#Am I venturing into monster-fucking territory??

[pseudowho]

I swear to god, I blinked, and now there are Mahoraga fuckers???

???

???!?!?

[captain-mj]

Okay okay okay, now that you have ventured into the territory of Ghost x König I finally have to find the courage to send you a request. I need more of this ship.

I don't have many specifics, enemies to lovers is always great, but Monster (any type, werewolf/bear, your avian soldiers, other unique folklore related creatures etc.) König and Handler Ghost? A combination/variation of the two? Ooooh, in general I am in love with your fantasy AUs. So whatever strikes your inspiration, if you have a completely different idea that comes up in regards to this ship I will probably eat it up, so feel free to venture away from the ideas provided.

If you do this I will kiss- oh wait I heard threats are the social norm in this ask box so uhm... yes... if you do this I will refrain from stealing your teeth. Yes, yes.

Werebear Koenig werebear Koenig werebear Koenig. I got you. Enemies to lovers? No problem! Also Ghost is a werewolf :)

I rewrote this six times before i liked it so pls... let me keep my teeth... I know it's short but I'll make a part 2 or something 😭

Ghost considered himself a selfish person generally. He also genuinely did not believe he was a good person. But with König, he tried to be better. König was polite and skilled, he saw no reason to be mean to him. They were only paired up because Ghost could overpower König, a feat not many people on base could boast. More accurately, no one but Ghost could boast. König was paired to him because Ghost didn't need a handler in the typical sense. It meant König didn't have to worry about it. He was new from KorTac, still adjusting to this. They both hated each other.

Ghost wasn't even sure he knew why. Neither had "punished" the other. They shared section of the base, a room, bathroom and hallway due to Ghost being a lieutenant and requesting the privacy, but they had quickly found rules that meant they never, ever saw each other unmasked unless it was on purpose. It meant they avoided each other pretty much constantly as a bonus.

Occasionally, when they did happen to be in the same area at the same time, it was a fragile truce. Their ranks were ignored and so was their work. Instead, they just continued doing what they were doing in as non awkward of a silence as they could manage.

But König slipped up. During a mission, he had shifted without being told and the wrong people got hurt. Luckily, the friendly fire was mostly just hurt egos and bruises, no casualties. He didn't think König would survive if he had genuinely hurt anyone.

Said shifter was angrily crossing his arms, looking at him with frustration. "They weren't moving fast enough. They needed to get to exfil and I didn't think they could make it at the pace we were going. I was trying to prevent anyone from getting hurt."

"I understand that. But you have to ask for permission, König. People could've gotten hurt." Ghost understood the frustration. Nonshifters could be annoyingly slow at times. Personally, he even agreed it was the right call, but he couldn't tell him that.

"Unlike you, I don't go feral when I shift." König hissed. "I'm in control. I was fine." Low fucking blow. It took a lot for Ghost to shove the initially angry reaction down.

Ghost stared at him and sighed. "I believe you. But the point still stands. You should've asked."

König scowled at him fiercely and Ghost just shook his head. "I know you're used to being a mercenary with no ru-"

"Fuck you, Riley." König suddenly got closer, towering over him. Ghost's heart did something funny that he blamed on fear. Nothing else. His breath moved the cloth over his face.

"König. Stand down."

"And what are you doing to do?" He growled at him.

Ghost growled back and stepped closer, ignoring the height difference. He hooked his ankle around König's knees and sent him to the floor, kneeling in front of him. "Don't ever. Ever."

"Ever what? Growl at you? Disrespect your authority?"

Ghost yanked König's hood up and guilt immediately flooded him. König shied away from him, all the fury going out of him. He looked away, ashamed. There were scars across his face, but they weren't too bad. It was the thick scarring around his throat, like he had been wearing a spiked collar or had almost been decapitated.

Ghost dropped his hood. The silence followed like a shroud. It ached and groaned between them.

König let out a shuddering breath. "I... I do not want you to do that again."

"I wont."

"I promise not to shift without your permission again, sir." Sir. ah.

Ghost wanted to apologize. It was funny. He did worse things to other people and never felt this problem and yet, he wanted to apologize. To König.

"Good. Don't let it." That's what he said instead.

König didn't look at him. The silence stayed. Neither slept.

[maiuoart]

Greetings, Folks!

Nice to see and meet'cha; Ya'll can call me Mai, Rose, Nik- Anything you want! Just don't call me Lazy-... That's for Mutt ;) ♥

This account is Suggestive! +18 content!

So if you're a minor, please do not interact. It's for everyone's safety- I'm a natural curser! Plus, I enjoy perverted humor!

Swapfell Red is a natural dark place, as well; Be advised there are many dark themes!

Under this theme; Any Fontcest/Pap-Sancest peeps, please go along your way. I will not hesitate to block people who put my brotherly content as something that should be wholesome and comforting with family aspects to something romantic and disgusting between the two brothers because ya'll are too lazy to pair them up with other suitable Monsters. I will not deal with the disturbance of it.

I am a Swapfell Red creator; I ask that you label it as such! Not Fellswap, for that is completely different to what I draw and the confusion over the years is hard enough already.

I enjoy the Swap versions of all sorts;

Underswaps- Blue & Honey/Stretch

Swapfell Purple- Nutty/Grape & Slick/Cash

Fellswap Gold- Wine & Coffee

One of these days, I'd like to venture into Fellswap territory, but besides Swapfell Red, Swapfell Purple can take a good portion of my brain some days. Still trying hard to figure them out, and like SFR; Failing sometimes. Lol.

FAQ; 

Commissions Opened?; Normally I open on my Furaffinity account; Sometimes and rarely, will I alert people here. Can I Dub your Comic?; Please ask me FIRST and LINK correctly!!  Can I send you an Ask? Fuck yeah you can!!! I’d be delighted to answer any of peeps questions!

Places you can find me;

All the Links! Furaffinity AO3; Will have 18+ content occasionally! Twitter; Will have 18+ content occasionally!  Also have a Ko-fi!

Other Blog Accounts;

MaiuoartReblog; Reblog account! MaiuoWrites; Blog for writing and stories! DarkeningDaysStory Dark Swapfell Red Story. FuzzyFeelingsStory Bitty+Multiverse Story UnderWonderAU; Might be dead right now, but it might come back to life later!!

Masterlists;

Need to rework the lists...

Thanks and stay awesome, Friendos! ♥

[cloudninetonine]

Introductions

Hey, so, I was feeling kinda bad today because of home troubles and decided to write out the piece with my first two Linksonas, Truce and Mory, meeting! Just to make myself feel a little better.

If you guys want I'll even write the introduction with Cryptid but only if it's cool!

Please forgive me if it's not so good I wrote it on little sleep plus it's late ~~~~~~~~~~

“Chief?”

“Yes?”

“There’s- um, there may be a problem with one of the traps.”

“Oh, and what might that be?”

“Ah, I see now.”

The man warriors tried to hide their humour, muffled laughs or hidden smirks as their Chief stood before them, hands over hips and staring up into the treetops to where the ‘problem’ with their traps hung.

A young man, he seemed, wriggling and flailing about while cursing anything he eyes fell upon- the trees, the leaves, the sun, the sky and also the small group that laid below, growing even more irritated as his people’s laughter grew in volume at his frustration.

They weren’t able to hold their hysterics, not that he blamed them- falling into such a trap was no smart feat, falling into a monster trap was something common, monsters were smarter, faster, harder to trick so to be caught in such a contraption would have been an understandable mistake-

But a boar trap? Now that wasn’t something you could live down easily.

“You faring well up there, lad?” Link couldn’t help it, he just couldn’t, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Let me down, let me down!”

“Awh, but do you not enjoy the blood rush-”

“FOR THE HEAVENS ABOVE LET ME DOWN FROM THIS FUCKING TREE!”

The others howled in the background, leaning against one another as the man wandered forward to the tree connected to the trap, releasing the tie and bringing the struggling boy gently, still chuckling as he struggled the whole way down until his body finally made contact with the leafy forest floor, flailing violently to rip away the loop encasing his ankle and stand, violently patting down his clothes from the dirt of the forest.

“What are you looking at?!” He hissed at the warriors who still cackled, tears staining their face. “Isn’t it rude to leave one hanging!?”

They just laughed harder.

“I apologise…” Link looked the young man up and down carefully, analysing the culture of his clothes and his person, a familiar word popping to his head. “...but we weren’t expecting a Sheikah to be passing in our territory.”

The man’s face snapped to face him and he caught the colour blue in his eyes. “Or…not?”

The boy huffed “I am Sheikah- I just got my father’s eyes.”

“Ah, okay, my apologies.” Link brushed away the confusion crossing the other’s face, waving away the warriors who had finally been reduced to giggles, nodding towards their Chief in respect. “Away with you all, continue with your patrols.”

They disappeared quickly, the man still watching them wearily when Link clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it for his attention once again. “Now, most Sheikah send a note before appearing in my humble little village- did fierce old Impa send you?”

At those words the man made a face, confusion plastered over his features before it melted away. “I- no- I am merely travelling, that is all.”

Link blinked. “....You guys actually leave Kakiriko?”

The Sheikah made a face. “What do you take us for shut-ins?”

“After the Calamity a few hundred years ago- yes?”

“Calamity? A few hundred years ago?”

The suspicion wasn’t hard to keep away, his words were already enough for the old hero. The Sheikah were a quiet people, they kept to their village, the didn’t venture out- especially after the war. Sure, there were the informants, but those were people of the Kingdom, those under the Queen and under Impa- the rest of the village stayed to their humble abode. Some from fear of the world, others not wanting to partake in the goings on of Hyrule. 

Understandable, before the war Link had scarcely left his own village- no one did but the Sheikah were, well, shut-ins.

Holding some of the Kingdoms biggest secrets probably attributed to that, so to see a lone Sheikah, not dressed in informant attire was already setting off the alarm bells.

“Are you alright, lad?” He was giving him an out, an opportunity. “Did you hit your head while after catching that trap?”

“I….yes.”

Link wasn’t very fond of liars.

“Well, alright then.”

Liars only brought pain.

“Come, I will check your wounds.”

And Pain only lead to death.

He had seen that one too many times.

“Thank you…?”

“Link.”

He didn’t miss the expression on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was a bit nosey within the village, but to no surprise of course, his home had been quiet for many years since his defeat of Ganon- quiet seemed to accompany peace, they came in a pair, one he rather much enjoyed but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the occasional change.

The elders eyed the man curiously, as did the children, the adults- everyone seemed to pause their daily activities to take a glance at the stranger within their midst. Not cautiously, more with intrigue, watching him follow and converse with their Chief with more obvious lies until they had finally ducked into his home, Link’s sister sharpening one of her blades by the fire, too focused to notice them both.

“Aisling,” Link called, the boy look around curiously at the weapons lining the walls. “Give us a moment.”

“Aye, hold your horses-” A glance towards them both had her pausing, looking between her brother and the stranger in her home. “Ah, Sheikah- alright.”

Then without another second, she mounted her weapon and quietly left for outside, shutting the door behind her.

“Your wife?”

“Eh, Goddess know- my sister- I would rather much be set alight by a lizalfos than be married to the likes of her.”

From outside she cursed him out, a small laugh leaving his lips as him and the other gentleman made their way to the kitchen to sit, the light of the windows much better compared to the fire’s glow within the sitting room as Link ordered the younger man to sit, moving about his hair to chekc for any injuries.

Which he hadn’t lied about, there sat a small gash at the base of his neck.

That didn’t stop his distrust.

The two chatted as Link worked, making sure to clean any mess from the area with a damp flannel he had fetched. It was an interesting enough conversation, mostly the younger man asked questions- about the kingdom, about the village, about the monarchy and finally about him, one he had patched up the wound.

“You’re the Hero of the Truce.” There was no hesitation in his voice, not an ounce of uncertainty, it was a statement, a fact. “You stopped the War of all Wars.”

“Aye.” Link’s hands were submerged in a water pail, washing away the slight trace of blood that stained his hands. “That was a long time ago, however, we’re in an era of peace now.”

“...are you sure about that?”

The question was heavy, heavy with something that Link could only guess was a threat, his hands pulling from the water to dry upon the cloth beside him- the kitchen knife just an inch away.

“Well, I was-” His hands were lightning fast as he gripped the blade, snapping around to throw it in the direction of the young man. “But you’re not making that belief easy lad.”

It was impressive to see him dodge, his expression quick to snap in a guarded one as he leapt away from the table and rolled away, standing within the doorway of the sitting room as the blade finally made contact with the wall, the sound echoing.

“Ah, well look at that, impressive!” Link laughed, “Nice dodge, not many are that quick.”

“Well, when you’ve been training for as long as I have-” He moved his hand to the sword hanging from his hip, spinning the blade then readying himself into position with a smug smirk. “You learn a few things.”

“Great! You’ll definitely be needing them!”

The crowd that had formed outside the house from the noise was large, many already up in arms with their weapons ready, Aisling take charge as she stood on the other side of the door. She knew ready than to barge in, waiting patiently as the sounds of damage, clashing of metal and sounds of pain reached her twitching ears, her hands tightening around the handle of the sword another villager had given her. Link had reminded her many time that he was a warrior, a good one at that, there needn’t be worry during moments like these- if he were truly in danger he would yell for her, that was his promise and one she knew he would keep-

But that didn’t stop the worry.

“Incredible, you really know how to stand your ground!” The house was trashed, pots smashed, furniture cracked, the walls filled with hole after hole from either Link tearing weapons from their mantles or from them dodging attacks, blades breaking through the wood to reveal the interior of the walls. “Aisling’s going to kill me for this mess, but ah, not before I kill you.”

Hands moved to the heavy halbard hanging behind him, the rip from the wall loud as he tore the weapon from it’s mantle and presented it in a fighting position, still grinning.

When the other man finally huffed.

“Okay, enough of this.”

“Oh?”

The Sheikah finally sheathed his weapon, patting down the slight crumples in his clothing before looking at Link with a fierce determination in his eye, the hero raising a brow then allowing himself to relax, leaning his weight onto the halbard as he gestured for the man to continue.

“Link, Hero of the Truce, I have come to you for a reason- one that may destroy the peace that you and your companions had brought those many years ago.”

“Is that right? And why should I believe you?”

With an irritated sigh, then boy rolled his eyes and grabbed at his left glove, ripping it away when he finally revealed it-

The Triforce of Courage burned into the back of his hand.

“Huh.”

“Link, my name is also Link and I am your descending hero- and I need your help.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Nagas already live in my head rent free, but yandere nagas?? I am dead. Just them and their huge maze caves and big tail and superhuman strength. Even better when all they know is 'world hard and cold, darling soft and warm' hhhh

tw - imprisonment, physical abuse, threats of violence, intimidation, generalized monster-fucking.

I just think they're neat! Snakes are tend to keep to themselves, hunting on their own, living in isolation for years at a time, rarely venturing beyond their own territory, so it'd make sense for them to get... attached to the soft, shaking human who stumbled into their cave, one day, dirty and lost and too scared to fight back as they tried to figure out whether or not you're worth eating. It's nice to have something to break up the monotony of stone walls, dark jungles, prey they never have time to get to know. It's nice to have something that's not either a meal or an enemy, even if they wouldn't call you a mate, just yet.

You're warm, warmer than they are, at least. They like that about you, how easy you are to curl around, how good it feels to hold you to their chest and let their hands slip under the furs and stolen clothes you insist on wearing, despite how often they remind you that such flimsy layers of protection aren't going to do anything to ward them off. But, it makes you happy, keeps you from screaming and kicking the way you used to, when they first took you in, so they give you all the strange things they find in the campgrounds of much more prepared adventures, gift you all the shiny trinkets and fragile oddities other humans leave behind, bring you meat and fruit and the talons of other, less welcoming predators, other creatures that can and will hurt you, will hurt you, if you ever wander further than they can follow. You still push them away, sometimes, still refuse to stay in their nest during the long hours of the day unless they pin you down, but you don't throw fits, anymore, you don't try to run off whenever they let you out of their sight. You let them hold you, as closely as they want to, as tightly as they want to, and you've learned better than to struggle. They've never been very patient with small, weak animals desperate enough to try and fight back.

Not that you aren't desperate, from time to time. They think it's cute, your little attempts to squirm and writhe, those pitchy noises you make whenever they wrap their tail around you and let the points of their fangs brush against your neck, and they don't mind the feeling of your nails scraping against their scales, trying to pry them off you, trying to get away from your dedicated protector. It just another sign that you can't be trusted, on your own, that you'd never be able to make it without their help, without their protection. You're a simple little thing, too afraid to think rationally, and they have to watch over you, make sure you don't get yourself into any trouble. Even if you yell, every now and then, even if you call them a 'monster' and swear that you'd be better off with any wild, mindless beast, it's their job to take care of you. It's what a proper caretaker would do. It's what a proper guardian would do.

It's what a proper mate would do, especially after you've done so much to prove you can't be trusted on your own.

[messifangirl]

I... I kinda want to know more about the Cressi waiter and Royalty AUs? They sound like incredible stories. Is vampire/werewolf the one you have a chapter posted? Could you show something more, pretty please?

(Adding a cut!)

The Waiter AU I actually wrote way back in the day. It’s Like A Fairy Tale (5.5k) But I always wanted to write a follow up to it and I have a lot of notes and pieces the sequel. Here’s some:

Cristiano rolls his eyes. "Nothing's wrong," he says. "I just feel like..." He lowers his voice. "Like, I'm chasing him." It sounds silly to say it out loud, and Cristiano's fears are proved right by Marcelo's response.

Marcelo laughs. "Good! It's about time somebody made you work for it." He slaps Cristiano on the arm, laughing again and turning back to his bag. "I like him even more now. Make sure he stops by after the game so I can say hi." He fist bumps Sergio and heads towards the exit.

Sergio watches him leave before focusing on Cristiano. "So it's a little unusual for you. And you're chasing him. But... He's worth it, right Cris?" He widens his eyes imploringly and bites his lip. "I mean, you love him." He flicks his eyes around the room to see if anyone overheard him before turning his attention back to Cristiano. "Right? You've always loved him. He was your first kiss!"

Cristiano's smile dims a little. "Sergio," he says, exhaling and tilting his head back. "It's not that easy, okay?"

And this really isn't a conversation he wants to be having here.

Or at all.

A few seats down, Fabio catches his eye and looks at him questioningly--ready to save him from Sergio if necessary. Cristiano gives a quick shake, indicating everything is fine.

"What do you mean?" Sergio asks, crestfallen. He sits down on the bench in front of Cristiano as if his knees can't hold him up anymore. A hand darts to his waist to fidget with his towel. "You don't love him anymore?" His voice wobbles.

"Sergio," Cristiano starts, rubbing a hand across his face. He takes a deep breath. "I *did* love him. Once. As a child... But it's been fifteen years. And sure, I like him. But I like the idea of him—I liked who he was, and of course I like the look of him now. That's not the point, of course... But things have changed for the both of us... He doesn't know me, and I don't know him. Not really.”

Sergio's still looking up at him with sad eyes. "But..."

Cristiano huffs. "All I'm saying is, we're taking things slow, okay? And it's a little hard, what with our schedule, and the fact that he works two jobs." He shuts his eyes and pictures Leo's face, imagines stroking his cheek and seeing that gorgeous smile. "But yes," he says quietly, opening his eyes again. "I think he's worth it."

The Royalty AU is actually a fairly new idea. Royalty AU has always been one of my fav AUs to read in other fandoms but because I’ve reread kkslover9′s A Tale of Two Princes a thousand times and it is sooooo good, I never really thought to try my own. Until now. It’s still very much in the works and being outlined, and I just completely decided to rewrite the beginning so I don’t want to give you anything that won’t make it into the final, but here’s a little haha.

"It's your duty," Sergio says quietly. "We're all required to do our part. Mine, since I was a child, has been to follow your every step and keep you safe from all harm." He claps a hand on Cristiano's shoulder. "And yours is to lead your people when the time comes. You've already proved your worth in battle, and your men will follow you anywhere. But you've been raised since birth with the expectation to one day take the throne when His Majesty passes. And despite your feelings about what's happening today, I know that you're aware of your responsibilities."

Cristiano's jaw tightens but he forces himself to relax. "Of course you're right," he says, shifting to lean against the wall as well. "I'm just..." He trails off and swallows his frustration down until he can find the words. "I would have preferred Prince Koke over some savage from Barcelona," he adds with a huff. "At least I've met Koke and he's not terrible to look at."

"Koke?" Sergio scoffs. "We both know that you could never be interested in a man who never picked up the sword." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Now, on the other hand, they say Prince Lionel--like you--has commanded Barcelona's armies for years. He's the second son and barely ever attended court. And when he did return home, it was never without a trophy from battle. Apparently, his skill with the sword is unmatched. They call him La Pulga." He quirks his lips. "Think he'd be up for a bout? I'd love to see if what they say is true. And if so, test myself against the best."

Cristiano ignores him. "La Pulga? He's going to be hideous," he murmurs. "I just know it. Probably some uncivilized creature who's disgustingly bloodthirsty and unfit to be seen in our company." He stares down toward the courtyard again, and shudders. "I don't even want to think about it."

The Vampire/Werewolf one is the one I posted a chapter of, yes. It was inspired by some art @detodores did for Cressi week a while back. Here’s some not yet posted :)

The vampire--Leo--looks away, seeming embarrassed. "Yes, but... I'm sorry, it's just feeding is usually just such a private process." He opens his mouth and then closes it like he's rethinking his words. "I fed from two of the wolves from the other pack. They were the ones that volunteered, and I will not betray their names," he says warningly.

"So it did not have to be from all of them?" Cristiano asks, his worries about how much the vampire needed to drink coming to the surface. On the other hand, he's grateful that the rest of his pack can be kept safe and be spared the entire process.

"I realize you are just curious," Leo says with a blink, "however you should be aware that you have just implied I am very promiscuous." He doesn't quite look at Cristiano. "As I said, it is a private process. It can be very... sensual."

Cristiano's cheeks flush as he realizes his misstep. "You're saying it's like fucking," he says, envisioning throttling Sergio for sending him in to do this. Wolves are not shy of their bodies, with the constant shifting leading to the necessity of nudity, but anything leading to actual sexual acts is much rarer and much more sacred.

Leo has no reaction to the crude word. "It can be. Or, it can be simply... meaningful." He sighs. "Blood given is very different from blood taken, despite what you have read or what they show in movies and shows these days. It's about a connection with someone, as well as being about nourishment."

"So it doesn't hurt?" Cristiano asks then, not really wanting to explore this any more than he has to. He's grateful to turn away from the mention of sex and into something else. Of course, he's also somewhat incredulous that such a thing is painless.

"I can make it hurt," Leo says, eyes still not looking at Cristiano. "But I do not. There's no point." He tilts his head as if in thought. "I can not speak for others of my kind. If you are bitten by another vampire, it may not be as I have described."

"So you're not a monster," Cristiano says skeptically, thinking back to the tales of Dracula and trying to replace them with something like a sparkling Edward Cullen.

"Oh, no," Leo says, interrupting his thoughts. "Make no mistake. I am most definitely a monster." He smiles again, and this time, shows two large fangs jutting down from the top of his mouth. They're as white as the rest of him, looking sharp and pointy and dangerous. "Even in this," he pauses and sounds frustrated, "weakened state. I would not call myself anything other than a monster."

"You've killed people then," Cristiano ventures, easing the pressure on his heels even as the conversation does nothing to ease his anxiety.

"Haven't you?" Leo asks, sounding tired again. "The world is not always kind to monsters, is it? And I've lived a very long time. I've had to eat. Had to survive." He closes his eyes again, black lashes stark against his pale skin. "Humans have always been so fragile... It's why I thought working with the wolves would be so beneficial. A way to take humans out of the equation entirely."

"And now your wolves have abandoned you," Cristiano says flatly. "Left you here, in our territory, to die. Because they certainly know we have you. They've had a month to figure that out. And still, they did nothing." He doesn't know why he's trying to drive this point home. Maybe because he hates those wolves and wants Leo to hate them too.

Leo does not reply. 

[bruhstories]

Will You Finish the Song?

Summary: Reader grew up with Illidan Stormrage. Everything was peachy until he betrayed everyone. Lusting for power, he turned to the dark side, while Y/N prepared for war. Pairing: Illidan Stormrage x High Elf!Reader Warnings: language, sadness and a nude reader Word Count: 1313

A/N: sooo this was supposed to be a multi-chapter fic but I didn’t wanna ruin it so there you go – one angsty piece of fiction.

Illidan felt his body give up. He pushed himself to his limits and so did his army of Illidari. Whoever was in charge of the Alliance division was a fine strategist. On the opposite side of the battlefield, Y/N felt exhaustion creep into her muscles and mind, and witnessed soldiers collapsing from fatigue. She knew the Legion would never give up but the lives of her soldiers were more important than her revenge. It's what she's been taught by Jaina. And one battle lost didn't mean they lost the entire war. She ordered the retreat and created a portal back to Dalaran while burning demons to a crisp. Y/N knew she was low on mana and made a difficult decision: she'd close the portal and stay behind. If everything went according to plan, all she had to do was stay hidden until she’d recover enough strength and mana to zap herself to the nearest Alliance city. "Eriser!" She called the dwarven warrior, "Take the men and go! We can't win!" "Not without you, lass!" Eriser replied, slashing his way through hordes of demons. "Yes without me! I can't hold it any longer, go, please!" "Men, retreat! RETREAT!" The dwarf yelled his lungs out. "Y/N, go through the fucking portal!"

"I'm sorry, Eriser..." she whispered, teleporting the warrior to Dalaran with the little mana she had left. She closed the portal, summoned her mount and ran for her dear life. As much as she wanted to stay and rip Illidan's heart out, she couldn't do that if she was dead. Calculating her next move, Y/N decided she'd hide in a cave, rest and recover, and then teleport herself to Dalaran. Even her Gryphon grew tired of flying so much, so when Y/N found a cave she retreated there. The first thing she did once she felt safe was to pull out her map and estimate where she was. Since the fight was in the North of Hellfire Peninsula and she flew straight South, Lyn guessed she was in Shadowmoon Valley, close to Terokkar Forest. "Fuck." The high elf whispered. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Demons were in swarms in Shadowmoon Valley and Illidan himself lived in the Black Temple. Y/M had to make a quick recovery and teleport herself as soon as possible. She didn't have enough mana to conjure something to eat or drink so she had to do this the hard way and just rest in enemy territory. Fortune was in her favour, though, at least for now, as the cave seemed uninhabited by any creature. Y/N ventured deeper into the cave and found a spring and a space she could bathe in.  She stripped her armour and robe and soaked her feet into the cold water, eventually sinking her body into it. The water made her shiver but she got used to it after a while, embracing the cold. Y/N carefully cleaned her wounds and since no one was around to hear her, she sang a song.  "Are you going to Darkmoon Faire:           Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.                   Remember me to one who lives there.                               She once was a true love of mine." She sighed. She was so obsessed with avenging her family that she never thought of starting her own. To be fair, she didn't think it was possible to find love or even raise a child in such a... plagued world. And to think that she used to be in love with the very man she’s now fighting.  "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt            Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme                    Without no seams nor needle work                            Then she'll be a true love of mine."

"Your singing is as beautiful as your military strategies." A voice disturbed her ballad. She froze in place, not because of the cold water, but because she knew she was going to die soon. "Illidan Stormrage. Betrayer!" Y/N hurled a ball of fire to her enemy, a mistake which cost her more time to recover, as she almost lost balance and had to lean on rock for support. "Save your mana, mage. I'm not here to fight." Illidan dismissed her and her fireball. "I wouldn't attack someone who can't defend herself." He added, taking a seat on a stumpy stone and groaning from the pain of his wounds. "You took everything from me! My parents, my brother! He was only a boy!" She cried out, the pain in her own wounds incapacitating her as well. Illidan sighed. He was oh so tired of people not understanding his sacrifices. He didn't betray his kind, he saved them. He will save them. The demon unwrapped the bandages covering what was supposed to be his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The mage was confused, enraged and slightly embarrassed. His blindness didn’t stop him from seeing her figure, he just couldn’t distinguish her features. "Do something! Say something, you fucking monster-" "I didn't kill your family!" Illidan cut through her words, his voice louder than hers. "I did not kill your family, the Legion did. And you, just like everyone else, think I betrayed you when in fact, you all betrayed me." He finally shut up, his last words mere whispers that echoed in the cave. Y/N’s lower lip trembled. She was on the verge of crying, and she hadn't shed a tear in ages. Was this demon delusional? He joined the enemy, he turned his back against his race, his people. She moved to the edge of the pool and dressed herself in her robe, the material and hugging her curves. "You..." Illidan spoke again, "Should understand what it means to sacrifice yourself for the greater good." Y/N watched him carefully, a brow raised at his affirmation. "I watched you on the battlefield. You took your chances and made a choice, knowing exactly what risks that choice entailed. For your people, not for yourself. You were willing to die for them." He continued. "And I joined the Legion so I could strike it from its very core." The elf pondered Illidan's words. And in a way, what he said made sense. But he was still a demon. And demons were nothing but cruel liars. A minute ago she was ready to slit his throat for killing his family, now she's confused and clueless. "But," he added, "you and your Alliance are never going to trust a demon. It's understandable. I'm sorry for your loss but don't blame me for what the Legion did. I am not the Legion. And I will never be the Legion." Silence echoed through the cave for what seemed like an eternity, and the only sounds that could be heard were the beatings of their hearts and the ripples of the water. Y/N shed a tear, after holding back for so many years, she shed a tear. And after it, another came. And another. And another until her cheeks were wet, the salty drops dripping down her chin and neck. "I've spent lifetimes learning how to fight. Learning how to kill. Learning how to kill you! I never wanted this life and after so many decades you expect me to give it up? What, because you're innocent?" Y/N shattered the silence with her broken voice. "No, I expect you to keep fighting and never give up until either you or the Legion are out of breath." "I- wh-." She stuttered. Her glossy eyes looked into his fiery orbs. "Will you just finish the song?" Illidan asked, his voice softer than ever, if that was even possible. “Please.” She nodded. "Tell him to find me an acre of land        Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme           Between the salt water and the sea strand                Then he'll be a true love of mine.   Are you going to Darkmoon Faire?         Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme            Remember me to one who lives there                  He once was a true love of mine." 

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter Au 6

Heads up at the top this one is our “Last Wish Special”. It’s extra long and what should be no surprise to anyone- Jaskier does not have a good time! Please take care of yourselves as we move into plot territory.

Part 1   Part 5 Inspired by @spielzeugkaiser art here And Also now on Ao3 cause that’s probably easier for everyone.

Sometimes, when Geralt got hurt, he’d use his shapes against him.

Help was the word he’d use. To help him. But if Geralt preferred to think of him using his shapes against him then so be it.

“Get off me Jaskier.”

He looked down his snout at Geralt and grumbled his reply before returning to his composing. They would at very least wait until the bleeding stopped to ride back. Since Geralt insisted the injuries were not so grievous as to require proper attention.

He might very well have been right about that. Which meant they could afford to wait for it to stop before returning for the reward.

If Geralt wanted to treat his wounds then he’d let him. But he wasn’t going to let him ride off and make everything worse because he was a stubborn ass. That was Jaskier’s job. Being a stubborn ass. Not that he made a habit of being farm animals. The risk it would sour him to the taste of their meat was far too great. He refused to be vegetarian. Grass just did not taste very good. No matter what Roach claimed.

“Jaskier get off me or I will throw you off.”

He shifted more of his near 400 pound weight onto Geralt’s torso to demonstrate exactly what he thought about that.

“I can.” He growled.

He puffed up his fur telling him exactly what would happen if he tried.

He had bigger forms yet. If that’s how he wanted to play- well. He wouldn’t bet on Geralt winning. Witcher enhancements be damned.

Geralt, seemingly having realized this, ceased his struggling and ventured a new tactic.

Insulting him.

Which got him grumbling and growling at Geralt. But didn’t get him off him. Geralt knew well enough what he was saying. He didn’t need to transform to express his displeasure.

Geralt, a versatile and clever man, switch tactics yet again.

Reciting history facts but slightly wrong- the year was 1123 and he was a duke not a prince Geralt- asking questions about agriculture – cereal crops deplete the soil of nitrogen. Legumes fix this. A fallow field is left for weeds and grazing. The three fields are rotated. Together this system allows farmers to plant more crops and increase production. – and finally just asking him to play for him.

He, personally, admitted that his bear vocals left something to be desired but he didn’t let that stop him from belting out a few heavily modified versions of his favorite tunes.

Geralt covered his ears and glared at him.

It was only after three verses of Fishmonger’s daughter that he finally popped down into his human shape to do the finale justice.

Geralt shoved him off breaking his sustained note.

“Rude.” He squawked from the dirt as Geralt stood.

“I stopped bleeding three songs ago!” He growled at him.

“I’m well aware.” He grinned. “But I do so enjoy a captive audience.”

Geralt threw the bedroll at his head. Which did hit him. But he managed to catch it on the rebound, which counted as a win in his books.

“I don’t need you mothering me bard.”

“Is that what you think this is? I’m trying to keep Nenneke from murdering me next time you need her services. The woman terrifies me Geralt.”

She did. A little. Not in the way he suspected she expected to be feared though.

It was because her eyes always held too many questions about why he’d arrived before Geralt, knowing exactly the condition of the man’s wounds, even though he lacked a horse while Geralt road in on Roach.

He’d fly ahead, unhampered by the twisting of the roads, and set them to prepare for Geralt’s arrival. Or, when the situation was far graver, have them send a cart to meet him. Transforming on the road just outside of the temples view.

His skin itched when she stared at him too long. Like she almost knew what he was and if she watched him closely enough she might figure it out.

Luckily, “I mean the woman already hates me Geralt.” She was easy to annoy into not looking closely. “No need to worsen her to me by damaging the one reason she even tolerates my presence at the temple.”

If all she wanted to see was an airheaded flop of a bard that was all he would show her. Staying within the confines of expectations worked well enough to keep people from digging.

“She does hate you.” Geralt agreed with a smirk. Pleased he’d befriended someone Jaskier had not.

“Naaaah deep down she likes me.”

Geralt bobbed his head, half conceding the point.

People were complicated like that. She hated Most of him. But she liked that he cared about Geralt. Even if she didn’t always agree with how he cared about Geralt.

With how they cared for each other.

So maybe he shouldn’t have poked the insomniatic bear that was Geralt as he dredged up the lake at Rinde. But he was a bear often enough and he didn’t mind being poked. Sometimes Geralt needed to buck up and face his problems head on!

Then his throat started closing.

Which was scary. Sure. But there were plenty of forms that didn’t need his throat to breath. He’d play catfish or pike or bream or – he was just listing fish again- something while Geralt sorted out the curse the djinn smacked him with.

Except.

Except none of them would come.

He tried to shift bigger and his skin pulled too tight like it was yanking away from the muscle and he tried to shift down and his organs compressed in his chest. And he was left folded over in pain from his throat and his lungs and from being trapped.

Trapped in one form. Perhaps forever.

“Can you shift?” Geralt asked him, looking between him and Roach. Debating.

He managed a ragged sob that Geralt translated as the ‘no’ it was.

There was the bumpy ride on Roach- poor girl they weighed far too much together- and the elf with the painkillers – which helped a little. But the world continued its painful descent into darkness.

Geralt was scruffing him by the doublet. Dragging his limp form. Somewhere. He liked being scruffed. It reminded him of the old mouser in the kitchen who’d claimed him as kin when he was barely a boy. Whenever he got in trouble, or was lonely, or scared he’d just run to the old tom and pop down into a kitten. Instantly be scruffed and pulled under the cabinet for a bath and cuddle.

Scruffing meant that soon everything would be okay. He was in pain and terrified but soon. Soon everything would be alright.

 Everything was not alright.

There was a very scary woman with an amphora on her belly and-

And she was a mage.

A powerful mage.

Something in him was singing. Singing at her notice. Her attention.

He didn’t much like that part of him.

His knees near buckled under him as she gripped his nethers and pressed a knife to his throat.

“If you want to keep all you have familiar,” She squeezed him tighter. The singing and terror crescendo-ing in his ears. What do you want me to be? It sung, heart racing in his chest. “Make a damn wish.”

He reached. Reached for. Something. Some shape that would get her away. Small or big or cute or monsterous or something.

Her magic threw him to the floor and it crackled over his skin- she wants you to be human so that is what you shall be – lighting up every nerve with delicious power – do as she says. So that the powerful one might keep you – and burning the tapestry of thread he didn’t know was woven underneath his skin.

“Make your damn wish! Do it now!”

This one is better. Powerful. Be what she wants. “I don’t- I don’t know!” Lightning ran through his veins and fire blazed through his chest and- and- Be her’s. Wish to be hers. Exalted one.

He didn’t want that.

“I wish very much to leave this place forever!”

She turned from him, the burning fading. The singing loud in his ears. Scolding, screaming, begging him to go back to her as he scrambled from the building.

And Geralt was there.

Geralt was alive.

Geralt left him to that witch.

“Jaskier. You’re okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that you give a monkey’s about it.” He fumed.

The singing was quieter now. The smoldering in his chest easing next to Geralt-

Geralt was going back inside.

The building collapsing.

“She could not have survived it.” The elf from earlier- Chireadan- said.

There was coldness in the shape of the lightning flowing through his veins. Ashes in the stitching of his soul where Geralt once resided.

“Why did Geralt go in there? It doesn’t make any sense. What, to save a mad fucking witch?”

“Because she was magnificent.”

She was. The song wept.

His knees hit the ground, the pain of the gravel collision distant, over the shapeless void that pulled him to nothing.

“What am I supposed to do now, hm?” What would be left when this form collapsed into the emptiness in his chest? “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

You should have died with him.

No.

“I’m gonna write you. The best song. So that everyone remembers who you were, what we did, everything we saw.” There was a lifetime there. In the spaces they shared. Not a human lifespan perhaps. But it wasn’t like he was human anyway. “And I will sing it. For the rest of my days.”

“He always said I had the most wonderful singing voice.”

A joke. Between him and a dead man.

If he wanted to correct him he should have stayed alive.

Chireadan knelt before him, laying a hand on his shoulder. A tiny beat of comfort in a symphony of pain.

“They’re alive.”

They were very alive.

He ran his fingers down Roach’s neck, unsure how he was supposed to feel.

Relief that Geralt was alive? Jealously that he’d gone to Yennefer? Jealously she choose him over you?

Anger?

Joy?

Hollow. He felt hollow.

Roach nudged him.

He was nearly draped over her.

He wanted that old tom cat to scruff him and pull him under the cabinet. To lick and squish and purr him back to whole.

What would he be if he shifted now?

Nothing. It called to him that nothing.

Nothing wasn’t a shape. Nothing wasn’t Jaskier. Jaskier wasn’t nothing.

Still it called to him.

Roach lipped at a saddlebag. The one he’d nested in as his wing healed.

He shoved his bloody shirt in as a makeshift nest and fluttered in.

If Geralt wanted his peace he could dump him on the side of the road.

Until then. He breathed in the way the leather bag blended Roach and Geralt into itself and fell asleep.

 He drifted back to the shores of sleep welcomed by the gentlest smoothing of his feathers.

He readjusted, further nesting into the callouses of Geralt’s hand.

“I thought.” The pain in Geralt’s hesitating voice forced his eyes open. “That the djinn took your voice and your shifting from you.”

Geralt was laying down on their bedroll watching him with those big sad eyes. Which hurt.

But not as much as the fact Geralt had stopped petting him. He shifted into Geralt’s petting hand demanding he get back to work with a sharp chirp.

Geralt resumed his gentle stroking, lips twitching slightly upward. “So bossy.” He complained.

They laid there as the sun went down; quiet and exhausted.

“We used to do this a lot. When your wing was broken. It was nice.”

He softly trilled an agreement.

“I could smell you on Roach when I got back you know? I thought you had left. I understand if you’d left. After what I did.”

He blinked tiredly at Geralt before standing to shift up. He didn’t want to have this conversation now but if Geralt did then. Well then they’d have it now.

“Don’t.” Geralt’s hands shifted slightly, like they were caging him in. They weren’t. He knew he could get out. Knew that if he wanted to leave Geralt would let him.

He settled back into Geralt’s fingers, more than happy not to.

“Tonight. Can we be that again? Just for tonight.”

Be simple. Be easy.

Nenneke always scolded Geralt for thinking he could deny destiny. Because she cared about him and knew destiny would have her way, willingly or not. It would he agreed. Geralt couldn’t run away from her forever.

But he did help him run away from it. Sometimes. Like tonight?

Tonight destiny could go fuck itself.

Tonight they were just a bird and a man sharing each other’s company.

Tonight they were easy.

[wolveria]

Blue Moon - Chapter 1

Pairing: Android werewolf!Nines x Reader

Summary: It was Halloween night when you stumbled across the android that looked more monster than machine. Damaged and alone, you didn't have the heart to leave him behind.

You'd always had a weakness for strays.

Prompt: Inspired by art!

Warnings: Rated E, eventual smut, Zlatko experimentation, monster romance

AO3

You pulled your coat closer in a useless attempt to ward off the cold. Winter had decided to make an appearance early this year as snow laid on the ground, and you lamented over the fact you’d chosen to walk home instead of take a taxi. The coffee shop was only a couple blocks away from your apartment, but it felt like a cross country trek as your breath billowed out of your mouth.

The wind rustled through the trees and you shuddered again. The park you’d taken a shortcut through was a good size, and you could no longer see the streetlights that signaled civilization was near.

Why had you decided to do this, again? And on Halloween night? Not that you believed in the paranormal or anything—

You dropped your nearly-empty coffee cup, the last drops spilled and forgotten on the footpath. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared out at you from the underbrush around the base of a tree.

Before you could think to scream, a low whine came from the bush. You placed your hand over your heart and let out a long breath, smiling faintly. It was just a dog, that was all. And the light from the full moon must be making its eyes glow like that. Yes, that’s all it was.

“It’s all right,” you said, offering your hand in what you hoped was a friendly manner, praying it didn’t have rabies. “Come here, boy.”

There was a low thudding noise accompanied by the brush moving. A sad, fluffy tail thumping against the ground.

You gave a sympathetic “awwww” and lightly patted your thighs, hoping to coax it out of its hiding place.

“You poor thing. Are you cold? I bet you’re hungry. Come here, sweetie, let’s get you some… food…”

Your voice trailed off as the glowing pair of blue eyes rose, higher and higher—definitely not at canine level—before it stepped out of the shadows.

It was huge, or at least seemed that way when you’d been expecting a large dog at most. Standing on two legs, it reached over six feet easily, not including the wolfish ears that stuck up from its head. With blue-black fur, sharp nails and a hint of teeth peeking out from its lips, you would have never guessed it was an android if not for the spinning yellow ring at its temple.

The android was also completely naked, not a stitch of clothing to be seen, and you quickly snapped your eyes back up to its face, face flushing at the sheer size of what you’d seen.

It—he took a hesitant step toward you, and if you’d had any of your senses left, you would have run. Android or not, you were fairly certain you were about to be murdered and eaten, and not necessarily in that order.

But your joints were locked, your limbs frozen, and all you could do was watch as the android bent down and wrapped a clawed hand carefully around your discarded coffee cup. Stepping directly in front of you, he slowly held the cup out, his ears laid flat as if afraid you were going to whack him with a rolled up newspaper.

You glanced from face to his outstretched hand. That was when you caught sight of the gash across his ribcage, the exposed internal circuits glittering in the dark.

You’d always had a soft spot for injured animals. And while he might not be an animal, per se, it was close enough that you gently took the coffee cup and gave him a soft thank you.

His ears perked and his tail wagged hopefully as he retracted his hand. He continued the slow wag of his tail as he stared at you expectantly. It took you a minute to realize what he was waiting for. He was, after all, an android, and a canine-like one at that.

He was waiting for orders.

“Are you lost?” you asked. Was he even programmed to talk? “Where do you live? Do you need help getting back home?”

You almost asked who his owner was, but it didn’t feel right. You suspected you’d made the right decision when the question had him folding his ears back, his floofy tail dipping towards the ground.

“Uh, that’s okay.” You tried you best at a soothing smile. “The police station isn’t far from here. I can take you there—“

It was precisely the wrong thing to say; his LED went red and he winced as if you’d slapped him. You weren’t at all prepared for him to open his mouth, and a raspy, rough voice to come out.

“No. Please. Not there.”

You gawked up at him, hardly believing what you’d heard with your own ears, but the android could definitely talk. As strange as he looked, he was capable of communicating his wants.

…and you’d heard rumors about the kinds of androids that wanted.

Carefully you glanced around, but no one else had come across the two of you. It was lucky it was Halloween when most people would be trick-or-treating or handing out candy; the last thing you needed was to be caught in the middle of the night, in a park, with a strange, naked android.

“Okay. No police station.” You rubbed at your arms as you glanced him over, immediately regretting it as your sight dipped below his belly button. Looking away resolutely, you offered, “Why don’t you come back to my place, just for tonight? Get you some clothes and then… we can have a talk.”

Finally, you had said the right thing. His ears went all perky and his tail wagged its fastest yet, but most of all, his LED went blue for the first time. It was the same shade as his glowing eyes.

You gulped. This was such a fucking bad idea.

“I would like that,” he said, voice all soft and gentle. And just like that, you were a goner. No turning back now.

“Come on,” you sighed, stepping around him to continue in the direction of your apartment. It was a bit silly still hanging onto the empty coffee cup, but all you could focus on was the near-silent footfalls behind you as you tried to come up with the best way to sneak a naked android werewolf into your apartment.

***

As it turned out, dealing with the android was a lot less surreal when he had clothes on, even if it was a pair of sweatpants and a tight sweater that barely fit him. You’d have to order some clothes for him tomorrow

If he even wanted to hang around that long. You were under no illusion that if he wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be able to stop him, but for now he seemed content to stay.

The android was currently standing in your living room, fussing with the hem of the sweater that barely covered his waistline. You covered your mouth with your fingers in a poor attempt to hide a smile. Now that you were confident he wasn’t going to eat you, the android was actually quite adorable. You’d even cut out a hole in the back of the pants for him to pull his tail through.

You plopped down onto the couch and padded the cushion next to you. It had been a long time since you’d had a houseguest, and it said a lot about your state of loneliness that you were excited over having a strange android for company.

Said android stared at you for a moment before perching, quite primly, at the other end of the couch. The fact he had to move his tail out of the way before he sat down ruined the composed image he was trying to convey.

He really was very odd, and not just because of all the wolfy bits. This android seemed very much alive, a fact that should have had you picking up the phone to call the authorities. But… you didn’t.

Instead, you bombarded him with questions. What was his name? Where did he come from? Was he a custom model? How had he been injured? The wound looked ghastly, but he hardly noticed it. You made a mental note to add Thirium and android chassis repair sealant to the shopping list. You’d never owned an android before, but you’d always been fascinated with them and knew the basics of what they needed.

“RK900,” was his answer to your first question. He skipped over to the third. “I am… I was a prototype created by CyberLife to assist law enforcement. It would be safer for you if I said nothing further.”

Unable to imagine an android like this working with the police, you guessed he’d looked different, before. More like a standard android instead of one so altered he was nearly unrecognizable.

“Okay, I won’t pry,” you said, amassing all your willpower not to assault him with more questions, the biggest one being why do you look like something out of my deepest, darkest, most shameful wetdream? Yes, you were definitely not venturing into that territory.

Your next question was caught on a yawn, and you looked away as your face grew warm. He was just an android, why were you being so self-conscious about every little thing you did?

It could have been the way he’d watched you ever since you’d stumbled across him in the bushes: laser-like focus that never broke. It didn’t help that the sclera of his eyes were black, making the blue stand out even more.

Also, he didn’t blink. Like, ever.

“I’m gonna head to bed.” You thumbed over your shoulder toward the hallway. “Will you be all right out here? Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” he said. “And no.”

You were picking up on his mannerisms very quickly. He over-enunciated and spoke with perfect grammar. It was in direct contrast to the way his sharp nails toyed with the sweater, or the way his ears would swivel at sounds you barely noticed. At some points in the conversation, he would tilt his head at you in a way that was so dog-like, you had to keep fighting down the smiles. You’d definitely never met an android like this one before, even if he had looked perfectly human.

“I will be fine,” the RK900 added when you continued to stare. “I will rest and repair. I have neglected to enter stasis mode for… quite some time now.”

His eyes dropped to the carpet, demeanor evasive and uncomfortable. It took everything you had not to reach out and pet him on the head.

“I shouldn’t intrude in your personal space. I will be gone in the morning.”

And then you did reach out, placing your hand on his arm. He was solid and surprisingly warm under the fabric of the sweater.

He stared at your hand for a moment before slowly lifting his head to meet your eye. His expression was so… sad. You had no doubt it was authentic, and that you were right about what he was.

“Please, you don’t have to go.” Your voice was soft, ensuring it was a suggestion and not a command. “You’re more than welcome to stay. I want to help you. Will you let me do that?”

The ring on his temple was a solid yellow and you nearly pulled your hand back, but then it went blue and he gave a small nod. You sighed with relief and gave him a gentle pat before letting him go.

“Thank you.” You rose to your feet, stretching to get the kinks out of your shoulders. It was stressful bringing a wayward android home. “I’m just down the hall if you need me. See you in the morning.”

Before you made it to the hallway, you paused and half-turned.

“Do you have a name?”

He blinked up at your question.

“I mean, I know RK900 is your model number, but… you have a name, don’t you?”

His ears drooped. You were learning they were a better indicator of his thoughts than the color of his LED.

“No. CyberLife never gave me one.”

Of course they wouldn’t, you thought, not the first time you’d unhappy with the way androids were treated. CyberLife was by far the worst. Why would they care about any of their merchandise?

“Well, maybe you can come up with one.” You hoped he understood the things you weren’t saying aloud, that you understood what he really was beneath the strange exterior.

His ears perked up and his expression softened.

“That… would be nice.”

Before you could say anything to embarrass yourself, or worse, run over to him and give him a hug, you excused yourself to get ready for bed. Already your mind was going through a checklist of all the things you’d need to care for an android in the long-run, and that was being optimistic. The RK900 could still change his mind. There was still so much you didn’t know.

It wasn’t until you shut off the lights and stared at the ceiling that the implications of your actions truly hit you. You’d seen the news reports, read the independent websites that couldn’t be suppressed by CyberLife. There were androids out there, said to be “lethally malfunctioning,” that were disobeying and turning on their humans.

One of the most common signs to watch out for was mimicry of human emotions. Anger, was the main one, but there was also fear. And that was something you’d seen a lot of tonight shining out of the RK900’s eyes.

You weren’t just harboring an android that looked like a werewolf.

You were sheltering a deviant.

[seizethecarpe]

Shift Happens || Nicole and Dave

Timing: Current Parties: @nicsalazar @seizethecarpe Summary: Dave and Nicole narrowly escape a mauling from a “wolf” Warnings: some gore/body horror

The sun was almost set, dim light filtering through dense trees as Nicole ventured deeper into unknown territory. The night was upon her and she hadn’t been able to spot a hiking trail for almost an hour. Getting lost in the woods wasn’t a common occurrence for her. Exploring the vast forest White Crest had to offer was only possible if she strayed from the established limits set for humans. But she always found her way back to civilization. There was no need to panic yet, despite the night threatening to fall soon. She’d find her way back, she always did. Her steps halted, an exasperated breath escaping her lips. She stood and listened to what the forest had to say. The ominous whispers of the wind, the light, scurrying steps of small creatures looking for shelter from night predators, the chirping of insects. And then, at the distance, the faint splash of a waterfall. Possibly a creek, somewhere. With that knowledge she carried on,  sharp eyes darting in the shadows. She was buried in the heart of the woods when she found unexpected company. Down the field and partly hidden, was a couple. Not the smartest of dating spots, she mused. Blush crept in her cheeks at the thought of interrupting and asking for directions, but before she could walk down to them, a branch cracked behind her. She held her breath at that, moving stealthily for cover. Her nostrils flared, confused at everything she was picking up. She had to be wrong. Why did it smell like the sea so deep in the woods? And there was something else, too— something she didn't have time to process, because the shiny eyes she caught across from where she stood sent her heart racing. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had found the couple’s sanctuary.

Dave had found himself favouring the shadows the last few days. It was his impulse to sneak around, like it would be better to ambush everyone, even the old lady with dragon’s breath who worked at the convenience store. Already tolerant of the cold, Dave had begun to seek out more cold in even in the dead of winter, his shoulders bare as he walked through the forest. He could smell so much, the decaying wood under the trees, squirrels cache’s deep under the dirt, rotting flesh up in a tree from a pixie that had been hit by hail wrong. He smelled everything, but what he really wanted was to feel everything. Thick fog let him feel everything, but he still kept pressing his cheek against trees and walls because of how much he wanted to feel. He could smell folks nearby, and before he even understood why his mind began to consider how to flank the, like they were penguins for him to ambush. Dave had never even eaten a penguin, making everything weirder. Still, as he wandered closer and closer to the sound of water, he became acutely aware of others there. Dave wrinkled his nose as he looked at the couple. There was something weird about the smell of the man, but he didn’t know what. The man was possessive in his touches, nuzzling his face into her neck. Pursing his lips, Dave began to look for a way around them. He sure as hell didn’t want any part in that. 

In a beat, Nicole hid her body behind a tree, looking over her shoulder. The couple still were unaware of the company. She breathed in deeply, as quiet as possible. She could go around the trees and investigate what was on the other side. Confirm it was only an animal. Then, go down the clearing and ask for directions. Great plan, she decided, carefully stepping down from the edge and venturing in the trees again. Part of her begged her to turn the other way, find another path, do the sensible thing for once. She was possibly walking straight into danger with nothing but a bottle of water and some snacks in her backpack. Her eyes fixed on a passing shadow at the distance, heart jumping to her throat. And for a brief second her control slipped. Amber eyes flashed and her vision was nitid in the dark, making out what her brain processed as a shoulder. Eyes shot to the ground, until she was sure her vision returned to normal. She kept her head down, afraid she might have scared whatever she was chasing. Her steps were cautious as she continued to approach, quietly stalking, waiting to be perfectly sure she had the upper hand. Then, she did something equally stupid and brave. “I...I can hear you” despite the statement, her tone was laced with uncertainty. Could be an animal. More often than not, it was the case. It didn't explain the shadow, or the bare shoulder she believed she had seen. She was being paranoid. The forest was known for its deceptive shapes. “I’m not— I’m not dangerous” she spoke aimlessly, knowing it was unlikely to have the effect she wanted.

There was the smell of some kind of cat or fox or something that Dave picked up as she watched the couple, his cheek still pressed against rough bark even though it served little purpose for working out more about them. He tilted his head curiously, trying to work out what he was picking up on, whether it was a local predator or just the scent of their tabby’s fur clinging to their clothes. But he realised after a moment that it wasn’t them, that it was something bigger and far closer, but it was downwind from him, he’d caught it too late, so as he turned he heard a human voice. Dave rubbed his face in frustration, straightening up because he knew it looked like he’d been trying to sneak around. Well, he had been, but that was just because-! Dave didn’t know why he was doing it. “Well, I can barely hear you, so come out where I can see you,” Dave replied eventually, looking around. “Nor am I.” Having turned his attention away from the couple, he heard the crack of twigs as one of them began to move, but not the accompanying noise of complaint. 

Nicole waited, her jaw set until the other voice came. Her judgement wasn’t the best, but at least the voice did not twist her stomach with dread. Small victories. Now what? She didn’t like it when she had to share space with other hikers, but she exhaled sharply at the request, navigating through bushes and trees until she reached the source of the voice. She wasn’t wrong, it had been a shoulder she had spotted before. And while she had more pressing questions to ask, they took the backseat to judge his appearance instead. “Jesus, aren’t you fucking cold?”. She shook her head, hoping to gain back some focus, but in the time she looked away from the couple, something went down. A scream filled the air, and the stranger in front of her was forgotten. Her head whipped down to the field. The screams continued, growing desperate, pleading. The couple was gone. It was just a woman, and a massive dark figure hovering over her. “What…” An animal? It didn’t look like a bear, and she doubted she could find any other beast as big as that in the forest.  Unless— the hair on the back of her neck stood. It was all too much to process in two seconds. “What the...fuck is—” her words died, eyes widening in horror.  

Dave frowned at her question, before looking down at his exposed arms and calves before shrugging with a wry smile. “Cold doesn’t bother me,” he replied, his words cut off by the scream behind him. He immediately tensed, crouching behind the tree as he smelled thick blood in the air, clogging up his nose. For a brief second, he saw the man staring at the woman in guilt, flesh dangling between his  human teeth. The next, he saw a terrifying beast, It’s jaw cracking as it extended and narrowed into a maw. If Dave had had any intentions to try and save the woman they quickly faded as he realised that they weren’t dealing with any monster but a werewolf. His breath caught in his throat. He knew he had his foolhardy moments, but Dave didn’t fuck with werewolves, not ever. Considering their impressive hearing and sense of smell Dave suspected that the werewolf knew where they were already but for right now it was distracted, tearing the woman apart. If he couldn’t do anything to intervene, then Dave could at least give her the dignity of not looking away. The moment her scream ended was the loudest, but the wolf did not stop tearing into her. “We’ve got to go,” he growled at Nicole. “Now.”

 Nicole closed her eyes, hoping that would erase the image etched in her brain. The blood, the screams, the horrifying beast that shouldn’t be real. She was about to be sick and the stench under her nose didn’t help. She knew werewolves existed. She heard countless stories from other rangers. It was likely she had been near some at any point in the woods, evading them by sheer luck. She knew of them, but nothing had prepared her for the viciousness of their behavior. She vaguely registered the stranger speaking to her, but it took seconds for the words to finally find its meaning. She blinked her tear filled eyes, willing herself to turn away from the gory scene. The words rushed out of her mouth, all jumbled together. “Wha— what do you mean...what do you mean go, she’s—” she stepped forward, but hesitated to jump to the clearing. Why was he talking about leaving, when there was a person dying in their proximity. Looking back to her didn’t help. Anger burned in her chest. Were they supposed to let that beast tear into her like she was nothing? Like some meaningless chew toy? No, she was somebody. Someone had to be waiting for her to come home. People who loved her. She didn't deserve to be ravaged by a monster to never be found again. She froze on the spot, the adrenaline clouding her thoughts. “N-No. We— I have...there’s gotta be a way to stop that thing”. 

“Ain’t nothing we can do for her,” Dave said harshly, shifting the weight on his injured leg. “Look at me, look at me. Neither of us have a rifle with us, neither of us are equipped. Animals like that, we can’t stop them.” His eyes slid past her to the wolf tearing through the woman’s thigh, her leg jolting and jerking about as the tendons clung futilely to her bones. Skin hung off the back of the looming werewolf, dripping blood down its fur. “We gotta go.” Pointedly, he began moving himself, gesturing pointedly for her to follow. 

She knew —of course— that his words were true. Nicole couldn’t fool herself. The woman had stopped screaming, and the only sounds coming from the field belonged to the wolf. She was gone. Frustration brought tears to her eyes, and she stubbornly refused to follow the man’s command.  He could go if he pleased. She had to wonder why she was still considering running down and trying to stop it. Stop what? she’d only end up being the second course. His words dawned on her. Animals. Beasts. Monsters. That’s what the werewolf was. What she was too, if she were to lose control. She flinched, but forced herself to watch the beast tear the woman’s leg off. Had she done that too, when the jaguar took over? Did she have bodies count too? She clenched her jaw, angry eyes fixing on the stranger. Fuck off.  An unfamiliar urge to take on him burned in her chest. But logic prevailed, and she relented from the edge of the trees. If they were lucky, the wolf was still too busy with his meal to hear her shuffling between branches. “You’re too fucking calm— too fucking calm... for someone who just watched a person get fucking—” she shook her head, furiously wiping the tear rolling down her cheek.

Once she started moving, Dave didn’t fuck around, hurriedly leading them both through the thicket. Fortunately in winter there wasn’t quite so much greenery obscuring the forest floor, following a river route, but the wet, rotten leaves left much to be desired underfoot. He saw her tears and didn’t care, couldn’t care, until he couldn’t smell blood and bone and canine in the air. She still smelled like the dozen or so cats she must have in her home, though. “I ain’t calm,” he growled, turning back on her, suddenly as angry at her as he was at the fucking nerve of the kind of werewolf that delighted in tearing people apart. Dave’s lips curled into a sneer, unable to shake the image of her skin dangling in the man’s mouth before he’d twisted into his other form. “You don’t get to accuse me of anything when you were prepared to stand there and get eaten!” He breathed in deeply, catching the hint of wolf on the wind, and gestured sharply for them to keep moving. 

Nicole dragged her feet behind him, letting out shaky breaths through her mouth. An attempt to control the urge to cry harder. She only grew more frustrated when the branches kept poking at her clothes and hair as they moved closer to safety. Her reaction as he turned was swift. She stepped back out of reach, hands rising. Part apology, part defense. She swallowed the angry reply, but kept her hardened gaze on him. She would never win a verbal fight. Not without bursting into tears in the process. And would that even count as a win? She had already embarrassed herself enough. And he wasn’t wrong. Guilt sat in the pit of her stomach. She had done fuck all to help the woman. Just yell that she needed help. What good did that do? She was thankful he continued to move. The scent of the beast grew stronger, and judging the by its paws against the grass, it was headed in same direction as them. “It’s coming this way” she warned softly, eyes darting around searching for a solution. Hiding from a werewolf wouldn’t work. Taking a detour maybe, if he hadn’t sniffed them yet. Climbing? She could, but was unsure on her companion. “Any good at running?” she regretted it as soon as it left her mouth, glancing at his injured leg.

  They’d followed a nearby river for as they trudged on, Dave kicking the thicket underneat out of the way as he impatiently lead Nicole through. Recent snowfall and freezes meant the river was threatening to flood its banks. The rushing of the river might just be enough to hide the sound of her sniffling as they trudged along. But he wasn’t angry at her, not even as she glared at him. Considering everything, she was doing a damn fine job of keeping herself together. Dave smelled it, thick wolf fur soaked with blood. It had delighted in its first meal, and it was plunging through the forest, still uncertain on its legs with a strange gate, searching for them. “Shit, shit.” He looked at Nicole, caught her question, and nodded, he’d deal with his pain later. “When need’s must,” Dave said, but as the gangling monstrosity thundered through the trees before them, skin dangling off its back, sinew dripping blood from between its teeth, he knew they would not be fast enough. Dave looked once at Nicole, once at the river, slung his arm around her middle, and plunged backwards into the icy river, letting the water sweep them away as he held her head above the freezing current. 

 They had agreed to run, and though Nicole couldn’t form any words, only managing a nod to confirm they were on the same page. Until the wolf surged among the trees. Too fast to even sense it. Although delayed, the real threat of the beast made her survival instincts finally kick in. She had to run, leave the injured behind. Maybe the man would even agree, as he’d wanted to do that with the first victim. It only remained a passing thought, as one moment later an arm wrapped around her and pulled her into the river.  It seemed to happen in slow motion, sinking in the water.  But it still didn’t prepare her for the cold shock response. She gasped sharply, limbs kicking in a panicked state. Something was keeping her head afloat so she wouldn't take water into her lungs. Someone, she vaguely registered. She kept fighting to release herself from the hold, her brain unable to process what was happening. She began to hyperventilate when the spasm in her leg sent another wave of panic. She was going to drown. With her heart at her throat, it was all she could think of. She had to relax, then. She knew this. She was good in water. She had to let the river take them. It was that or drowning. It felt like ages until the shock passed and she stopped resisting, the current carrying them river down, out of the wolf’s grasp. When the land seemed to narrow enough, she held onto anything she could find to push herself out of the water. 

Dave let her go as they reached a river bank, heaving himself out of the water with practiced ease before offering his hand for her. Despite the frigid temperatures, he didn’t even have a shiver yet, but he was worried about her. Twice fold, considering the number of bruises she’d managed to give him while they were in the river. Dave rubbed one such bruise on his jaw ruefully, looking her over with concern. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t see we had much of a choice. Pretty damn sure we lost it. God help us if we didn’t. You alright?”

  Refusing his helpful hand, Nicole dug into wet soil and rocks to get out of the water. She scrambled to her knees first, only to lie on her back soon after it was clear she didn’t have energy left to hold herself up. She panted, shivers rippling through her body. Teeth clattering, she held her backpack close to her chest, weakly patting her arms to create any sense of warmth. “F-fu...fuck” she let out a long, shaky groan. Her eyelids were heavy. The man’s voice came, and she craned her neck searching for him. She clenched her jaw, exhaling sharply through her nose. She couldn’t stop shaking, but breathing wasn’t so painful anymore. She reckoned she was only alive by the sheer determination to fight him once they made it to land. A fire that burned through the icy current. His words, however, subdued her almost instantly. She was too tired. A warning would’ve been nice, sure. But he acted quickly and led them to safety. If she had energy to feel, she would’ve been thankful. “Don— N-no” she tilted her head to the side, that was as much as a negative as she could offer. Her body jolted again, and she rolled to her side. Why didn’t he look terrible? It was like he took a dip at the beach. Not a shiver, not even a— “Wh- happ’n…” eyes fixed on his bruise, confused. “You ‘kay?” 

“You hit me,” Dave replied wrily, looking at her on the ground critically. “Jesus, girl, you’re freezing.” But he was just as soaked as she was, his clothes wouldn’t help warm her up. “C’mon, let’s get going. Not letting you catch your death like this.” She was still shivering, which was good, but they’d need to move fast. Hell, they were a ways from his van, but maybe there was somewhere else nearby that he could help her get warm. “Need to move fast, alright? Can you do that or do I gotta call someone out here?” If it was the latter, that would be an issue. He didn’t not know where they were, but like hell could he give directions over the phone easily. He bent over to help her to her feet, his hands unusually warm. “Are you hurt?”

“Oh” The slight twitch in her eyebrows was the only clear sign of surprise in Nicole’s face. She didn’t apologize. He was ready to keep going, and she let out a grunt. How was he still in good shape? Maybe he made the habit out of jumping into cold water. He looked too adjusted to the temperature even before that. “N-no. No” at the suggestion, she managed to move her head with more energy. She’d rather be dead than call for help. Just like that, she began to warm up. “I can” she swallowed, a shiver running down her spine. She sat up. Taking his hand to help herself up, she shook her head. Trying to save energy by talking as less as possible “F-fine...just—” freezing. They could walk until they hit the road, then she could call an uber. Decent plan. She took a couple tentative steps, gauging the state she was in. Okay enough. She removed her jacket, letting more water drip. In the meantime, she took in the surrounding scents and sounds to orient herself. She dragged her feet down the path she believed would lead them to the road. “How...are you fine?” she huffed, shuddering again. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, but she couldn’t let it go.

“Alright,” Dave replied, not one to argue with someone so determined to be alright. “I’m a sailor, taken plenty of tips out of the boat. Guess I’ve built a resistance to it. Not as much practice getting away from wolves.” Dave waved his hand, walking a little unsteadily, his leg stinging like a jellyfish cloud. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, forever grateful he’d invested in such a water tight cover. “Thank fuck,” he said soon as he smelled tarmac and rubber burn - a surefire indication they were near a road. “We’re gonna have to call the police or something to let them know about that feral beast attacking that couple. I know it must’a been scary to see that.”

“Guess that explains the—” Nicole stopped, as her foot almost got caught on a protruding tree root. He did smell so much like the sea. At least that part of the puzzle was solved. She forgot where she was heading with that sentence, distracted by the mention of wolves. In the commotion and the shock, she didn’t stop to think about how fast he was to figure they were in the presence of a werewolf. She shot him a quick glance, debating her next words. It was always strange to meet people who knew of the supernatural but being unable to discuss it. Because he knew didn’t he? He did. Was he one of them too? She bit her tongue, it wasn’t the time. “Sure”. What were the police going to do about a beast like that? Just serve as the next meals. But she kept her mouth shut, unsure if she kept shaking her head because she didn’t agree with him or due to the cold. “Right” she nodded, and it took all her mental strength to not blow up over his lack of reaction again. He might as well be the reason she lived to tell the tale, she reminded herself. “More used to finding bodies already dead in the woods than—” her throat tightened again. She wasn’t sure she’d get the image off her mind any time soon. Better to move on from the topic. “Can hear the road close, no?” 

 “Sure isn’t the kind of thing you wanna get used to,” Dave agreed quietly, almost as an apology for how calm he’d been before, unflinching at the sight of the woman’s brutal demise. “Don’t go feeling guilty now, there was nothing you could have done for her, alright?” He wasn’t sure any of that was helping, he’d never been all too good at the comforting thing, but it needed saying, He nodded at her question, hopping over a fallen log and pushing through a bushy thicket and onto the main road.

 “Yeah. If you call a car, I’ll stay with you until it gets here. Wouldn’t want that animal coming back for you without back up.” In the meantime, he’d debate back and forth, over and over, like he had for much of his life, whether this was the kind of wolf it was better to call a hunter on, or whether it was better to leave well enough alone. 

 Looking over at Nicole shivering, Dave had no doubt he knew what her answer would be. 

 No. It wasn’t. But if Nicole had to choose between finding someone already dead or watching them die, the choice couldn’t be easier. “Guess it happens when you live here”. As usual, curiosity struck in the worst moment, wondering if the man had seen it happen before. It explained his lack of reaction. While his words rang true, it didn’t ease the guilt. The pressure extending from her stomach to her chest was hard to ignore. It wasn’t just her inability to take action, but she couldn’t wrap her brain around other reasons yet. Maybe she was upset because she couldn’t get the image of the beast tearing into a human off her head. Maybe she was just hungry and tired. She thought of the human within the beast, and the breathing she had managed to steady turned erratic again. It worked as a reminder that she could never lose control over herself and risk the same thing happening. 

 It didn’t look like either of them were particularly good at conversations, but for once Nicole preferred that way. She didn’t think she would remember much of the night besides the wolf and the icy river anyway. When the car arrived, she glanced at him one last time. If anything, to remember his face. The ‘thank you’ was left unsaid. She wondered briefly what would happen to him, but the most pressing thoughts were those of her warm bed. She did wish for him to find his way home safely, at least. 

[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 4. Dangerous Uncharted Territory

Once the portal was open, Black went through first to scout for any potential danger. After a few minutes, he gave the go ahead to come through. Oddly enough, the land was striking. It was full of life, unlike the opposite side of the mountains. There were trees and grass as far as the eye could see instead of a harsh and unforgiving desert or wasteland.

Hades was the next to go in, trotting about and keeping an eye out for danger. Finally, Leere walked in. The sun was bright, and the sky was blue. The air was more breathable than Omisha as well. She guessed they were still closer to the border than central Malus, because if she looked far enough, she could see mountains in the distance. The area they were in had many hills, with fields of grass and vibrant flowers around them. Taking a breath, she looked to Bonegrinder, honestly confused, but a little relieved. Finally, she settled on a little sarcasm. “Land of torment and lifeless death, eh?”

"Don't you start, you haven't seen the inner city." Bonegrinder poked her nose with his finger. "This old snake has a long time ago."

"The land has recovered in these areas, though I am skeptical of the areas closer to civilization." Black looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was adept at tracking and studying the lay of the earth since his job was to be as sneaky as possible. "It has remained untouched for quite some time."

“Well, let’s look around. Can’t find what we are looking for if we don’t start walking.”

"Don't wander off, stay close." Bonegrinder repeated to Leere. "You never know what could be watching. Or who could be watching."

Hades was on the lookout, when he suddenly heard a snap of the grass about 50ft away. In the distance, an insect creature ran out of the tall grass. Suddenly, a reptilian creature, a beast akin to a raptor, jumped on top of it. It tore the insect apart, using claws to tear off its shell, talons on its feet to hold it in place, and sharp teeth to tear into its flesh. As it was eating, it picked up on a sound Hades made repositioning himself. It appeared to have no eyes or nose, simply having two holes in the side of its head.

Leere was cautious, yet fascinated by the pale reptile. Still, she dared not move.

"Oh fucking hell, I forgot about those." Black whispered under his breath to the others. "Don't move. They hunt based off movement through the earth."

The Reptilmox looked around, focusing on the movement of Black speaking. When Black stopped talking, it slowly started to lose interest. Why put energy in finding more prey when it made a kill? Grabbing its meal, it dragged it back into the tall grass to devour.

Hades waited a little while, before feeling confident it was far enough away. “Everyone keep walking.”

"Watch your step." Black told the group as they slowly made their way through the tall grass.

"And your back." "If one of those saunters out again, we will do our best to avoid fighting it." Bonegrinder informed the others. "Draw less attention. However, if it detects you and comes at you... run."

As they walked through the tall grass, they found the first sign of civilization. It was a pointed road sign that read, “Go back to Heilogtum.”

Leere looked around their surroundings. The area still had beautiful grass lands, but was now mixing opening up into a valley pass.

"Now that... was put here recently. Look, the wood hasn't rotted a bit." Black looked at the sign. "It's obviously a warning... but for what?"

Hades looked around, and was the first to see the danger. A pack of the pale reptiles, all the size of him, were running around the valley corner. “Incoming! Hold your ground!”

Trouble was heading their way. If the group had to flee, Bonegrinder was not too worried about Hades. The Lynel was fast. Black could run for ages, yet, he could not surpass the speed of one of those damn reptiles. Leere was only human and there was no chance if the reptiles were too close. With a slight indication of his head, Bonegrinder motioned for Black to get on his coils. So the assassin grabbed Leere and held tight to the Anagari.

Leere was ready to fight if needed be, but being grabbed would be make it harder for her to help.

Splitting into pairs, the reptiles circled Bonegrinder and Hades respectively. Hades already started to run in the direction the sign pointed. As one of the reptiles jumped at him, he reared back, kicking it with the force of ten horses in the head. The creature was more disoriented then anything, fumbling about.

The pair chasing Bonegrinder made a jump at him, wanting to claw him and tiny figures apart.

Bonegrinder was trying to keep his magic use to a minimum. If the demons of Malus were anything like those he faced in the past, the fiends would sense it and try to find him. Though, just because he could use magic, didn't mean he could not use brute strength. He whacked one reptile in the head with his massive tail and coiled his body around the other's neck, snapping it.

The Reptilmox left fighting Bonegrinder hissed viscously. Opening its mouth, a thick tongue shot out to try and snare Black of Bonegrinder from a distance.

Black reacted rather swiftly, reaching into his belt and pulling out his blade. He sliced off the tongue and pushed Leere down to avoid the appendage.

Able to at least cast magic, Leere pointed a hand out, and a necrotic ball of shadow energy shot out. Hitting the creature, it screamed, the flesh on its face boiling off.

As two more were about to engage, there was a loud rumbling in the east. With a bark between them, they ran off, ignoring the prospect of food, fear taking its place.

Bonegrinder only uttered three words.

"Don't let go."

With that, he took off as fast as he could slither, Hades following behind him.

Leere did as she was told. She couldn’t see it, but she could hear the rumbling and feel the earth shake. In a mountainside, there was a cave with a sign pointing towards it. In the cave, a thick fog filled all its walls and area. When Hades approached it, he was the only one to feel a terrible effect on his body. He noticed one of the monsters veer away from the cave as well. It most likely would bring physical harm to monster kind. “Bonegrinder. You must flee here without me.”

"What?!" Bonegrinder was almost inside the cave when Hades' statement caught him off guard. He gestured for Black to stay with Leere while he slithered back to Hades. "This is the only place we have to hide right now. He cannot in good conscience leave you here alone!"

“I-I can’t explain it. I can’t enter.”

"Then he will stay with you to fight while Black guards Leere."

“No we-!!!”

“Oh dear god.” Leere muttered breathlessly.

Coming into view was a massive colossus. A construct of stone, earth, energy and a thick reek of flesh for a body. Turning a skull face with skin dangling from its mouth, it laid eyes on the group. Colossi Mata had the form of a massive tiger with the head of a dragon and the horns of a bull. Raising a hand slowly, it came down on an unfortunate Reptilmox, crushing it with the scale of an ant. Slowly, it turned its attention to the group. Despite looking like something that crawled out of hell, the Colossi was of balance and pure neutrality; it killed any creature it saw, be it monster, animal, human or demon so it might not escape Malus. Hades knew this was a flight situation, not fight. “No! Go through the cave! Now!” Without another word he started to run off. “I will find you later!”

"Kit, get back here!!!" Bonegrinder used the nickname he gave to the Lynel years ago, imploring him to move into the cave for safety. He tried to lunge at Hades, but the Lynel was too quick. He was off into the tall grass and the Anagari was forced to retreat into the cave.

The massive colossi turned its attention away from the group and onto the Lynel. The last Bonegrinder saw was a gigantic beam of light shoot from its horns and engulf all sight between the snake and Hades as it tried to eradicate the monster.

Leere held Bonegrinder’s hand as they ventured through the deep fog. She could feel the anguish almost radiate off Bonegrinder. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

"... he should be fine. He's been in worse situations than this." Bonegrinder tried to stay positive.

"It's funny to think that this old snake has known Hades since he was a small kitten."

"An angry cat, you mean." Black snorted.

“If you say he’ll be alright, I believe you.” Leere had no idea how deep they’d have to walk through this fog. Best they keep going with hopes high.

~

The heart of Malus was pumping hard as the Cults of Inferos double checked all their modifications on the Great Tower. For years now, a breakthrough was made that could harness untold cosmic and necrotic energies. If the tower could be modified, it could be used as a conductor for something truly horrific. The residents of Inferos were either horrified beyond belief of what was soon to come, or they ultimately resided to the future.

One man was checking symbols on an obelisk put in place, when a figure floated behind him.

“Are we certain preparations are working?”

The architect lowered his book, looking over his shoulder to look into the eyes of a being of shadow. The form flickered like static, glowing intense eyes not shy of radiating a deep sense of dread and evil. Even the most devoted cultists didn’t like to stare too long into those eyes. Looking back at the beacon, the architect answered. “All the Obelisks are set, and the engraving are set to the runes that have been instructed all down the tower.”

The architect then rubbed his brow, looking up at a sizzling worm hole not too far above his head. Ever since the Gods showed up, they gave gifts of sealed away knowledge. Most didn’t complain at first when they opened a gateway to a dimension of pure energy to siphon from, but then came all the undead that couldn’t be outright controlled… and all the visions that brought paranoia, madness, and anger to those who were ‘weak minded’. “I must ask, but why do we wait to use the tower? Is the energy source above us not enough?”

The shadow leaned closer, whispering from rotten lips into the Mortuus’ ears. “We need a summon forth an organism that would be powerful enough to be a connection between the dimension and the tower. And one that my master can trust.”

“Where is this organism?”

“Sealed away in the flesh and soul of a Mortuus woman.”

The architect once again wiped his brow, feeling sweat drip down his cheek. “Wait. That Mortuus?”

“Yes.”

“But she does not reside in Malus, let alone Inferos.”

“That is why your God has taken the time to bring about her long-awaited return to this monument to sin. Here, her purpose will at last be achieved.” The shadow growled happily into the man’s ear as a new sinister and deeper tone left its lips. “I have awaited a long, long time for this.”

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/625816338129207296/evils-bane-ch-3-onward-and-forward

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626093697379008512/evils-bane-ch-5-belief-scattered

[tisfan]

Title: A Thousand Words Written by: @tisfan 3023 Square: S5 Tony Stark/T’challa Rating: teen and up Triggers/warnings: none Tags: were creatures, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Wakanda,  Created for: @tonystarkbingo Word count: 1897 Summary: Tony knows he’s not supposed to cross the border, but the call of a prize winning photograph is strong. When he finds his subject, things are more than they appear...

Fic for the Photographer / werecreature mood board

 “And how am I supposed to know where the Wakanda border is,” Tony Stark, award winning photographer, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and self-proclaimed major annoyance, demanded. 

The guide only gave him one of those insufferable looks. “You will know,” he said. “And you must not venture over the border. Those who go to Wakanda often get sick. The disease will take its toll on your mind and body. If you even come back at all.”

Tony had used his considerable money and influence getting this far. One of his colleagues -- and his most loathed rival, if you wanted to pick nits -- had spotted a rare black panther. Keeping in mind that panthers were not, in fact, a real species at all, and Justin Hammer had all the keen insights of a brick, Tony was doubtful.

But the pictures of the great cat fleeing into the jungle had garnered national attention.

And Tony could take better pictures than ones of a blurry black cat. It might not even have been black, just bad lighting.

Whatever.

The point was, a melanistic tiger was a worthy photo subject, especially given how endangered tigers were, and that Tony could shine a spotlight -- metaphorically speaking -- on the species through some really good photos.

The problem was the creature seemed to live around the northern end of Lake Turkana. Which bordered on Wakanda. And Wakandans were very unwelcoming to visitors. Given that most of the rest of the continent had been invaded by northern Europeans and stripped of their rights and resources, and Wakanda had been spared that fate, Tony didn’t really blame them.

But that did mean that they wouldn’t give him permission to enter their country on a wild cougar chase.

He didn’t even get a meeting with the Wakandan ambassador himself; his message went through intermediaries, and all he got back was a no. No explanation or apologies. Just. no.  

Tony didn’t take no for an answer; he never had. It was both his best quality and his most annoying one.

He was going to get those pictures, with or without the Wakandans’ permission.

Of course, it would be easier if he could find the panther on the southern side of its territory. The Kenyan government had been all but falling over itself to accommodate him. Well, he’d have to hope.

Or sneak across.

“Why isn’t there any coffee from Wakanda,” Tony wondered, changing the subject. The guide wasn’t going to be going with him. Wildlife photo shoots were almost as dangerous as wartime shoots, and no one who could avoid it wanted to be that close to animals that might look at you like you were a snack. (Wartime photography was more dangerous, Tony knew for a fact, after spending three months as a prisoner of Ten Rings. If nothing else, a large cat wasn’t cruel. Just hungry. It wasn’t worth the cat’s time to keep Tony alive. If he was going to be kitty kibble, it would be over quickly, and he wouldn’t wake up from nightmares for more than four years now.) Tony’s mouth kept going without conscious input from his brain, because that’s what it did. “Kenya AA is some of the best coffee in the world. Burundi is an excellent bean. Why-- is there single source Wakanda bean?”

The guide gave Tony a condescending look. “The Wakandans do not grow coffee,” he said.

“Waste,” Tony muttered. “Well, I’ll stay out of their territory. No coffee, now that’s a hardship.” He would know Wakanda borders by all the sleeping guards. Got it.

*

He recalled the conversation, looking down at the grass. He didn’t know much about grass, really, except that it was green (usually) and growing on the ground (primarily) and that sometimes people made a fuss about how long it was in the yard.

You will know the Wakanda border when you see it.

Yeah, okay, so why didn’t anyone bother to mention the grass was fucking purple? You’d think that would be a relatively easy thing to say. Purple grass means do not trespass here. 

And it wasn’t just purple, Tony noted, kneeling. It was glowing. Very faintly, in the growing darkness, but it did make the small area very, very noticable.

Probably more so at night than during the day. Purple grass, it could be a thing, right?

Unfortunately for the purple grass, the damn panther had been seen-- well, just on the other side of that hill. Tony’d spotted it out in the plains, running along after some long-legged deer. Antelopes. Whatever. Probably not a gnu, except that Tony wouldn’t know what a gnu looked like if it bit him. 

He’d gotten a few action shots, but even with the telephoto lense, he really hadn’t gotten any good, personal shots.

He was just going to have to ignore the guide and cross over the border. Right? Wouldn’t hurt anything. In, take some pictures, out. No one had to know.

Stepping into Wakanda territory shouldn’t have felt like taking a step on the moon, but somehow, it sort of did.

Everything seemed softer, more natural, better. Fresher. Tony was obviously being influenced by the mythos and mystery that surrounded the place. Stupid, primitive monkey brain. He ignored the sense of awe and foreboding and crept toward the jungle.

He’d seen the great cat enter the trees, dragging its kill-- surely it would be too occupied with its meal to notice him. Animals didn’t hunt for sport, and eating an already killed and tasty gazelle was a better use of calories than catching one scrawny human photographer whose muscle tissue was flavored by cheeseburgers and kale smoothies.

He tugged on the night vision goggles, which brightened the landscape up considerably, and it wasn’t long before he saw the cat, laying on the branch of a tree, overseeing a small clearing. Tony was just to the edge of the woods and found himself a blind spot to sit, upwind of the great cat, before he noticed--

There were already people in that clearing, sitting outside of a low tent. One was kneeling near the gazelle, the other was poking at a small box that looked very much like a microwave, but couldn’t be, because no one dragged a microwave out into the jungle, did they?

Tony turned his camera carefully; with people nearby he had to be even more careful about making noise. A cat might be evaded. People were predation hunters. If they thought he’d desecrated their country or something, they would track him down.

One woman, one girl. The cat was watching them, and they obviously knew it was there. They were speaking a language that Tony didn’t know, and had never heard. But they were addressing some of their remarks to the cat.

Maybe that was it, Tony decided. Some cultures raised hunting dogs, or falcons, and those animals, over time, had grown into different colors and sizes that arose in nature. Look at the black lab, to the pekinese, to the dachshund. No one would think they all originally came from wolves. The black panther could be nothing more than a specially trained domesticated cat.

Which would be fascinating, but he’d have to consider very, very carefully if he wanted to publish those pictures, since it would be immediately obvious that he’d trespassed to get them. Didn’t matter. He’d decide later. Pictures now. He would be no sort of photographer at all if he let the opportunity pass him by. 

Tony took dozens of pictures; of the two women, one with black hair, the other with white, but both beautiful. Of the cat, lounging in the tree. Of the dead gazelle, neck neatly snapped but unmarred by the cat’s teeth otherwise.

Finally, whatever meal the one woman was cooking was done, and she said something to the other -- the smells were amazing. Tony’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a while, but he didn’t dare even try to get one of his granola bars out.

He focused on the meal. One, two… three. Three plates. The woman hesitated, sighed, and then made a fourth plate.

Tony blinked, then realized to his horror, that the cat was-- 

Coming right at him.

Tony took several pictures by reflex alone, which is the only reason why, later, he could convince himself that he hadn’t gone insane.

“You may as well come to dinner,” the cat-- the CAT? Said, walking toward him, body moving, and then shifting up onto two legs, and finally, a man stood there in front of him, noble and strong and pure and-- smiling?

“Tony Stark. I should have known you would not be so easily disuaded.”

Tony blinked and looked up at the man. There was something cat-like about him in his grace and figure. Very long, dexterous fingers reached down. “Come on up out of there. We’ve known you were there, the whole time. Do not think you can sneak up on the tribe of the Panther God. One of these days, it will get you into trouble.”

Tony reached for the man’s hand, not entirely sure if he was dreaming, or hallucinating in the last moments of his life. 

“You know me?”

“I am T’challa,” the man said. “You requested an audience with me, to plead your case. Of course I know who petitions me.”

“Your majesty,” Tony said. And then, because his brain was still running full cycle, he blurted out-- “You’re like, a werecat?”

T’challa scoffed, and the girl behind him made an even ruder noise. “No. We are not cursed monsters, like in your horror movies,” T’challa said. “It is a gift from the gods.”

“I don’t believe in God,” Tony said automatically.

“That’s all right, Mr. Stark,” the girl said, bringing a mug of something fragrant to drink. “God doesn’t believe in you either.”

“What happens now?”

“Now? Now you drink, and you have dinner, and after dinner, we will return you across the border,” T’challa said. He pressed the cup into Tony’s hand, and there was something in his eyes that didn’t allow for refusal. “You will, unfortunately, contract one of the jungle fevers. You will wake up in a few days, and you will have forgotten all about this night. You have seen nothing. You will remember nothing.”

“What--”

“It’s that, or we could kill you,” the girl said.

“Shuri--”

“I’m just saying, there are options.”

“But I--” Tony protested. 

“We are not stealing your memories,” T’challa said, and led him over to the fire. “We are only taking back that which you first stole from us. It is fair, and right, and you will never miss it.”

It was fair.

But-- the things he’d seen, that he’d photographed. They couldn’t be lost. And maybe they wouldn’t be. His camera uploaded automatically every ninety minutes. If he could just delay, the pictures would be on a Stark satellite and then downloaded to his home network. 

“All right,” he said. “Dinner, and you can tell me about your gods.”

When Shuri rolled her eyes, Tony added, “Does it matter? I won’t remember it anyway. What possible harm can it do for me to know, just for tonight?”

T’challa laughed, warm and rich and appealing. “You are a stubborn man,” he said. “I like that. Sit, share a meal, and listen to our tales.”

Ninety minutes…

Surely, the stories would take ninety minutes.

[kiara-carrera]

“wait you’ve never been on a date before” for dawn and thomas!!

this isn’t great, but i did what i could lolol ✨

Dawn stared at Thomas as if he’d grown twenty heads, like there was something wrong with him. Honestly, right now she wasn’t sure that there wasn’t something wrong with him based off what had just come out of his mouth.

They’d only known each other for a few months or so at this point. They’d met at her work, Thomas having come in to purchase a gift for one of his friends. She’d helped him locate some shitty novel she’d read and wouldn’t have recommended to anyone — she’d told him that to his face when he requested it. Her tone had been clipped and snarky, but something about it had him tipping his head back in laughter.

They’d hit it off, apparently. She wasn’t really sure what that was like to begin with, had nothing to go on. Their friendship, which bloomed after he frequented the bookstore a few more times, just to see her. He’d gotten her number and they’d gotten coffee as friends and he let her go on and on about the books that she did like and would recommend.

He was one of her first friends, really, and there was something nerve wracking and calming about that all in one.

But now? Now she was just confused. 

They’d been hanging out (casually, as always; she was wearing sweatpants and they were eating take out on his dingy little couch, that was as casual as you could get) when he’d sprung the question on her.

“Can I take you out sometime? On a real date?”

Her brain had short circuited. How could it not? It wasn’t like she was opposed to the idea, in fact it was the complete opposite. She’d been nursing attraction to him for weeks now. He was handsome and funny and there was something about him that was just so different from everything she’d ever known prior to this. It was impossible for her not to be attracted to him.

But him being attracted to her? That was something she’d never seen coming.

“Dawn?” Thomas asked, breaking her chain of thought. He’d set his lo mein down on the coffee table, shifting in his seat to wave a hand in front of her face. He was chuckling, but she could see the nervousness in his eyes. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head. A shy laugh escaped her. “Sorry, sorry. I just ... are you serious?”

Thomas was confused. “Am I ser — of course I’m serious. I mean, do you not want to go on a date with me? Because that’s totally fine, I probably just over analyzed this, I’m sorry, this must be totally awkward, I just thought ... never mind, it’s fine.”

He looked embarrassed and the entire situation felt uncomfortable, to be quite honest. He turned to the TV where an old rerun of some show Dawn had never heard of before was playing. They were silent for a few minutes before he cleared his throat.

“Look, this is really awkward now, and that’s totally on me,” he told her, “we can just forget it ever happened, really.”

Pursing her lips together, Dawn shook her head. “No, Thomas, I ... I’m not opposed to going on a date with you. I mean, honestly I’d kind of like that, I just didn’t think that ... ”

She drifted off, but he picked up her meaning easily. “That I’d want to go on a date with you? Because you shouldn’t think that, I do want to.”

A blush warmed her cheeks, something she wasn’t sure had ever happened to her before. She was used to being ... sullen. Butterflies and all this feelings crap was totally uncharted territory. “I want to, too.”

A brilliant smile broke out on his face, one she’d begun to cherish over the past few weeks. “Okay, great ... we can do whatever you want honestly, I haven’t been on a date in a while so whatever you’re up for, I’m game.”

Dawn frowned. “Um. I don’t really know ... ”

“Well, what kind of things have you enjoyed doing on dates before?”

Okay, so technically she had knowledge of what a first date looked like. She’d read books and seen movies, but like ... did people actually do those things in real life? She wouldn’t know. It didn’t matter how many dating and crush articles in teen magazines that Allison had forced her to endure during her teens, she had no clue.

She figured he deserved the truth but fuck was it awkward to say out loud.

“I wouldn’t know, because I’ve never actually ... y’know.”

It took him a moment to put it together.

“Wait, you’ve never been on a date before?” 

The question wasn’t malicious, that much conveyed by his tone and eyebrows knitted in confusion, but it still stung a little. Here she was, in her twenties, never having dated anyone. She was certain it was normal and normally didn’t care, but like ... she didn’t want this guy to think she was an absolute loser.

“You know where I’m from,” was all she said in reply, tone venturing on bitter.

When you spent your childhood and adolescence under Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ thumb, dating wasn’t exactly a thing.

She knew he knew. The Hargreeves name was famous around these parts. And they’d met in the summer. Her tattoo, the stupid encircled black umbrella, had been clear from him to see. They never talked about it. He never asked. The Umbrella Academy was public knowledge, but Thomas had never treated her like some one hit wonder celebrity or a monster.

He’d never treated her like Number Eight.

She liked him for that.

“Right, right,” he mumbled. “But really, no dates? You mean to tell me there weren’t people breaking down doors to date you?”

He asked that like it was ridiculous, like he couldn’t fathom no one having shown interest in her before.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p.’

A hand laid on her forearm. A kind smile was on his lips and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I’m about to knock your fucking socks off with the best first date ever.”

He sounded so certain and it caused her to giggle. “Oh, I’m sure it will be,” she teased, amused by his confidence.

(A week later, she stood corrected. It had been the best date ... and for that, the rest was history.)

[battlemaiden13]

Hello again! Long time with no asks from I am certain is your favorite local fae ^_~ As always, I suspect this ask may be in multiple asks, so here we go! I know this one sounds SUSPICIOUSLY close to a previous ask, but never you fear, I am not one for running out of ideas!... I just have a one track mind that doesn't seem to be derailing anytime soon. The ask! Once again we are venturing into cross territory of My Hero Academia and Undertale fandoms, (long winded ask continues)

13: I really like this crossover Fae. It entertains me, I hope my answers are sufficient. I also enjoy how you were basically like “I WANT EVERYONE, BUT NOT YOU SANS!! stay in the corner, Where you belong!” Ok you were nicer about it. 

PapyrusHe doesn’t connect the feeling with the villain he ran into a while ago. It’s not unusual for monsters to connect with more than one other being when it comes to soul mates so he doesn’t think that this regular looking human has anything to do with the villain he met earlier.  As such he will cheerily introduce himself and insist that the two of you become friends. Actually the two of you are regulars at the same cafe so you continue to run into him in your civilian attire on more than one occasion, each time he insist that the two of you become friends.

RedYeah, he nopes right out of this situation. He doesn’t care what this connection is or what it means he wants nothing to do with this or with you so he will leave. In fact avoiding you becomes a bit of a habit. Anytime he feels that tightening in his soul he will get the hell out of there, no matter what. The only time you have ever actually got a good look at this monster was the first time you met. That was until you accidentally managed to corner him in a bar storage room.

EdgeHe had grabbed your arm in a painfully tight grip before you even had a chance to register the fact that he was there. He was glaring down at you trying to determine whether the feeling in his soul was a bad one or a good one. He can’t decide and demands that you come with him, not giving you much of a choice as your in broad daylight and he literally drags you, he takes you to a cafe. It’s crowded so you can’t really get away and Edge treats it like an interrogation as he basically tries to figure out who the fuck you are.  

BlueHe figures that he’s just imagining things. There’s no way that this nice human is the same one as the villainous figure that stood before them earlier that week.  He wants to know more about the human in front of him, he’s always willing to make more friends and maybe if you get to know each other than he can figure out what that feeling is and why it won’t go away.

OrangeOh he is going to rat you out with zero hesitation. He’s gut feelings are never wrong and the fact that he has this strange connection to you just concretes the fact that you are that villain they ran into a few weeks ago. He doesn’t really like to make arrests when he’s off duty but for you sweetie he made an acception.

BerryHe denies that there is a connection there at all. So he ignores you that day and the next time you run into each other, and the next and the next. Until he basically gets fed up and yells at you to stay away from him. He knows he is maleficent and supremely evil but you don’t need to stalk him to get to know he’s evil ways. When you deny this he goes on to convince himself that you have obviously fallen in love with him, declaring all of this loudly and in public. He says he will give you one date, you have no idea how this happened.

SyrupHe had brushed off the feeling of a connection the first time deciding that it was probably just the dinner his brother made last night making his stomach turn. When it happens again, near a rather plain looking human he decided there was probably something more to it. So he decided to check it out. Started simply enough, he began by stalking your social media accounts but there wasn’t really anything of interest as far as he could tell you were a boring human women. He figured the feeling would go away eventually but one day you approached him and he kind of froze.

RouletteHe can tell what’s up right away and he actually manages to corner you in an alleyway and offers you a deal. Not that it’s much of a deal in your opinion it’s more like blackmail. Basically you can use your unique quirk and do a few jobs for his gang or decline and he can turn you into the correct authorities. Of course you mention that you could just turn him in but as you have the bigger bounty on your head it would still work in Roulette’s favour. Guess you just got a new job.

SniperIf you were on the street in ordinary clothing than Sniper was most likely on a job. He takes his job very seriously so he probably would of pushed that feeling of connection aside and continue on with what he was suppose to be doing. This happens a few more times with you two just passing by each other on the streets and then you save his life. The gang you are affiliated with and Snipers struck a deal so for now you were working together. He got in a shootout with a rival gang at a warehouse and was pinned down with a gun pointed at his skull before you showed up. 

[noccalula-writes]

Can you give us your detailed thoughts on Avengers: Endgame?

SPOILERY THOUGHTS ARE COMING.

The basis of most of my gripes are: if Age of Ultron hadn’t been so shittily written, a lot of this could have been avoided. Not all of it, but a lot of it. But I’ll go line item by line item outside of that thought.

First off, Steve. Y'all already know I’m a Stucky shipper, but even outside of the context of the ship - and I fully support people who feel their relationship is platonic but very intimate as long as they have been supportive of how emotional their story is, let’s do that more with male friendships please - you have to admit that there has been no greater, longer standing or fucking emotional relationship arc through the entire goddamn MCU than Steve and Bucky. Platonic, nonplatonic, whatever. We literally watch Steve tear down a branch of the goddamn government to get Bucky back, and since the first movie, Bucky has been his emotional touchstone. Steve’s singular dedication to rescuing and protecting Bucky has driven him to the heights of recklessness and has made him nearly sacrifice himself a dozen times.

But he ditches out on him, after he’s been dead for five years no less, to go back to the fucking fifties and derail Peggy’s entire well-lived life.

I don’t buy it. I think this was purposeful diversion to avoid appearing “too gay”, and it fucking infuriates me. There is an article on The Daily Dot that explores this better than I even thought to and you should definitely read it.

The idea of Steve getting to live a full life and be happy? Wonderful. But the way this was executed felt cold, clinical. We’ve spent more time developing emotional bonds with Steve than any other character in the MCU except maybe Tony, and yet we the audience were completely shut out of his feelings for the entire last half of the very last film. It felt like a door had been closed on us. There was none of the warmth of Steve, only the resolve of Captain America, and a very rash decision that felt so poorly planned after he said barely two things to the man who has been the axis of most of his decisions in this entire series.

Sam is absolutely the right choice for Captain America, though. That was what I was hoping for, and he deserves the mantel.

Tony Stark, love of my life, was set up to make the martyr play from the very first Avengers film. This is where it was always meant to go, and I have spent every movie since AoU waiting for it to happen. Honestly, I feel like Tony’s arc was the one arena where everything was done right (except, I’ll be honest, I don’t know how I feel about him having had a kid - I’m not mad at it, though). If you follow me you know I don’t think he and Pepper had real staying power no matter how much they love each other, but I also never anticipated that he’d be with anyone else, so this wasn’t a disappointment (I love Pepper, to be clear). I was proud of him. I was sorry he wouldn’t get to see Morgan grow up, but I was proud of my man saving the world.

I love him with all my heart. He’s made dumb decisions but when the metaphorical knife was against his throat, he came correct with absolute resolution.

Wanda might as well have been a cardboard cutout, which on one hand was fine because she had way more screen time in Infinity War than she’s had anywhere else since AoU (shudder), but she’s been reduced to this background character who got shipped off with Vision just so she’d have something to do (and yes, I know it’s comic canon, but it was so out of left field in the MCU that there was no way this wasn’t a factor in). Wanda is a wealth of possibility for a storyteller - think about the grief this character has endured (consider my consider, Wanda Maximoff diatribe from yesterday) and how she’s learned to use her power. Think about the evolution of going from a volunteer for a program to literally become a mutant to fight the Avengers and then becoming one and losing your fucking twin brother, the only constant in your life. Think about having to kill the only person you could try to put a life together with. Think about all of that and tell me she hasn’t been wasted in the background.

(Also - how in the fuck is Steve gonna tell his black best friend Sam that he preferred the fifties? Really? )

This brings me to what I think is easily the most egregious of all the fuck-ups in this movie - Clint and Natasha. This is where we can draw a direct line back to the problem in AoU, when Joss “Feminist Icon” Whedon decided that dropping a house, wife and 2.5 cardboard-ass kids we got zero development time on was a better answer than, oh, actually developing Clint as a character. Partially this was to promote Brucetasha, which as we all know went so fucking well through the rest of the movies, but subverting what he felt was the “obvious” ship for Nat (the irony of this being he said something along the lines of “well, Bruce and Nat made so much more sense to me” and pulled some lame ass Beauty and The Beast allegory out during an Entertainment Weekly interview about AoU and it’s ended up becoming one of the most hated creative decisions in the MCU as of yet.

Listen, if you want Clint and Natasha’s deep and intimate and formative relationship to be platonic-only, I’m cool with that. I ship ‘em but I also love male-female friendships that mean the entire world to the involved characters and are not romantic. But we were given a decision in AoU that was eliminated so many future possibilities and put us on the path we’re on now.

If you know Clint as a character, you know that he’s a loveable fuckup. THat’s kind of his schtick. I have no idea how they plan to make that work in the supposedly-happening Hawkeye series based on Matt Fraction’s run given that now we’ve got Clint married with kids and Natasha dead, but okay. Endgame takes Clint’s grief and weaponizes it, but naturally, we only ever see him killing people of color (they mention he killed a Mexican cartel, we see him going after Yakuza) ((if you couple this with the shaved haircut and the shitty Japanese-inspired sleeve, you start venturing dangerously close to white supremacist territory)).

Clint is dark and broken, and Natasha saves him - just like how Natasha was dark and broken, and Clint saved her. By not dying. So. I mean.

As I’ve said in another ask, here’s the thing: I would have been okay with Natasha making the sacrifice play if there had been no Bartons to bring back. I still would have been furious if they hadn’t loophole’d her ass back - What happens when Steve returns the soul stone? Do you get back what you paid for it? - but the idea that we had to trade the original female member of the team - the closest thing to diversity they had being a white woman is terrible but here we are - for one of the shittiest, most sloppily written things that Joss Whedon plunked down on a page? My blood boils.

It’s been like 4 days and I am still just beside myself angry about Natasha Romanoff. Furious. I love her and Clint and I don’t undersell the strength of their relationship but at the end of the day, she died so a man could go back to his family, because nuclear families are more important and Natasha has no one. I guess. I don’t know. I’m so fucking mad.

That pandering-ass “we’re doin’ us a feminism” scene of all the women fighting together, even though it made zero logistical battlefield sense and most of them didn’t even know each other, felt even more gross and cheesy and self-congratulatory considering what had just been done to one of the most important women in the series. But hey. We got a shot of a lot of women fighting. Hashtag feminism.

Thor’s ending was okay. Thor’s arc was pretty good. The fat jokes were shit but I loved the idea of Thor still being worthy even when he’s not who he used to be. I nearly came when Cap caught Mjolnir. Conceding New Asgard to Valkyrie was super smart, and I like that he’s going to go figure himself out with the Guardians.

Speaking of, Gamora’s whole story has made me feel gross. As the daughter of an abusive stepfather who also loved me a lot when he wasn’t being a monster, it def made me squirm. But the reality is I don’t give enough of a shit about any of the Guardians to care about what happens to them other than Thor, so. Chris Pratt can eat my entire ass.

The things it got right - pacing an insane amount of action in a way that never stalled, executing a beautifully woven and inlaid sacrifice arc for Tony, Paul Rudd in general - are so much smaller than the things that were just… gapingly terrible.

Did Bruce even get an ending? Did anyone remember what the hell he said he was gonna do? He got lost somewhere in the shuffle and I legit have no idea what his ending was.

Ugh. I need some ibuprofen and a nap. I’m gonna go back to writing my Natasha sex-shop au in which SHE WILL NEVER EVER EVER DIE FOR CLINT’S STORY DEVELOPMENT and wish I still drank.

[tonightinthewasteland]

Journal Entries 3- Casey Loomis aka Preacher

Part 1 Part 2

Jan 1, 2103

I woke up on the second floor of Sweetwater's home with a blinding headache and Nate handing me my glasses. They sat crooked on my face and I realized they were held together by wraps of duct tape. Nate took them back immediately saying he'd fix them a little more. Ignoring my questions about the night before, he readjusted my glasses then offered them back. They fit better that time and when I asked after the night before he busied himself with gathering up things. I resolved to sit in a cloud of fragmented memories.

It took some confused blinking and the lingering taste of bourbon in my teeth to finally remember. When the evening came back to me I smiled and I could tell by the way Nate avoided my eye that he wasn't too proud. He escaped down the stairs before I could say anything and now I'm worried.

 Is he embarrassed? Was I too hasty? I thought it was pretty clear what he had wanted but maybe I got ahead of myself...again. 

If he hadn't wanted to kiss me then what did he want? 

Jan 6, 2103

The awkwardness has pushed Nate away. Now I am back in my old haunts in the eastern forests, trying not to think too much, and spending more time at my C.A.M.P. The garden now has more corn plants and I planted mutfruit bushes beneath the western window. What I wouldn't give for a decent cook station. I’d like to see someone else make a Starlight cobbler on the ground. 

While at the stove at Arronholdt Farm, I heard a commotion behind the center house. Instead of a wild dog, a person came barreling out of the woods! I was so stunned, my fight or flight brain almost shot her in excitement. Yikes! 

She said my name before I could remember hers. It was Siddhi! Ten years my junior but sometimes our cliques' co-mingled at Vault events. I never thought I’d see a familiar face ever again! Too bad Nate isn't around to meet her. I’m beginning to think he could use some more human contact also. His “neighbors” don’t count. I think those stiffs are starting to get to me also because I swear I saw the same mannequins a mile away from my C.A.M.P. 

Keep it together, Casey.

Jan 9, 2103

I'm a fuckin idiot. Complete dumb shit. I would embarrass the Elder if he met me. The Overseer wouldn't even claim me right now. I was heading back to Camp Venture to stow away some technical documents when a Sierra Bravo came out of the trees tops. It was a stroke of luck it didn't see me but who needs Scorched beasts when my dumb ass trips over his own boots? I went down the side the mountain at a full tumble and over the edge. I must have had another life left because instead of landing straight in the mouth of hell I dropped heavy on to a rocky outcropping instead. Dazed and breathless, I couldn't tell what was fucked and what still worked. My bag with all its stimpaks was stuck underneath me and the pain made my limbs worthless. The sky was an ugly cheery blue, the sun was out and all I could think about was how Nate would find me C.A.M.P empty every time he came back.

I don’t know how much time passed but woke up with an achingly dry mouth and no pain. The world was still warm and bright. Looking back, I’m surprised by how easily I accepted that I was dying once the pain went away. Then, a smiling face with eyes as green as spring formed out of the sunshine.

Jan 14, 2103

Nate came back for a while and I am glad for that. He looks me in the face just as any other time. I’ve felt like a spring ready to spit loose. The lingering symptoms of my fall have sore ankles and stiffness when it gets cold at night but I have this persistent nervous energy that has nowhere to go but to my head. The nightmares are bizarre, fluctuating between flashes of sex with, uh, Raiders(?), and monsters tearing me apart. I can’t figure how these things match and I don't want to try. My thoughts have not been right since the fall. Wandering is what my mind needs, I think.

I directed us south towards an especially unwelcoming black spot on the horizon, a town called Welch. There wasn't much left of the Overseer’s ancestral home and the surrounding area has fallen to ashy landslides and heavy gases that made the air uninhabitable. The lingering striker bots, skeletons, picket signs, and long forgotten equipment still sit grimly on my mind. Perhaps it wasn't the best place to wander into. 

It’s sick to see that machinery, the Rockhound, still functioning. Built to outwork humans, it outlived us instead. Watching the beast eat earth borders on cosmic horror. I’m being...too much...I need to lay down. I don’t feel good. 

Jan 18 2103

I uprooted all my plants and used the C.A.M.P to dismantled everything. Fresh start. I moved a few yards farther down the hill to flatter ground near a stout tree. The new home is brighter with more room for growth and much-desired bedroom privacy. Never hurts to be ambitious, I hope.  

Things need changing. A man can only ride stupidity so far before he has to accept it as a flaw and not a silly quirk. Always runny ahead to oogle at the new shiny things, tramping over land mines, waltzing into a ghoul den and Mutant territory...I’m a danger to myself and anyone that's with me. Here I am, changing the interior of my home but not myself. What new disaster will it take to become a man Nate might respect?

There might not be a Joshua loaded down with stimpaks next time. His generosity leaves a ghostly shame. I can’t recall his angelic eyes and genuine kindness without feeling guilty.

 Perhaps my contribution can be as an example to these younger Reclaimers, Siddhi...Joshua...of what voluntary ignorance will get you. 

Joshua belongs to @lamorellenoire6

Nate and Siddhi belong to @avaleon