here to insult me?” The questions rang with impatience, voice dark in the scrutiny of the other man. No, not a man. 

As Corvus soon stepped forward under the single light cast from an iron lamppost he saw them clearly. His brow furrowed slightly. A boy? 

“What are you doing here?” Demanding it quickly, he curled fingers onto the silver wolf head of his cane. Eyes darted over the expanse of the enclosure, brick scuffing beneath his soles as he moved closer. “You boy.” Gripping him by the shoulder, he glared, lip curling up over his teeth. “Who did you see come here? Who?!” 

“Careful Dear DeVille.” A voice cut the air smoothly, feminine alluding to another who watched from shadows. He enjoys to blend as a dark hubris among the clouds. She steps out in stark white tiptoeing the contrast of all. “We wouldn’t want to scare the child would we?” 

Corvus yanked the boy to him. Pulling the thin sword from the cane holder flashed the blade up and center of this decoy’s throat. He twisted his leather hand in a threat. “Perhaps I will spill his blood instead. If you do not tell me your reasons for being here....Frost.” 

She took a step. Heels clicking in tandem to short cautious steps, the woman donned a coat over her shoulders, tailored to match her suit. Stylish even among the decree of vile back alley deals. At least they shared the same taste. No filthy alley but a lovely gated property owned by the very man he expected to find. 

“This is all rather simple, DeVille. I am here to greet you for our mutual friend. Mr. Farmer wishes he could see you but he is a bit - uncertain of your intentions.” She waved a hand at the current hostage he had. “It seems his caution was warranted. Considering you have his nephew.” 

Nephew? Corvus’ eyes flit down at the boy breathing hard in his grip. His right eyebrow arched at the woman. Not just any unknown woman but one he knows well from past dealings. Holland Frost. She does perform with appropriate frigidity. “A man who sends a child, his kin no less, leaves something to be desired.” Corvus nudged the boy aside. He sprinted away but the man hardly paid attention. Instead his dark gaze remained with Holland’s ice. 

Holland laughed briefly. “Oh my,” she teased him, clapping hands together. “You let him go? My you are growing soft. Though I imagine it all has to do with your lost baby.” Holland lets it hang in the air as his expression transitions from emotionless to a glimmer. Oh but a glimmer of emotion is worth a thousand words.

Corvus drew the sword outward. Pointing to the woman who stood far enough on the other side of the circular alcove, he snarled. “Cunning bitch.” 

“Am I? Do not act so surprised. You and your boyfriend Kamski are not the only two who have a set of eyes on this city. We’re not the only players in this twisted game we weave Dear DeVille. You should know that better.” 

“I know plenty,” he corrects. “I know you are one of the better snakes in Detroit. It is quite enjoyable to see you again, Holland. A shame I cannot say so often. Though you do have me at a disadvantage.... for once.” 

“If you mean that little detective you and your almost lover fuck then I consider it an accomplishment.” Holland did not mince words. Her lips purse looking over his stance. “I enjoy a man who likes their swords. And has a sword to use properly.” She paused, reaching into the bag in her hand.” 

Corvus jabbed the sword in a motion to stop her. “I suggest not moving. Or I will slice directly through your throat.”

She smiled. “Do you think I would be so careless to carry a gun openly? My my. You forget I am better at surprises. She on your mind? Or he?” 

The glare on his face is answer enough. Both Elijah and Jesse have no idea what he is doing this evening. He does not speak of his business unless absolutely necessary not even to his Raven. They are both this way. When one needs the other they rise to the call. However there is nothing to persuade him to involve Elijah in this. Holland Frost is his problem. At least she was in the past but it seems the past has a way of emerging into the future. 

Her knowledge of Jesse is one he must broach with him. “What do you want?” 

“Cutting to the chase,” the woman tutted, removing a compact mirror. Flipping it over to show him he no reason for his threatrics, Holland popped it up. Her eyes remained on him. “My surprises are much better.” 

Corvus’ head turned at footsteps on his left. Several men appeared as they did on his right. Curious set of circumstances it would appear. “You chose a bad night, Frost.” 

“Did I?” She twisted a casing of lipstick open in a casual appliance. “Never bring a knife to a gun fight.” 

He took a stance, shifting his left foot behind him, leather fingers curled tightly over the sword handle. “Oh but my odds are very good,” he mocked, twirling the weapon when they came at him. 

Kicking one of the men in the chest propelled him with a hard splat to the brick he danced over. The blade of his sword jabbed through flesh, sinking into the frontal apex of another’s throat. Sneering over perfect white teeth offered a grotesque irony. Vicious in the severing of their arteries, he held the blade steady as they dropped to their knees. Ripping a handgun out from inside a holster hidden underneath their jacket, Corvus aimed behind him, firing into the head of the third man.

Blood splattered with the violent crack. Sending matter blowing out the back of his head, Corvus paid no mind to the loud thud of body dropping behind his polished heels. Instead he drew a foot up to press into the chest of the man gargling on his knees. Pushing him slowly back off his blade, Corvus straightened, twisting around to meet the final one. The man took one look at the others lying in a mess of blood before taking off. 

He sniffed at the cowardice. “Lovely people you have working for you.” Corvus’ lips curved briefly. Satisfied with what he has done, he moved closer to the woman, blade twisting in his hand but pointing down. 

Holland stood still. She did not even attempt to flee. Her thumb pressed at the side of her compact. Expelling powder from a tiny opening blew directly into his face. Forcing him to stall immediately, covering his burning eyes with his hand, the sword dropped.

“Argh!” Corvus stumbled backwards. The sting blinded him.

She used the tip of her white heel to kick the sheathed weapon away. “Grab him.” Her command is met with an influx. Grabbing him by the arms, dragging him in his struggle, Corvus’ will to fight is beastly. A pure animal who must be taken down. Oh but she enjoys his moves. Such a sight to watch him murder men with guns with a blade. Holland always appreciated his prowess. A shame she cannot have a taste. 

Down on his knees they force him and that is just fine for her. He cannot see through the pain. But she grips onto his dark locks to pull his head back. 

Corvus growls. “Bitch!” 

“I love it when you talk dirty, Corvus.” She teased before the pierce of needle in her hand. 

He winced, grinding teeth at the obvious burn. Immediately he felt the sear begin to spread, arms becoming lax in her guard’s grip. Corvus huffed. Swallowing hard, his head bobbed, eyes squeezed shut to prevent further damage to them. 

“No worries now. I will clean your eyes up. Make you presentable enough. After all with this little concoction,” she trailed, placing the needle back in her bag. Her hand cupped along his jaw, fingers smoothing along his raven goatee. “...you will not remember a thing....except waking up warm and strapping in your bed. Save me a kiss next time, Dear DeVille.” 

Blurred, slurring, drooling. 

Corvus groaned. 

Dizzy with a strange taste in his mouth, his face pressed to the pillow that morning. Body splayed face down among his scarlet sheets, satin sticking to his sweaty skin. His head slowly lifted up. Only the pain in his neck was a sign of something off but he could not place it... he could not think... straight.... 

mentions: @creatorofclay @rxseguided

other muse: @syntheticfrost

#[My Body Is A Cage // Drabbles] #creatorofclay #rxseguided #[god is a man who walks the earth in flesh and name // creatorofclay] #[come on angel come on darling let's exchange the experience // rxseguided] #{Corvus x Jesse; There Is Thunder In Our Hearts} #{Corvus x Elijah; Murder Husbands Of A Poetic Caliber} #[V. Give Me All Of That Ultraviolence] #[He's Got His Gun He's Got His Suit On >> Human AU] #[Killer!Corvus AU] #{V. Oh My Mind Is A Labyrinth In Chaos} #[V. I'm Going Slightly Mad >> Mad Alt Human] #tw: drugs #tw: drugging #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: sword #tw: gore #tw: language

[unlockthelore]

A Not-So Simple Request

Chapter 1 of 4 for Good Influence on Ao3.

Part 8 of the Guns and Roses series. For more updates, follow the guns and roses tag on this blog.

For this specific fic, follow good influence on this blog.

All things considered Kurama was grateful Shiori would make a full recovery.

It was no secret that his mother’s life was important to him.

Enough to squander the freedom he’d been safeguarding for the last fifteen years. Even at the cost of his partner, his autonomy, and his own life. Shiori’s soul was worth all of it and more.

This arrangement with the Reikai meant he would have to assist Koenma’s pet project but if he could keep his place at her side then so be it.

There were worst fates if Kurama was honest with himself. Being tethered to Urameshi Yuusuke wasn’t one of them. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure how long the arrangement would last. Without knowing all of his intentions and wrong-doings, Yuusuke was willing to throw himself on a proverbial blade to save the life of a woman he barely knew.

It was unthinkable, foolhardy, risky, and yet Kurama found himself doing the same when caught between allowing Yuusuke to die by Hiei’s hand and losing Hiei entirely.

At the time, he told himself it was a tactical decision. If Hiei killed Yuusuke then there was no hope of escaping the Reikai's grasp. They would execute him and Kurama both. The fire demon would die before achieving his goal, and his death was one thing Kurama couldn't allow.

Part of Kurama ached for the fire demon’s familiarity and blunt if not clearheaded wisdom. Their mental link had been severed once the Shadow Sword’s effects took a toll on Hiei’s psyche.

A futile attempt from the fire demon to stave off infecting Kurama's youki. Watching Hiei's calm demeanor crumble and the uncharacteristic stereotypical villainy take its place was painful enough.

From the brief moments of clarity, Kurama could hear his inner struggle. The desire not to inflict harm on him, Shiori, or anyone else. Even Yuusuke was spared from Hiei’s ire. Yet once the detective stood in his path and the Shadow Sword identified him as an enemy, it spurred Hiei to jealousy to complete its rampage.

Kurama almost wanted to laugh. Venomous words exchanged between them. Hiei's insistence that he had chosen the detective over him. Jealousy had never been the fire demon's modus operandi but the sword's effects were mysterious. Deep down, did Hiei truly believe he would replace him so easily?

True, Yuusuke aided him in his time of need but it paled in comparison to his worry for Hiei's safety. Cruel as it was, the detective's actions left Kurama. questioning his sanity amidst feelings of gratitude.

Any hope of talking things out peacefully were dashed when the pair had come to blows. Hiei's hostage making the scene even messier.

Kurama had to commend him for his surveillance. Taking Yukimura Keiko would tie Yuusuke's hands, push him to his emotions, quicker to make mistakes.

But Hiei was susceptible to emotion as well.

Whether it was from the shock of nearly killing him or missing his mark, pain and uncertainty flickered in Hiei’s eyes with a hint of fear as his hands slowly relinquished the blade’s hilt. The beginning of Kurama's name forming on his lips tugging at Kurama's heartstrings as pain colored his vision, his hand instinctively pressing to his wound rather than reaching for Hiei as he wanted.

Yuusuke’s split second decision saved many lives that night but it wasn’t easy leaving Hiei to lie there motionless, dull crimson eyes losing their flame as he drifted into unconsciousness.

As he succumbed to his own exhaustion, Kurama almost wished the void Hiei had fallen into was the same as his own. Perhaps some shred of their youki was still tethered and could drag their consciousness to the same place.

Perhaps then, they could have talked over what path they were treading upon and apologize for their misgivings.

But fate wouldn’t be so kind to allow Kurama to go to the same place as Hiei and even now after their sentencing, he only felt flickers of the fire demon’s youki within the confines of Sarayashiki.

The Reikai investigator, Sayaka, kindly telling him in her clipped tone that Hiei’s sentencing was the same as his own.

As requested by the fire demon himself.

Together, they would assist Urameshi Yuusuke for the remainder of his tenure as a Spirit Detective.

It was so ironic.

Though the Reikai thought them to be a package deal, they were anything but of the same mind.

In the weeks following Shiori’s miraculous recovery and his sentencing, Kurama had never felt so alone.

幽☆遊☆白書

The tea kettle’s whistle roused Kurama from his thoughts. Closing the book on his lap as he glimpsed his mother’s shifting figure beneath the blankets tucked around her. It wasn’t necessary, as she often reminded him, but he felt better knowing that she was taken care of during her recovery period. It was difficult for her to get around the house at times. Easily winded, he’d often find her taking a few steps then having to lean against something to catch her breath. Her energy was returning like the slow trickle of a blocked river stream but he refused to let up until she was at least able to walk around her own home without an issue.

“Mother, are you awake?” He asked gently, setting his book on the arm of his chair, a slight smile tugging at his lips as dark brown eyes clouded with sleep peered from beneath the blanket. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Shiori tucked the blankets beneath her chin, rolling her eyes up toward the ceiling in thought before nodding. Her cheek pressed to the pillow as she tried to find a temporary bout of sleep, her dark hair fanned out beneath her head and body tucked beneath the blankets appearing so much smaller. Kurama smiled faintly, grateful that the color was returning to her cheeks but her tiredness worried him at times. Almost as if her illness was bound to return when he least expected.

Rising from his chair, he reached out to gently pat her knee, earning a slight smile as he left the room to gather cups and saucers from the kitchen. Easing the steaming kettle from the stovetop and beginning to pour their tea with a soft hum. It was one of his favorite blends: none too sweet, none too bitter. The perfect mixture if he had any opinion on it and added with marigold extracts for his mother’s health and enjoyment. As he returned to the living room, his eyes widened, seeing her sitting upright with her hair loose over her shoulders. Her eyes closed as she rocked forward then leant back with a deep rattling sigh.

“Mother…?”

Her eyes opened fractionally, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she pushed her blankets to one side, freeing room for him on the couch. Kurama’s brows furrowed and he scoured his thoughts for any number of ways to coax her into lying down. The slight arch of her brow and gentle pat to the cushion beside her dissuaded him from speaking and he sighed, setting the tray down on the low table and handing hers to her before taking his own. She smiled down at the honey-brown liquid and took a deep breath, likely inhaling the familiar scent for comfort before taking sip.

Waiting until she lowered her cup with a satisfied sigh, a victorious curl of pride rested within Kurama’s chest as he took sip from his own. The television’s noise was dull in the background, lost amidst the wind rolling across the rooftop and the buzzing insects heard from the cracked sliding glass door left ajar for his mother’s comfort. Shiori insisted on going out to the garden when she could muster the strength and while Kurama knew that his plants would watch over her, he felt better being there with her.

A twinge of guilt wrested in his stomach. He hadn’t been so adamant to be near his mother so often before his brush with death. True, they had been close but his desire to be near her wasn’t nearly this strong. Before his mind could linger on traitorous thoughts, strained coughs muffled behind Shiori’s fist drew his attention to her and he wordlessly reached out to soothe her, rubbing circles on her back.

“I’m fine, Shuuichi,” she reassured with a pat to his arm, easing his hand aside. “I was going to ask you something but I forgot to do one thing at a time…”

Kurama’s hand lingered at her back for a moment until she righted herself and he slipped it away, bringing his cup to his lips. “You wanted to ask me something?”

“Mm,” Shiori answered with a curt nod. “Kazuya mentioned that you brought a friend with you when you visited me.”

“Yes, mother, you know that Hiei came to visit you a few times since you were hospitalized.”

Before their proposed plan.

Before Hiei had fallen to the Shadow Sword’s influence.

Before Kurama lost him.

Dull aching twisted in his chest as the knife made from Hiei’s words, his expressions, and his departure sunk deeper. There was little Kurama could do to save both Hiei and his mother. And in choosing to save Shiori and throw away his own life, had he forsaken everything he shared with Hiei?

“Not Hiei,” Shiori said with a soft sigh, a hint of longing to her words with a sorrowful edge to her otherwise calm tone.

Kurama’s heart ached for her. She cared for Hiei a great deal often looking to the doorway as if the fire demon would appear any second. When Kurama came to bring her home, she asked where Hiei had been and none of his answers could appease her. Perhaps it was cruel to allow the two people who were closest to him to meet. To be without one of them was to doom the other.

“Kazuya mentioned that it was a boy, one that seemed very rough around the edges but sincere…”

Well, the description wasn’t far off. Though Kurama was dreading what she was asking it would make his sentencing easier if Shiori knew of Yuusuke and believed them to befriends. It was beneficial that his mother’s boyfriend already had the assumption that he was on good terms with Yuusuke.

“What did Hatanaka-san tell you?” Kurama asked, taking measured sips of his tea as he listened to his mother’s strained sighs, resisting the urge to reach out to her.

“Let’s see…” Shiori muttered, setting down her tea cup before running her fingers over her hair with a side-long glance. “He uses a lot of hair gel… a green uniform… and kind eyes. Kazuya said he saw him looking from the doorway, almost seemed like a puppy, the poor dear.”

A puppy. Well, if Kurama was to think about it and the way that Yuusuke spoke to him and jumped to action when he was trying to help — that wasn’t far off.

“A fair description,” Kurama admitted, tipping his head to one side as he thought it over. “Yuusuke is… quite different.”

He still wasn’t sure what to make of him. Yuusuke’s habit of impulsively jumping into danger, lack of analyzing situations and simply relying on his strength, willingness to believe even his enemies — things that would lead to his downfall no doubt. His kindness was as much of a weapon as it was a defense. Kurama nearly scoffed as he took another sip of his tea to hide the rueful smile. No wonder the Reikai asked him to guide the wayward detective. Where Yuusuke wielded kindness and brutality, Kurama had cruelty and efficiency.

Dual sides of a similar coin no matter how much he changed.

From his peripheral, Shiori’s stare was intent and she seemed to be waiting for something.

“You want to know more about him?” Kurama asked, eyebrow raised and head tilting when she beamed up at him. Of course she wanted to know more.

“You never bring friends over aside from Hiei and it’s not everyday that you brought someone to see me.”

While the inquiry was innocent enough, he felt multiple stabbing points. His mother was only worried of his social life and often urged him to continue living even if anything happened to her. It made perfect sense. His vessel was young, he was still growing, but there was a small seed of doubt planted within him.

How could he continue living without her?

Brushing the thought aside, Kurama took another sip of his tea before setting it down on the saucer and letting it rest on the table. “Yuusuke can be quite impulsive,” he said, drawing his hand back to his lap before looking to his mother and the slight quiver in her shoulders. He eased the blanket from behind her, settling it over her shoulders with a knowing look to which she huffed and tightened it with a light tug to the fringed ends.

Kurama smiled, pleased that she was taking the initiative and had some energy to even argue with him non-verbally. “… But he has a kind heart.”

“He sounds like a good friend,” Shiori said, reaching for her tea cup and inhaling the steam before taking a sip. “How did you both meet? Was it while I was in the hospital?”

Kurama relaxed a bit when she had a hold on her cup, putting some thought to her words. He would hardly call Yuusuke a friend at the moment but he could certainly see them growing closer. The detective had an infectious personality. Just being around him for those few seconds made Kurama want to rethink his plans but they were already set in motion. And those eyes of Yuusuke’s were compelling.

Perhaps if they met sooner, he would have rethought his plan entirely, and taken more into account. But there was little to do to that end.

What was done couldn’t be undone.

“We met through some… mutual friends,” Kurama finally said, smiling faintly. It wasn’t a lie, not entirely.

Shiori’s yes crinkled at the corners as she looked down at her tea. “Hiei?” She asked softly, a wistful hopefulness to her voice as the corner of her lips dipped into a frown. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen him… did he go see his family I was…”

Kurama curled his fingers into the fabric of his jeans, pulling them uncomfortably against his skin, the denim scratching against his thigh. For her sake, he smiled though sharp pangs ricocheted in his chest.

“Yes, he has been a little busy as of late.”

There was no need to worry her. He didn’t know where Hiei was. But he was somewhere in the city and that was a comfort in the barest since of the word.

“I hope I get to see him soon,” Shiori mused aloud, and though the words weren’t directed toward Kurama with any fault, guilt threatened to drag him under. “I worry about him you know… his family doesn’t sound as if they’re very good to him.”

With downcast eyes, she stared down at the contents of her cup, her sigh deep and wistful as she brought it to her lips. Her eyes closing and the deep thrum of her energy returned like the beating of a heart. As she lowered her tea cup with a light clink, the sadness in her eyes was replaced by a hopefulness lighting dark brown irises as she looked to him.

“So, tell me a little more about Yuusuke.”

Mystified by the hope in her eyes, Kurama glanced aside and wracked his brain for what to tell. The details were closely interlaced with secrets he’d been keeping from his mother for years now. And in no way was he ready to tell her about what he truly was nor did he believe it was in her best interest to know what really brought his and Yuusuke’s paths to cross.

“He has an interesting sense of humor,” Kurama muttered, thinking back to the detective’s willingness to use nicknames and joke about his own intelligence despite being in the line of sight of three very dangerous individuals. “It’s almost as if he doesn’t understand or perhaps he does understand but he jokes about everything even himself.”

It was refreshing.

Hiei had a tendency to be a bit cagey and his humor was dry. Often times, his wit was easily missed and for himself solely. Yuusuke laughed at himself openly and the words that he spoke were fairly easy to follow. Aside from that, his laughter was easy and infectious. Even his smiles from ear to ear almost made Kurama want to smile in kind.

“He does seem to be having a difficult time in school. Often skipping, he wanders but he’s taken to helping others in his free time.”

Was that the way to describe it? After watching the detective from afar to see what he was dealing with, Kurama noticed that he took to looking after a young boy. The boy’s mother didn’t seem against Yuusuke’s relationship with the child. Even fondly inviting him over for dinner. From Sayaka’s reports, the boy was named Masaru, and he had been the reason why Yuusuke lost his life to begin with. Though no matter what, Yuusuke held no resentment for the boy and his lack of heeding his warning.

If anything, Yuusuke was relieved to know that he was safe.

A far cry from the rotten individual that Sayaka’s earlier notes described him as. Though, the Reikai had never been good at judging character. Kurama resisted the urge to roll his eyes, noticing his mother was still eyeing him awaiting more.

What else could he tell her?

“Hatanaka-san wasn’t wrong. Yuusuke is fairly rough around the edges but he has a good heart. He’s willing to listen to others despite how they wrong him and is quite open-minded. Doesn’t allow anyone else to tell him what is right or wrong, deciding for himself. And he gives everyone fair opportunities to prove themselves. And he’s headstrong. For someone who thinks with his head, he can be a good listener when he wants to be. His views are a little silly but he has such a way of thinking that it’s hard not to…”

“It sounds like you like him very much,” interjected Shiori, no small amount of amusement showing on her face as she took a long sip of her tea, her cheeks pinker and a glimmer of mirth in her eyes.

Kurama trailed off, realizing that he was talking quite a bit. Pressing his hand against his mouth, he glanced aside with a shrug that he hoped was nonchalant. “I hardly know him…”

Shiori looked unconvinced and if he was honest, he could see why not. His mother wasn’t oblivious by any stretch of the imagination. “Still…” She set down her tea cup and clapped her hands together, the noise startling Kurama. “Why don’t you invite him over?”

Kurama’s eyes widened and he was rendered speechless for a moment. Invite him over? It was one thing to meet with the detective on the roof of a hospital, or in a crowded street but to invite him to his home?

“I’m curious about him and I would really like to meet him,” Shiori continued, resting her hands in her lap with a warm smile.

Kurama opened his mouth then closed it. Hesitant to say either way. He wasn’t truly friends with Yuusuke, and what he felt toward him was difficult to tell. Yuusuke’s service towards him left him in his debt and that muddled things quite a bit. However, Shiori was asking and disappointing his mother was the last thing he wanted.

“… I can ask him.”

Shiori perked up immensely and patted his knee with a smile that less reassuring as it was something else. “Good luck.”

Kurama arched his brow, poised to ask what she meant or try to analyze the situation further. Deciding to leave it be, he rose to his feet after tucking the blankets around her further. He had chores to do and one of them was going grocery-shopping. Perhaps if he feigned forgetfulness his mother would follow suit but with how much she beamed about this, he doubted it.

“Do you need anything extra from the store, mother?”

“Mmm…” Shiori pressed her finger to the underside of her chin and the flicker of sadness along with the quick glance toward the back door hitched Kurama’s breath. “The ice cream that Hiei likes…” She drew the blanket closer around her and glanced up at him with a sheepish smile and the faint shrug of her shoulders. “Just in case…”

Kurama smiled faintly. Charmed more than once by his mother’s thoughtfulness, he leant down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Get some rest, mother. I’ll return soon,” he promised, easing her to lie down with the blanket tucked around her. Once he was sure that she was properly taken care of, he headed to the door and slipped on his shoes.

“Be safe, Shuuichi,” she called after him and he smiled to himself.

“I will, mother.”

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #kurahi #kurameshi #kurama #yusuke urameshi #shiori minamino #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction #guns and roses #good influence

[unmeinohazama]

Daybreak - Edgar Bright

Written for Edgar Appreciation Week by @ikerev-appreciation! 2nd day theme - The Sound of Silence

Warning : Talks about blood

~~~

The world was filled with sounds.

Edgar cherished the birds chirping in the morning, as if they welcoming him back after being lost in his slumber. He took enjoyment from the way his soldiers and beloved pupil train, sometimes joining into the fray just to make sure Zero hadn't dulled in ability. He felt a certain serenity hearing the clashes and clanging of swords going against each other, his body moved naturally and instinctively with each maneuver.

Edgar took comfort in the liveliness of the headquarter. Teasing his favorite targets (his beloved King and Queen, and of course, dearest pupil of his), giving hell of a training to the new recruits, playing with his ducks and his colleague's pets, smuggling his secret stash of cheap, junky sweets and candies... And of course, his latest amusement was toying with dear Alice.

Alice, for once, was an interesting girl. Or maybe, he rarely met a person whose so trustful and caring, even to those who supposed to be her enemies. It was amusing to watch how she tried to familiarize herself here, even against Lancelot and the Cool Beauty of Red HQ, Jonah. Well, he would say she even saw him in positive light, but since he made it that way, he wasn't sure whether it was because of her character or her trust in his words.

Edgar didn't want to admit it, but somewhere, somewhere deep inside him, he wished he would never have to betray her confidence in it.

~~~

The night in Cradle was silent, most of the time. There was minimum lights from the magic stones, and the bustling center of activities would be deserted. Citizens and soldiers alike would be in their resting space, the exceptions were the patrolling guards and people who did business blanketed in the night.

One of them was himself.

Edgar, just like many nights before, was not inside his room. He got duties to do, written neatly in the letter from his uncle. Instead of sleeping and be awaken by the little birds singing, he was outside, monitoring his target of the night.

Ah, another 'traitor', another house to burn. He was here only as executor, not as a judge. As such, he never knew the details of the case, only the minimum details of the targets, enough for him to find and recognize them.

He waited, blended into the silent night. Watching patiently, moving his knife slowly into his grip for an instant attack. He surrendered his self into what his childhood training mold him into, and once the night stilled, he was in the move.

~~~

People sometimes think that silence is a blessing, especially those who lived in city center where there always sounds to hear. Either the bars which open until dawn, or the sound of drunkards, either singing without restraint or fighting with each others.

What most people didn't know, total silence was probably the cruelest form of punishment you can give to a person.

Loud sounds would pierce you, but silence, will destroy you slowly. Being alone, isolated inside a deep bubble of silence. At one point of time, you could hear your heart beat, slowly getting louder and faster, as if they would explode out of your chest. The sound of air going through your lungs, the rush of your blood going through your body... In silence, you become the sounds. It echoed, slowly getting louder as your ears adapt to the silence.

It would, at one point, drive a person crazy.

For Edgar, silence is one thing he had to become friends with. Silence for him was the controlled breath of his, and the swift move against his target. Silence was the silent scream they did once he cut through their throat, cleanly over the vocal chords and the artery. Silence was the emotions he saw in their eyes, slowly faded as he made sure they wouldn't be able to get up anymore.

In the suffocating silence, all Edgar could see and hear was the sound of blood, rushing out and painting everything red.

And Edgar stood there, drowning slowly but surely in the crimson sea.

~~~

Edgar washed his hands once he reached just outside the HQ garden.

One time. Two times. Three times.

Over, and over, and over again.

The freezing water bited against his skin, already red from him rubbing them, hard. He didn't stop even after the numbness set in. Only when the time showed it was nearly sunrise, he started to walk back towards the building.

He never thought he would meet her. Here. In this time.

She was supposed to be sleeping, not here, worrying and searching, waiting for him. She was supposed to only be a target, a mission he was given from his King. She wasn't supposed to be here, finding out and reaching for his wet hands.

He didn't deserve the warmth he felt through his gloved hands, caged between her bare ones.

~~~

She brought his tainted hand to her cheek. Without saying anything, without asking anything, just slowly, silently sharing her endless warmth with him with a smile etched on her lips.

When his hand touched her, with his mask lowered in a moment of shock, everything faded back into the silence.

And all he could hear, was her steady heart beat against his frantic one.

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #Edgarxappreciationweek2019 #Ikerev fic