#Bear with me while I figure out how I want to draw beaks

[velvet-games]

I finally finished the piece for @prince-liest's OC, Tzafael! this really reminded me of how fun character design is (and also that I've completely forgotten how to make digital art, but that's besides the point...) <3

credit to @hogbogglerspirits for the umbrella design! I kind of butchered it so please look at the original and throw lots of love at them

LOTS of notes, draft sketches, brainstorming, etc. below the cut. enjoy!

(note: a lot of what I'm talking about is based on posts prince made under their #tzafael tag, so take a look at those if you haven't yet!)

thanks for joining me below the cut! here's the sketch without the colors as a treat (in case you want to color it yourself or something, idk).

notes about making the digital drawing:

holy shit this took me forever -- I was not kidding about forgetting how to make digital art lmao. I forgot how much less forgiving digital lines are and genuinely lost the spoons to even attempt lineart, hence just a sketch below the colors.

some of you might've seen the original sketch I sent to prince, which the digital version diverges from just a little. it's mostly the halo which I'll explain later, and I finally caved and drew the sixth eye (you can tell I drew and erased it multiple times in the sketch lmao -- still don't know if I prefer it with or without)

here's the original color ref by the lovely @gendermeh! my color scheme ended up looking really different, so some notes about that:

I was looking at references for magpies like this

and I wanted to basically follow that color scheme while also being somewhat similar to the original -- dark head/shoulders --> dark top of the jacket, bright blue wings --> bright blue bottom of the jacket, greenish tailfeathers --> green pants, hints of purple --> purplish sleeve and pant ends

I also tried (and mostly failed, let's be real) to capture the iridescence of the feathers -- they look like oil spilled on the pavement or iridescent hematite to me! I think the key ended up being adding bright greens/purples and roughly blending them into the blues or vice versa but I didn't really figure that out until I got to the pants lol.

I'm gonna be honest; I don't remember why I went with this shape for the tailcoat. I just remember being unhappy with the sketch and then trying a bunch of different shapes that mostly looked worse lol -- I think I landed on this because a split tail kind of looks like wings?

KEPT the shoes -- absolutely magnifique. I wish I knew how to color gold better.

added lots of jewelry! they like shiny things :)

ALSO PLEASE LOOK AND APPLAUD ME. I FINALLY REMEMBERED TO LABEL MY LAYERS!! NO I DON'T REMEMBER WHY THE HALO HAS ITS OWN LAYER.

alright, time for some more design notes/explanations + draft sketches!

but first, a couple disclaimers:

I want to make it very clear that I LOVE everything about the original design. I made a lot of changes based on personal preference/the way I interpreted the character. I was actually planning on making a digital piece that was more faithful to the original design too, but I was just out of spoons for it cause of life stuff.

you probably shouldn't try to read the notes I made in the sketches I'm about to show you unless I say otherwise. most of it is incoherent brain vomit in illegible artist handwriting and I'll transcribe/explain the stuff I think is important :) (the stuff in quotes are direct transcriptions of my notes)

I know my sketches are very messy lol. I only draw for fun, so I usually don't force myself to make stuff any neater than necessary unless it's supposed to be a formal piece. try to bear with me.

1:

my first few sketches of them! (I think?) this was before I sent prince a laundry list of questions so I was still trying to get a vibe

"magpie -- beak lips?" -- you'll see this in a few sketches; I considered giving them the lipstick design that velvette has since it looks like a beak. I still kind of think it's cute, but 1) I'm pretty sure velvette is the only character that has them, so I didn't want to make it seem like they were related somehow and 2) I thought it might be distracting with how much other crazy stuff I ended up including in their head/face

also, sidenote since it's relevant to what I said about vel: something I realized was important is how one character's design relates to the designs of the rest of the cast. I wasn't sure how much I should've gone for what looked good in a vacuum, how much should be based on what other characters looked like canonically, or what other characters would look like if I also designed them. it ended up being mostly the second option, but it was honestly still a struggle. should I take away some of the tumblr-sexyman-ness (no shade to tumblr sexymen; I love them) because there are other characters that already have it? should I relate their design to sera's and emily's in the show or should I think about how I would've designed sera and emily? should I follow some of the design philosophy of the original show and just throw stuff on there because it looks cool (the answer is yes btw)? decisions, decisions ...

I don't think this showed up really well in most of the drawings, but they actually have a black line down their nose! let's take a look at sera:

since they're siblings, I wanted to include some similar facial markings. the nose line ended up being the only thing I kept though -- I was going to include freckles, but I have a compulsive need to give every character giant bottom lashes so there ended up being no room T.T I like that the magpie's hints of purple kind of match hers tho!

the wingification of the hair begins! I was still unsure of it at this point, but it was an idea I had since I was kind of struggling with how straight the feathers were in the original.

"maybe the ones on their head count as wings (so only one main pair)" -- I originally just had the 2 pairs of wings on their head, so I was thinking of just giving them 1 pair on their back so there would be still be 6 total. also this middle drawing of them is meant to be their exorcist outfit (I wanted it to be a cross between what the other exorcists wear and sera's outfit)

at this stage, I was thinking of giving them more magpie-like characteristics, so I looked at some references and tried to emulate them in a more human design. this ended up being really awkward so I scrapped it, but I still like the idea that their exorcist mask looks like a bird (kind of like a plague doctor's)

2:

peekaboo! I love the idea of them using the wing hair to cover their eyes lol. (ended up using that idea for my own seraph OC since that's their biblically accurate purpose: to cover their eyes/faces in reverence/humility -- doesn't really fit with tzafael tho lol, so they show their face most of the time)

an eyeball in the bowtie -- pretty self-explanatory. the eyeball motif is important.

the one in the middle is just me practicing drawing the original design, and the one on the right is another exorcist outfit I think. I wanted to include the diamond motif/points that sera has on her dress (the diamonds on the bottom turn into eyeballs, which is why the final design also has eyeballs on tzafael's sleeves/pants)

3:

lots of notes on the side based on what prince said in response to my ask

"localized omniscience (power of sight) -- cool + ironic that their sight was supposed to serve God but made them see Heaven for what it really is instead"

another exorcist outfit, this time including the feathers

I was also experimenting with the halo; I was trying to make it look sort of like sera's crown, but that didn't feel right ...

some practice with eyes -- my style is pretty flexible with eye shapes, so I try to make them suit the character. I drew lute's eye and also an actual magpie's as references -- lute's because of the exorcist background and also because they looked appropriately sharp, magpie's for obvious reasons. once again, my compulsive need for giant bottom lashes strikes

there was honestly a lot to balance with the eyes -- I wanted them to look condescending/bored (lowered top lid) but also amused (raised bottom lid) and like a magpie (round) but also harsh/mischievous (sharp, maybe slit pupils like a snake) and similar to sera's (but not too decorated -- also does it make sense for them to look like sera's if emily's don't even look like sera's?)

considered having wings on the shoulders -- the magpie pattern is super cool, so it would've been nice to have that somewhere more explicitly in the design. I still think that might fit in an outfit they would wear in heaven (maybe for formal occasions)

the introduction of the sweatervest! honestly I kind of love this for the way it captures more of the preppy, spoiled old-money upper-class vibe some heaven residents have, but it was scrapped since I couldn't imagine them wearing that while trying to scare the denizens of hell. maybe something they wear casually though.

"yes nictating membrane (on every eye!)" -- AHH I'm so sad I didn't end up putting this to use. I just feel like the whole effect is based on actually seeing them blink, and I don't animate lol.

4:

ugh, the nefarious laughter one ... don't worry I tried harder on a sketch later on lol.

"like the diamonds on Sera + Em" + "diamonds turn into eyes?" -- I draw the diamonds on the sweatervest turning into eyes later.

tried an actual bow instead of a bowtie -- very cute but didn't fit the vibe.

a skirt! I think they would wear a skirt sometimes.

5:

"FUCK ASS BOB" -- asghdk the wingification of the hair continues. unfortunately, I'm realizing at this point that the silhouette of the hair is starting to look a lot like alastor's. I gave a very half-hearted attempt at mitigating this, but it goes back to the thing of how much I am obligated to the original show's designs and what looks cool to me -- I think the wing hair fits them and I didn't want to change it because of alastor, plus my alastor design actually has completely different hair anyway. I did add a third pair to the back to look like a ponytail though.

introduction of the scarf! I was actually going to include this in the final design but uh,,, I forgor. are you starting to see a pattern.

the reason for the scarf is that the "tzafael going to places they know they'll draw attention/can incite chaos" reminded me of that scene in avengers where loki walks into a fancy building looking pretentious af and just casually stabs a guy's eye out. not really the same thing but I felt like the vibe matched. hence, loki's funny little scarf fit.

6:

uaoughdfjh it was SO FUN to draw the wing hair, and it was at this point that I realized they had to stay even though I wasn't sure if it was too different from the original.

gossiping with rosie cause that's the first person I thought of -- tzafael also summoned a pearl necklace to clutch because of the sheer drama of it all (your ex-husband did what??)

also started drawing the rings on their hands. magpie like shiny.

7:

lots of notes cause I was trying to compile the things I still needed to think about/incorporate into the final (I thought this was gonna be the last draft ... haha)

trying to include more bird/eye motifs

"fish ... purse?" -- ha! I forgot I was gonna give them a fish purse. I think I drew that in a later sketch, but not them wearing it.

"picked up Hellish traits bc of extended stay -- existential crisis?" -- I asked prince about the sharp teeth, and their answer implied that they became sharp as they stayed in hell longer, which got me thinking ... I feel like that's actually a great body horror concept. lucifer falling and looking like a normal angel at first, eventually waking up to more and more devilish features and feeling more and more like he's lost his home and his past self ... spooky.

another exorcist outfit -- I actually really like the eyes on the ribs! I never made a final draft for the exorcist uniform, but it would probably look close to what I drew here.

the one on the bottom was meant to be similar to the feathered shoulder pad idea, but this time with the whole magpie (with giant eyes). tried putting the "freckles" (really just dots in this case) over their brows, but that ended up looking kinda weird.

the eye is pretty close to the final design

the one on the right was supposed to be the full final design, but I was totally off lol -- the long trench coat really doesn't give off the right vibe at all

8:

playing around more with the loki vibes of the scarf, also added an eyeball to the chest

I never got happy with the design of the back of the coat -- I think it should probably just be blank at this point. but the sketch here is meant to look like wings/tailfeathers.

yet another exorcist outfit, this time with more magpie motifs. I actually like this one a lot, but I probably should've added the eyes on the ribs from the last sketch. I think I also considered giving them actual tailfeathers at this point.

9:

thanks for sticking with me! I promise we're almost done. have a trans dinosaur I saw while I was travelling as a treat <3

10:

this is after I finished the sketch for the final piece and realized I didn't like the halo design. I drew lute's, sera's, em's, and adam's as refs. (honestly I love the show's idea that each person/people of each rank have a different kind of halo -- I wonder if they can switch them out?)

my main inspiration ended up being the exorcist halo, but I made it look more like an eyeball -- since it always points toward heaven, we can say it's always "looking" at heaven.

(also sera's feather lashes! they're so cute)

11:

EVEN MORE EXORCIST DOODLES

12:

tzafael shooing away my fox demon OC

13:

these are actually sketches for my own seraph OC (raguel), but I wanted to include it since it has even more wing/feather hair variations. I also think the idea of the eyelashes being feather-like could've been cool for tzafael.

14:

some more OG design doodles

tzafael and raguel together because self-indulgence is the name of the game babey (also wanted to draw tzafael freaked out with their wings flared)

(raguel's blind btw, hence asking for eyes -- tzafael has so many!)

you can probably read the dialogue here so give it a shot. I believe in you.

15:

you know what? the fish purse deserves some doodles

16:

putting them in Situations! I was reading over prince's posts again and I realized there were some funny things I could draw them doing/saying

again you can probably read the words here

angel dust also loves fish (but is apparently bad at taking care of them, hence the suffocating blobfish), so tzafael shows him their aquarium (complete with live fish and flora ofc)

I thought alastor was 8 ft but apparently he's 7.3 ft? so tzafael is enjoying the .2 ft they have on him

trying and failing again to come up with a design for the back of the jacket lol

THE crowley quote

apparently the halo still sends signals from the exorcists -- thought their reaction to the battle at the hotel would be funny

the nefarious laughter (take 2) that I promised -- based on a doodle of alastor viv did that I found

them being sad and curling up in a pile of shiny things like a dragon

OKAY I'M DONE. huge, huge thank you to prince for sharing their OC! this was a lot of fun and clearly inspired me a lot haha. please check out their writing; it's literally so good that I can't read anything else these days. I am chewing on their thoughts constantly.

this was an absolute monster of a post, so if you're still reading, I am both impressed and bewildered at your patience. I hope you enjoyed! (I certainly did!)

[down-in-duckburg]

I’ve been meaning to draw this for a while now but ducks are hard, man >_>

ANYWAY

600+ followers. I can’t believe it! This blog hasn’t even been open a year, and yet there’s so many duck fans gathering here. I get new followers every day, and I appreciate every single one of you here sharing this fandom with me. Y’all posting, liking, blogging, asking, theorizing, drawing, writing, RPing, EVERYTHING, are what makes being here worthwhile.

Thank you to everyone here so far, and any new followers in the future. You guys are alright ♥

[bluemoonbeam15]

After whatever happened with the bird, Hopper awakes somewhere as a human guy. What will happen now?

Okay, so I was just gonna write out this little drabble but then my brain was like, "WE GOTTA DRAW IT!"

So...here you go XD

My humanized version of Hopper!

This took me so long so I didn't do Flik even though I wanted to. But enjoy this and the fanfiction!

I'm adding Flik in it as well for more plot development.

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"H-Hopper!"

"You think this is over?" The grasshopper stalked toward him, the lightning illuminating his rage. Flik vainly pleaded as Hopper drew closer, eventually trapping him beside the bird's nest. He hoped Hopper wouldn't realize their situation before it was too late. "All your little stunt did was buy them time!" He wrapped his hands around the ant's neck, "I'll be back next season with more grasshoppers...but you won't!"

Just as Flik felt close to collapsing, Hopper's grip loosened when a chirp sounded above them. "Is this another one of your tricks?" he sneered down at the ant.

Flik grinned, "Yep," he choked out.

"Are there a bunch of girls in this one too? Hello girls!" The screech from the bird blew back his antennae. Flik desperately wished he could have drowned out that noise. It would bring him nightmares tonight if he survived this. Hopper screamed and released Flik. The bird jumped before both of them as the grasshopper slipped on the ground to get away.

The ant shrieked when the bird's beak came crashing down just inches away from him. He had to get out fast. The bird straightened a moment and closed in on the two. Flik tried pushing himself off the ground, but Hopper hadn't noticed his form and fell back over him.

"Atta run!" Flik called toward the rock he'd left her behind. The bird's beak slammed down close to them again. Flik was suddenly pulled back just as it tore the ground where he lay. He glanced back to see Hopper scrambling to get up, gripping Flik's arm to pull him up as well. "Let go of me!" He resisted whatever it was the grasshopper was trying to do. Feed him to the bird, most likely.

The bird screeched again and Flik stumbled as Hopper drug him toward the cliff. "What are you doing?" he tried digging his feet in the ground but Hopper was far too strong from build and fear to notice the drag. The bird lifted into the air and sheathed its claws. It grazed against Flik's other arm just as Hopper jumped off the cliff.

Flik screamed when his feet didn't land on anything solid. He looked down at the rising waters, the currents becoming torrent as the wind picked up. At this point, the waters were deep enough to drown both of them. For the first time, Flik was praying Hopper didn't let him go. He grappled the air until he had both arms wrapped around Hopper's, eyes darting between the river and the bird.

It took off in their direction, knocking Hopper off course from its wings. He struggled to keep the both of them airborne while the wind threatened to knock him off balance. Flik felt his grip loosen and he screamed, "Hopper! I'm begging you! Please don't do this!" He was certain the grasshopper was going to drop him into those waters at any moment.

Hopper yanked Flik up by the arms, baring his teeth, "Shut up so I can concentrate!" A drop of water crashed down on his back, causing his wings to falter. The two no sooner went hurtling toward the river, crashing into the waves.

The ant fought to find a sense of direction. Which way was up? Which was down? Where was the bird? Where was Hopper? Something wrapped around his waist, pulling him. Flik screamed. Was he getting pulled to the bottom? He was going to drown! He gasped when air filled his lungs and he blinked the water from his eyes. Flik coughed, whirling his head around to find the bird. It must have flown back to its nest.

Whatever had a hold of him pulled him through the currents until soft sand was felt beneath his feet. He was dropped suddenly onto the ground and the ant tried catching his breath. He held his head in pain, everything still blurred around him. It was then he remembered that Hopper was still around. Hopper couldn't have been the one who rescued him, could he?

Flik turned his head wearily and gasped at the sight. He scrambled back in fear at the monster before him. What was a human doing this far out in the country? The man was coughing, down on his hands and knees as he struggled to regain his bearings. He drug a hand down his face before pausing in the action. He drew his hand back...

It took a few heartbeats before it registered and the man screamed, looking over his body. "W-What happened to me?" Strange, it almost sounded like...

"H...Hopper?" Flik cautiously asked, not daring to move lest the human attack.

The man looked up in response before taking a few steps back from Flik, "You...Y-You're..."

Flik's heart dropped and he hesitated to lift his hand up. His breath quickened as his eyes trailed down his new form, "What's happening?"

"How should I know?" Hopper growled. He looked out over the raging river, "Something happened while we were in that river. Now..." he shuddered as he looked down at his body, "we're...human."

Despite the circumstances, Flik felt anger boiling inside him. The previous events were not lost on him. "What were you thinking? Running off the cliff like that! Are you insane?"

"Hey! I was trying to get us out of there! You and your stupid little girlfriend flew right toward that bird's nest, so don't even blame this on me! You should've been paying attention to where you were going!"

"I knew exactly where I was going!" Flik finally stood with his fists balled. Even as a human, Hopper stood a good foot or two taller than him.

Hopper blinked, reeling back for a second. "You...intentionally flew toward the nest?"

It felt almost like a punch in the gut for Flik. Did...Hopper not realize Flik's plan? Looking at his confused face, it almost seemed like Hopper thought the entire event was an accident. "I...," he lost that rage in him suddenly.

Apparently, it had been given to Hopper. The gras--er...man snarled and stalked closer to Flik, "That was your little idea? Feed me to the bird? What kind of--"

"Now hold on!" Flik had found his voice just moments prior to this freak show, and it was about time he decided to use it. "You're not innocent here! You were going to strangle me! Before that, squish me! I wish you'd gotten eaten by that bird! It's what you deserve after everything you've put this colony through!"

Hopper grabbed Flik by his wrists, coming nose-to-nose with the boy, "Believe me, kid, I could've done worse things to you and your stupid colony," he growled. "The only reason you're still alive right now is because I saved your sorry abdomen."

Flik kept his mouth in a fine line. There were so many things he'd kept pent up over the years that he dreamed of having the guts to say to this brute. Now he found himself struggling to even look him in the eye after he found a backbone. But they had bigger problems than the tension still resting between them, "We need to figure out how to change back," he stated quietly.

The rain was still pouring down heavy, only this time the droplets did no harm to them. Hopper reluctantly let go of Flik's wrist and brushed the wet strands of hair from his face, "I have an idea." Before Flik knew it, he was scooped up in Hopper's arms and flung into the river. The boy spit out the water in a panic before realizing he could now stand in the water.

He whirled on the man, "What the heck?" Flik brushed back his drenched, blond hair.

"Well, so much for that." Hopper deadpanned. "Looks like both of our plans failed."

Flik took his foot and kicked it against the water, splashing Hopper, "You're a real brute, you know that? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

"What? Like that bird, you wanted to feed me to?" Hopper wiped the water from his face angrily. "The only reason we're in this situation is because of you!"

The boy stumbled out of the river, "You were the one who was oppressing us!" Something was unraveling in Flik. All the events that had transpired were fueling this rage he'd kept stuffed deep inside him. Flik began picking up rocks and throwing them at Hopper, "Every...single...year...we had to go on the brink of starvation! All because you and your greedy hoard of grasshoppers couldn't do it yourselves! A bunch of lazy...good for nothing--!" Hopper twisted the boy's arms behind him, pinning Flik against him, "Let go of me!"

"You don't think we tried getting food for ourselves? How easy do you think it is to harvest in the middle of the desert?"

Flik slammed his foot down on Hopper's causing the man to growl and push the boy to the ground. "Then go live somewhere else!" He struggled as Hopper loomed over him, pinning Flik's arms to the ground.

"There are predators everywhere else! The only place bigger bugs can survive is in the middle of nowhere! In places too dead for anything bigger than us to live! We risked our lives coming here to collect that offering!"

"Well, congratulations, you're such a hero!" Flik snapped back. "I'm sorry you're just a big coward who pushes around anyone weaker than you, just to make yourself feel better!"

With only two arms now, Hopper found strangling the kid more difficult since he was trying to keep him pinned down. "Says the one who was going to let a bird do all his dirty work of killing me off!" Hopper pulled the boy to his feet, keeping his arms pinned behind him. He forced him toward the water, "I oughta drown you right now," he pushed Flik down on his knees toward the water.

"Stop!" he strained against Hopper, "We have to find a way back! I know you don't plan on figuring it out yourself!"

Hopper let go of Flik's head, contemplating his actions. "And who says I need your help?"

"B-Because we have no idea what will happen to us now if we stay like this." He craned his neck to look up at the man, "You really want to risk being out here alone? Humans are monsters, Hopper, you know that. They kill each other all the time. You might end up finding one who can pin you down."

As much as the thought of being subdued angered him, Hopper bit down on his growl. "Fine," he released the boy with a shove and walked back along the shore. "So what's your plan now, genius?"

Flik couldn't believe he was considering teaming up with this guy. Death sounded almost promising as he watched Hopper scrutinize him. "Let's go find Ant Island. It can't be too far from here."

"And do what? Squish them?" Hopper sneered.

Flik took that comment more seriously than Hopper intended it. He rounded on the man, "If you even think about killing them--"

"Relax, kid, learn to take a joke once in a while," he flicked the side of the boy's head. Walking past him, "Let's go find the island, then."

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This was actually really fun to write! I hope it was what you were expecting, Anon. I kinda didn't know where to go with the idea so I just expanded upon a plot already given in the movie. Sorta like another 'What If' scenario.

[rosicae]

Writing tip or something - planning scenes

Writing difficult scenes is always a struggle. Here are some tips to make the process a little easier, and more importantly, actually get something done instead of staring at a blank page for two months (guilty).

First, let's start where you left off. Maybe they're exploring the dark woods trying to find their lost cat and they come across a beast. Great! Battle scene time.

The first thing you need to ask yourself is what you'll get out of this battle. The main points, or plot-twists, if there are any. For example: Maybe the cat turned into the beast and they only realise as it lies dying; maybe one of the main characters die; maybe they find a key in the beast's skull; maybe they spare the beast and it becomes their friend; maybe the beast just dies and that's it. I'm not judging, there's a plethora of reasons you'd do anything in stories. Most scenes should have some sort of lead, whether it be key or death or kiss or whatever, depending on what sort of story you're cooking, but it's up to you.

So, figure out your main point. For simplicity's sake, I'll go with: “They kill the beast, they find a key”. Finding the key will be a clear lead to their next move. But for now, let's focus on the current scene.

You're going to want to order the events. Writing scenes like this off the bat can be pretty hard, so let's just go with what we know first.

I'm not joking when I say a lot of my scenes start out sort of like this.

Now, to build upon this beauty, we have to dig into each segment. Let's start with part A!

PART A - “Rosi encounters a beast.”

What sort of beast is it? A slimy tentacle monster? A catfish-pirate? A deformed bear? Dracula?? Your decision will affect the entire scene, so really think about what you choose. Monsters are super fun, so be creative if your story allows it! I'll pick a duck-faced bear spider hybrid. What does that do? It might help to draw your monster if it's a struggle to think it through. Here's mine!

As you think about their appearance, see how you can use it to their advantage or flaw. You might even already have ideas for certain moves during their fight, or what could be the fatal blow. We'll talk more on that later though.

Next on Part A, how did she encounter it? Was she up in the trees trying to check the sun's direction when suddenly it barreled into her and threw her down the tree? Did she trip over a log only to realise it wasn't a log but an angry treant? Is the forest cursed and monsters just keep chasing after her for no reason??? Maybe she's holding a tracker and the evil villain is sending the monsters after her.... it's good to think about, in the long run. For now though, let's just stick with: "she bumped into the beast"

But try to make it fancy. What was her reaction to bumping into it? Why would she bump into it? Maybe she wasn't looking while she was running and kept bumping into trees, but then one tree was actually the monster. The monster is clearly very fluffy (would probably make a good blanket), so let's make that a clear point.

So now we've got:

“Rosi was running along the forest without properly watching where she was going, when she bumped into a tree - but it was fluffy and warm and beating, not a tree. It was a bear duck spider beast. OOOO! SLAP SLAP!”

Slap slap being “the beast slapped her in her confused daze”, because who wouldn't be surprised if a tree was actually a duck-bear hybrid? This happens to be a perfect initiation to begin battling! On to part B!

PART B - “She fights the beast and kills it.”

This is absolutely the hardest part. It'll take careful consideration and pacing and- oh whatever let's just slap in every action thing we can think of. Even if you think it isn't good, even if it's just little phrases or actions or fancy words or teeny tiny segments you aren't sure about, it's good. Just do it.

-beast slaps her in her confusion/daze and she hits her back against a tree, much pain

-beast snaps its flappy duck beak and honks a bunch, muddling her brain

-rosi throws rocks at it

-rosi somehow breaks off its spider legs, unbalancing it

-beast uses its spider legs to crawl everywhere and be very agile and hard to fend off

-beast stabs her with its stabby legs

-maybe an injury from being slapped around

-rosi tries to run but it's always there

-rosi smacks its beak, very annoyed

-beast forces her to the dirt and pummels her with its stabby paws

-rosi evades its stabbies because the green drippy stuff looks like venom

-venom touches nature stuff and makes it wither

-beast lets out a bellow that shakes the earth and topples trees

-rosi avoids the trees to not die

-rosi scrambles to get up

-the most important thing is to somehow open its skull: plunge a verrryyy strong stick through its eye that tears out the key; or somehow trick it to stab itself with its venom spider legs and it withers and turns to bone/ashes and yay key (I like the second one so I'll go with that, but it's always good to list out your options!)

So I basically just took parts of the forest and parts of the beast's body and natural instincts of someone who is facing death and, adding some creativity, threw together a bunch of possibilites. It might take some practice, but once you're in the flow and have some experience listing this stuff, you'll get the hang of it in no time. Thoughts tend to be short and snappy in quick-paced scenes, so be careful not to go into a whole monologue about their past experiences, but absolutely show some reasoning to the complex things they do if necessary. And leave the monologing for when they're not being killed.

Now let's order them into something that sort of makes sense. It varies depending on what you want, so see if you can make your own unique battle scene out of this list!

-beast slaps her in her confusion/daze and she hits her back against a tree, much pain

-rosi scrambles to get up

-maybe an injury from being slapped around (tree + back + sudden slap = pain, this might be a good time to mention if they already have a flaw like having weak bones or an old injury, but if it isn't your intention to incapacitate them and you want to be realistic, have a reason for them not to insta-die without being op. Maybe she was just slapped into bushes and got little scrapes or a twisted ankle. Maybe she had a plushy backpack that took most of the impact. Remember where your character gets injured too, since pain usually hurts for a while and it's good to add that in wherever needed now and later. It can even drive the story along at times, like a life-threatening blow.)

-beast lets out a bellow that shakes the earth and topples trees

-rosi avoids the trees to not die

-rosi tries to run but it's always there

-beast uses its spider legs to crawl everywhere and be very agile and hard to fend off

-venom touches nature stuff and makes it wither (she notices here and thinks oh no, that is bad, can't let that touch me)

-rosi throws rocks at it (misses because it's agile)

-beast forces her to the dirt and pummels her with its stabby paws

-beast snaps its flappy duck beak and honks a bunch, muddling her brain

-rosi smacks its beak, very annoyed

-beast stabs her with its stabby legs (or tries, let's not kill her just yet if we're deciding on venom QwQ Maybe she uses a plank of wood to save herself last second)

-rosi evades its stabbies because the green drippy stuff looks like venom

X-rosi somehow breaks off its spider legs, unbalancing it (delete because the lower idea is better, but maybe earlier one of the rocks she threw can unbalance it a bit and it jumps on her to attack closer because it feels threatened)

-rosi somehow tricks it to stab itself with its venom spider legs and it withers and turns to bone/ashes and yay key (she tricks it by deflecting it with something strong, like a boulder behind her, she got out of the way just as it does a slash at her, and it bounces perfectly into itself

And just like that, ordering and expanding on every part, you've got yourself an entire fight! Obviously it isn't as easy as counting to ten and opening a pot to a finished piece, but if you just take ten minutes or, better yet, an hour, you'll get somewhere. All you need is the base.

PART C - “She finds a key in its skull.”

Keys are shiny, and if it's daytime, maybe some light can twinkle off it as it falls, or she could just notice it because who wouldn't notice a key trapped in bones? Either way, she picks it up, as you do (unless you want an eagle to swoop in and take it, in which case rosi will have to chase after it and climb a tree and try to take it back from its nest and blahdy blah but rosi doesn't feel like moving anymore after the fight, so let's go with the easier option for now). She might have to wrench it out of bones, but it's fine, she's already dirty from the battle.

So what's the key look like, hmm? Is it rusty and old, or fleshy but firm and warm as suited for being trapped in brains for so long? Or oozing in the same venom, and she has to wipe it off with special fabric only trolls deeper in the forest are capable of making, or throw it in a lake to purify it? Maybe it's short, or missing half that you have to find somewhere along the journey. What does it unlock? Rosi won't know now, obviously, but you'd better have an idea or there'd be no point to it in the first place. Maybe this entire journey is in her mind and she's finding parts of a key to unlock her memory which will be a door to her childhood house. Maybe it's a master key to the villain's castle. Maybe it was accidentally baked in a cookie the beast ordered from a special fish-headed-cat-run bakery, and the little workers will be scrambling around to find the key and be so grateful that rosi brings it back that they hail her as king of fish-headed cats. You never know :D...except you kinda have to, so please have some sort of idea even if it's small.

That's practically all you can do in this part, so next we're on-

PART D - “She questions the key, then goes off to seek reason for it.”

Assuming she collects the key, what are her thoughts? It's all down to personality. Let's say rosi loves keys, and she has a whole collection at home, and she loves shiny things. She'll probably squee at the sight of it and act very excited - "she snatched up the key and chirruped her glee (oh hey, that rhymes!), and after a quick inspection with gleaming eyes, she tucked it safely in her pocket alongside trinkets from the seaside."

Because, you know, obviously she was at the seaside before all this. Or whatever else she was doing. It's your call. It's their personality. It's an optional connection, but a valid one nevertheless. Careful though - if she carries too much, she might get weighed down and drown.

In her case, she doesn't really think too hard on the key. Maybe she's already fought plenty of monsters and gotten a nice treasure trove of stuff. Maybe she's an air-head. Cough. Either way, the obstacle is gone so now she can go off and do what she was doing before - albeit a little more cautious, provided she learns from experience. If there's a clear indicator of what the key is for, or if the character was actively seeking it out, that'll obviously give a different outcome - maybe they'll turn back the way they came (car keys), or head for the town of blue oak (blue key) if that is already in their knowledge database, or ask the next person they see and get guided or tricked.

Finally, let's put this baby together! Let's start simple for now and just slap together this monstrosity with whatever little stuff we think of in the moment and some proper tense. We can build it up later (not here lol I've spent too much on this but you can if you want).

~~Rosi's Magical Adventure~~

Rosi ran along the forest without properly watching where she was going, when she bumped into a tree – but it was fluffy and warm and beating, not a tree. It was a bear duck spider beast.

Fish. That definitely shouldn't exit.

The beast slapped her in her daze and her back slammed against a tree. Despite being in pain, she scrambled to get up. She staggered, feeling the pierce in her ribs, the ache in her feet, the scream in her head that told her to run. It was drowned out under the beast's bellow. The earth shook and trees toppled one after another. Rosi spun on her heel and ran, avoiding the trees that twisted her path.

Even when she thought she outran it, it was always a step behind, a step above, a step ahead. Its spindly legs granted it an agility she couldn't imagine matching. Not only that – wherever the ends of those legs touched, an iridescent liquid spurted out, withering blooming manes and wilting once-proud trunks in an instant.

She shivered. She couldn't let it touch her. Realising that her (flee, running, escaping – whenever you can't think of the right words in the moment, just think of whatever is the closest and use that until you find the right word, or you might waste an hour racking your brains when you could just keep writing) was futile, she pounced into a rolling stop by a mound of rocks. It disoriented the beast for but a moment as she scooped a handful of rocks and hurled them at it. Most missed, or melted into its ragged coat, but a few landed directly against its uppermost legs. It gave an unnerved honk and flung itself at her, forcing her to the dirt, pummeling her with monstrous paws and claws that snapped her skin as she raised her hands to defend her face.

It honked. She grimaced. Her vision blurred and brain muddled with every honk. On impulse, one hand shot out to smack its flapping beak. Its pupils contorted, enraged by her sacrilege, and its spindle-legs shot towards her.

Just in time, she rolled free and pulled herself up, evading the blows that scattered poison over melting green. One hit went into a boulder. The boulder didn't budge. It was ineffective. It sparked an idea in Rosi, but she wasn't sure, so she waited until it happened again, and again it hit a boulder and bounced without damaging the boulder. She danced her way around the clearing, then stopped directly in front of boulder, facing the beast with her lips twisted into a wry smile.

The stabby leg slashed her way, but she ducked out of the way at the last second. Unable to redirect its blow, the leg bounced off the boulder and went directly into the beast's skull. The venom was quick to engulf the beast. Its skin vanished like the trees. It was only (bones, skeletal structure remained) and it fell before her. (If you still aren't sure how to write a part, break it down even further, even if it looks stupid. Keep breaking down everything as much as you need, until everything is plain to see and there are no misunderstandings. Then add on, and keep adding on, until you eventually understand.)

Streams of sunlight (because a lot of the trees died, so now there's some light in the forest) glinted off a surface lodged in the bones. Realising the rusty old metal to be a key, she snatched it up and chirruped her glee, and after a quick inspection with gleaming eyes, she tucked it safely in her pocket alongside trinkets from the seaside. Then she turned and limped her way back home, wondering why she came in the first place as blood trailed after her.

~~The End~~

It isn't perfect – far from it – but it doesn't matter. It's a start. You can work with it. You can keep going. Finish the chapter by repeating this process over and over, then go back and polish it when you've let the experience sink in a bit. Who knows where you'll go??? (ﾟヮﾟ)/

I spent almost three hours on this instead of writing my own book, and I'm tired, so I don't know if this makes sense, but I hope it's helpful a little??? I tried not to make it complex as much as possible so people of many levels can understand and hopefully get something out of it;;;

It's the method I've been using for a long time, especially when I'm in a difficult part or just can't get myself to write anything. Start simple, get something done, and keep going.

….....which I realise is the complete opposite of what I'm doing. Oh gosh what have I done OAAAAAO

….also this is really long and I'm scared so I'm not even going to hard read it over or edit now that I'm done writing.

ROSI OUT

[thesilkenlair]

(Casey Here!)

As much D&D as I play, you'd imagine I would eventually get around to illustrating some of their most iconic monsters! Which is to say, the ones that I personally find the most iconic. Which is to say, the ones I memorized when I was reading my dad's monster manual at age nine. Purple worm - Sandworms never go out of style. I've seen a lot of rad designs for this bugger over the editions, but I favor the slightly less reptilian older takes for this particular critter. It's kinda basic, but sometimes that's what you want. It's like a shark or a crocodile: Just flat out unchanged across the ages. Hook horror - I've heard it rumored that Gygax used a small Gigan figure to represent this monster. I can't verify that, but it definitely sounds right. Hook horrors are one of the very first things you meet when you play around in the caves, and they kind of remind me of the Father Deep monsters of the Hork Bajir homeworld that way. Mind flayer - Mind flayers! Basically, take all of your Dracula conventions and dip them in a fresh coat of Lovecraft. There's that old "decadent aristocratic upper caste system who literally eats the poor, but still somehow comes across as less evil than the actual real life 1%" setup that will never stop being relevant. Though personally, I see mind flayers as the first alternative for folks who want to play that monster-who-feels-the-urge-to-eat-their-friends-but-refuses-to-do-it shtick but don't want to deal with vampire baggage. You know, the furry option! ... Slimy? Rubbery? Do we have a word for anthro-cephalopods? I'm only a casual furry. Gelatinous cube - I'm not apologizing for giving this one a slot. Froghemoth - So, back when I participated in my very first long-term campaign, I played a druid. You've met Talia before. Naturally, I was chomping at the bit for the day I finally got to turn her into a froghemoth, and celebrated the day my wish was finally granted and she was allowed to chug human-supremacist-cultists like popcorn. Yeah, okay, the froghemoth is one of the classic vore-monsters. But it's a charming design in its own right. Kind of a freaky Hanna Barbara critter, like you'd see Space Ghost fighting. No matter how many artists draw it, they can never shake that inherent goofiness that third edition tried so hard to purge. I would probably cram them somewhere onto Fronterra if I was sure they were public domain. As is, I'm 99% certain that this is what Visser Three turned into when he ate Elfangor. Tarrasque - D&D's original kaiju! Kind of just takes the name and nothing else when it comes to its mythological origins, but I don't mind. The Tarrasque is that endgame "let's test the players" final boss monster... Or at least it's supposed to be. My DM reskinned it for our final Pathfinder session, and one of the PCs still nearly killed it in a single turn. Also, he let Talia turn into one, so maybe Pathfinder is just bullshit? Regardless, the Tarrasque has one of those simple, iconic designs. I've heard rumors it was based on the concept art for Fallout's deathclaws, and like the Gigan-figure, I can't verify this in any way. With its reptilian features, twin horns, spiny carapace and grabby fingies, it has an undeniable lizardlike quality that I can't help but find charming. Kinda feels like a more refined version of Zilla? Though for an insatiable eating machine, I notice a lot of artists give it very little belly to work with. Come on, this guy eats entire cities! Give him somewhere to put it! Rust monster - An icon of icons, the rust monster! Drawing its origin from a bizarre Chinese "dinosaur" toy, later designs have made it more insectoid in appearance, but never feeling QUITE like anything Earthly. It's the four limbs. Between the four limbs and the tail, it's hard to tell if it's an arthropod mimicking a vertebrate or the other way around. I'm pretty sure this is part of what inspired my ossaderm creatures for Fronterra. Also, Ryla can turn into one in our campaign. I have no shortage of havoc to wreak when the opportunity comes. Behir - Dragons in D&D are kind of... extra. Godlike beings, paragons of whatever personality trait they represent. Whenever there's something uber powerful in D&D, it gets compared to dragons. It makes them kind of unapproachable. Behirs provide all the essentials of a dragon - Serpentine body, scaly skin, horns, sapience, breath weapon, taste for human flesh - wrapped up in a smaller, weirder, IMO cooler package. You know, your Lambton Worms. A lot easier to port in and out of adventures, a lot less of an event when they show up, but still a formidable force in their own right. I like the behir. The behir knows how to taunt me just the right amount. Bulette - Another Chinese "dinosaur" figure monster, the bulette is actually another one I associate with Talia. Whenever we faced a problem that didn't have a glaringly and immediately obvious solution, she would turn into a bulette, whether it was for beating up robots, digging through obstacles, trampling smurfs, navigating labyrinths, distracting slashers with cute dog tricks... it was kind of her signature form. But shenanigans aside, the bulette is just an excellent monster. While the "land shark" shtick may be common, there's a lot more going on with the bulette's design. It's rumored to be a mad wizard's creation, as he combined a snapping turtle with an armadillo and mixed in a helping of demon blood to taste. Personally, I always considered that to be a neat little rumor to flesh out the world, but never assumed it to be true. The bulette just feels too naturalistic for that. Like some kind of protomammal or crocodylomorph, or weird triassic monstrosity. Magic and demons and dragons and so on DO affect the ecosystem. I always figured the bulette was just something that evolved to compete in this new biosphere. Owlbear - This one, on the other hand, I fully believe the "mad wizard was bored" explanation. Another chinasaur critter, the owlbear is frequently made fun of. What makes it scarier than a regular bear? It can't fly, so why have owl parts at all? Why trade fangs for a beak in what is at best a latural move? Well, first of all, fuck you, owls are creepy motherfuckers, and that alone is enough to justify it. But secondly, that's part of its charm. Besides some improved vision, the owl DOESN'T make it more dangerous. What makes the owlbear dangerous is that it's an insane, Frankensteinian monstrosity roaming uncontrolled through the wilderness! It doesn't need weaponry, its sheer temperament is enough to make it a worthy opponent. Sure, the practical threat might not be hugely above that of a bear, but storytelling isn't about numbers. Any asshole can go outside and get eaten by a bear. The owlbear is part of this world. The owlbear is a reminder of what magic can do. Someone somewhere actually made this thing, for whatever reason, and now the world is irrevocably changed because of it. Owlbears go beyond practicality. They bring the lore! Also, bears don't have very good eyesight, so the big owl eyes probably make them better hunters. Flumph - Is that a Japanese-style martian? Do we just have aliens in D&D? Dear lord, I love them! Okay, the flumph has got a sizable hatedom. And that hatedom can eat my ass, because the flumph is precious and perfect just the way it is! Flumphs are designed as a sort of sidekick-type creature. They're not very good fighters, but they bring knowledge and lore to the table. Whether they're aliens from some far off star, seeking your aid to prevent catastrophe, or psionic natives of the Underdark eager to bask in your positivity and hopefully stick it to the tyrants they're forced to share real estate with. My group generally treats them as straight up aliens, benevolent but strange. Course, we're all pretty strange, so we get along just fine. Otyugh - Okay so, the aberration creature type implies that this is something from another world that doesn't belong. And yet otyughs, which are aberrations, are an essential part of this world's ecosystem? Okay, I can buy the idea that an alien organism adapted to our world and is now a key part of it. Fronterra's got a TON of that. It just feels like after a point, the otyugh would be considered a beast? Otyughs are great. Every ecosystem needs a decomposer, and every fantasy story needs at least one dive into the sewers. Otyughs provide both, and are intelligent enough to keep the plot moving if it hits a snag. There's always going to be garbage, refuse, carrion, decay, things that need to be broken down and processed. Carrion crawler - The carrion crawler is pretty similar to the otyugh in that it's technically not considered a beast, and therefor must have its origins elsewhere, but feels so integrated into the ecosystem that it just feels like it belongs. They usually can't talk, so they're not just reskinned otyughs, but I still consider them pretty essential. Otyughs find a singular spot where waste is dumped and shovel it down at their leisure, while carrion crawlers skulk through the tunnels, actively seeking their food. The crawler got one of the most radical redesigns on the transition from second to third edition, but I can't really choose a single favorite. The oldschool tentacle-faced cutworm looks like it could be a real animal, while the googly-eyed Halloween decoration feels like it could be from another world, merely having set up shop here. Could there name apply to two wholly different creatures? If so, then I'm not sure which one mine would be considered. I kinda mashed them together into something that doesn't quite feel like either. But I like it for what it is. Maybe I'll sneak it onto Fronterra. Aboleth - Tentacled, telepathic sea creatures who turn humans into slimy minions, who remember everything their race has ever seen, and who are always plotting something behind the scenes. Yeah, the aboleths really crank up the Lovecraft elements. Actually, between the mind flayers, the flumphs and the aboleths, even the most oldschool D&D covered quite a few essential Lovecraftian bases. The flayers are your corrupt yet still recognizable humanoids who can be considered truly evil, the flumphs are benevolent-yet-bizarre guardians who know more than you, and the aboleths are the truly unknowable, sinister intellects. The fact that they can barely function on land honestly only adds to that, IMO. They're inherently difficult for a party to reach, and they offer some nice underwater adventure seeds. Not enough adventures go underwater. There's this perception that the ocean is bad for storytelling because so many writers lack the creativity to make it work. I wanna run an underwater adventure now. Beholder - Icon of icons! THE D&D monster! The beholder! Paranoid, jumpy, always five steps ahead and twenty steps perpendicular! Beholds are fun in just about every way. Between their wacky, diverse designs, their elaborate lairs, their eccentric personalities, their bizarre powers, you're never gonna run out of fun with beholders. Remorhaz - It's always been a thing that bothered me with environment-based monsters. Why does the ice monster who lives in the cold use ice as a weapon? Aren't most of the things it encounters going to be resistant to the cold? Sure, a cone of cold will still kill a polar bear, but a lot of the monsters in the tundra are outright immune to cold. A while dragon's not going to get much use out of its breath weapon fighting frost worms and frost giants. That's one reason the remorhaz sticks out to be. We have an icy tundra beast whose insides are a scorching furnace, which it can intensify and weaponize as it sees fit. Which also conveniently explains why its design - a sort of cobra-esque centipede - invokes warm-weather creatures, despite its icy environment. It's a nice subversion of the usual tropes, plus it's just a memorable, cool looking critter to begin with. On a smaller note, the remorhaz feels like a good loophole for Ryla's "no cold weather morphs" rule. Turning into something elementally affiliated with ice is no good, but a non-magical monster that survives the cold by superheating its insides? That seems perfectly viable to me!

[yandere-ac]

Yandere Pierce because I'm love him

Yandere Pierce X Reader

Just a heads up. This gets kinda dark towards the end (mainly murder) so if you’re sensitive to this stuff this probably ain’t the fic for you. The next once gonna be a lot less heavy but I just wanted to try some new subjects. If you guys don’t want the more mature subjects on this blog make sure to tell me. But anyways, here it is.

Growing up, Pierce had always felt a sense of entitlement. He wasn’t exactly spoiled, per say. His parents always beloved in working for what you wanted, and he did as well. He was very proud of all the muscle that he’d manage to build up during the past years since he started working out. He knew that the way for a well built body was long and hard but he knew that he was making improvements. See, he it wasn’t those things he felt entitled over. No, the things he would feel entitlement over would usually be people. Or, better put, peoples friendship. He would see or hear about someone and think “wow, I wanna be friends with them” and then go to introduce himself. Because of his (somewhat) charming nature, it was easy to make Friedan and he’d never gotten rejected. But, you could argue that it was bad that he’d never gotten rejected, because now he thinks that he’s owed peoples affections even when he really doesn’t. But there had always been one person that he quite couldn’t put his finger on.

And that person was you.

When he first moved onto the island, you hadn’t really made any attempt to befriend him at first, which he though was a bit rude but he ignored it, instead he made the first move and started talking to you. You two quickly became friends, since you and him and another resident where currently the only ones living on the island. And you were talking on a day to day basis. Sometimes he would trail behind you when you were walking around the island. If you went into the nooks cranny or ables sisters shop he would wait a few minutes and walk in himself, being very sneaky just to find an excuse to bump into you and have yet another conversation.

Sooner or later he would discover small factors like how whenever he was around you, he could feel his heart bump faster. Whenever he heard your laugh, he could feel his stomach fill with butterflies. If you ever said his name, his cheeks would turn red. It had been obvious to him that he had fallen in love with you. And it hadn’t been some small crush, he had fallen and he had fallen HARD. He thought of you, every second of everyday. He had fantasied about you two together, you would move in with him and you would have a pet sea-bass. After a while he would pop the question and you would accept happily. You would get married and start a family together. Oh how he wanted you. But of course you wanted him as well, I mean, how could you not? He was perfect in every single way. And you would soon be perfect together, he just had to find the perfect moment to confess to you.

It was a usual day, the sky was grey and riddled with dark clouds. You had just sold your turnips to Timmy and Tommy for a good amount of bells. You smirked as you looked down at the bags in your arms, you were so happy that you didn’t see where you were going, or who was standing in front of you. You bumped into the tall figure, losing your balance, Vella flying everywhere. You squinted, waiting for the impact of the hard ground. But before you could fall to the ground you felt something wrap around your wrist, effectively hindering you from falling. In a quick movement, they yanked you towards them and you felt your body collide with theirs. After a few seconds, once you got your bearings, you backed away.

“Oh, thanks. I didn’t se-“ you stopped in the middle of your sentence as you saw who had saved you. “Oh...hello Pierce...” you said, stomach instantly filling with bricks. Ever since he moved to the island he had been acting weird. And even if you were a little bit ashamed over it, you had avoided him when he first moved in. It was just something about him that had rubbed you the wrong way. But then he started talking to you every single day, and I mean every single day. Sometimes you would see him walking around you, acting very inconspicuous. At first you though it was just a coincidence but soon you would find that wherever you went, he was always slightly behind you. And it creeped you out! You had thought about going to Isabelle but you never where quite sure if it was stalking or if for some reason it was just a spooky coincidence. You didn’t want to accuse an innocent person of stalking you, especially if he did only want to be friends. However, where you did draw the line was the time you found him outside of your house. It had been one thing to see him following you around the island at daytime, but that was a whole other thing.

You remembered it clearly, the horror you felt. It had been late at night when you had woken up from strange noises outside. You tried to brush it off as nothing since it could be literally anything. But after a while you just couldn’t ignore it. You went up, trying to distract yourself by eating something. Going to your kitchen, you had started eating an apple when you thought you saw something out of your window. You had decided to investigate, a sense of curiosity awakening in you. As you went outside you heard rapid footsteps running from your house. You ran to see who it was, and to your horror you saw him. It was Pierce, or, Pierces back, running away. You were sure it was him. And you ran straight to Isabelle that night, banging on her door, begging to be let in. After a long conversation with her, she told you that she would talk to him. And for a while, it did seem like Pierce had backed off. But now it seemed like he was back with his shenanigans.

“What’s up Y/N? Were you in a hurry?” He had asked you, this was you chance. Quickly picking up all of your bell bags you turned to him in a hasty fashion. “Oh yeah, I really gotta go! Important stuff to do! But- uh, I’ll talk to you later man” you had tried to rush past him but he had grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Damn it. “Don’t worry, this’ll only take a minute” he turned to you and grabbed your hands, making you cringe slightly. “Y/N, ever since I moved in here, I had my eye on you. You were just so special and different y’know. And I for so long you had made me feel things I had never felt” Pierce exclaimed, letting out a loving sigh. “...okay...” you didn’t like where this was going. “Everyday that I talked to you, I would always think about the interaction hours later, wondering what you made me feel. But then I realized it Y/N! That feeling! I know now what it is. So let me just make this super clear. Y/N, i have feelings for you! I wanna start a life with you!” Pierce exclaimed as he had a big goofy smile on his beak.

“WHAT?!” You yelled as you felt your entire body jolt back. Rest assured, Pierces grip on your hands remained. “Pierce I-I-do-wha-“ you couldn’t form any words at the moment, looking at Pierce his smile was gone and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite place, but your entire body screamed at you to run. “Pierce...I...I don’t....I just though we were friends...I’m sorry but...I can’t accept your feelings” once you said this you could feel his grip getting tighter. His eyes weren’t even looking at you, he was staring off into the distance. And that only terrified you further. By now, the grey clouds had turned darker and it had started raining. “I’m sorry, I hope you can respect my choice...I really have to go now, bye” with all of your might you snatched your hands away from him and ran as fast as you could. You ran towards one of your other residents home, Zucker. He was your close friend and you really didn’t want to be alone right now.

Meanwhile, Pierce just sat there. Unmoving. He couldn’t believe it, friends? Friends?! Is that all he was to you?! No! He wouldn’t accept this! You are his! He would make sure you were! Weather you liked it or not, he was gonna have you.

“Oh my god really?! He grabbed you!?” Zucker had asked, concern bracing his features. You had told him everything and he was quick to comfort and listen. “Yeah, he has honestly creeped me out so much these past weeks” you told him, putting your head in your hands. “You should really take this up with Isabelle. If you want, I could follow you there?” Zucker had offered, you smiled at him as he said this. “Thank you Zucker, I would love that”

You and Zucker were walking to the community Center, talking to each other. It all seemed to be fine and well until Zucker was tacked and pinned to the ground by a sharp pair of talons. You gasped as you turned to look at the culprit, Pierce. Standing above Zucker, growling as he looked at you. “Oh, so this is how it’s gonna go hmm? I confess my feeling for you, only to have you go out with some LAZY filthbag?!” Pierce had shouted at you, he had always disliked Zucker due to both of their different lifestyles. But never had you though that he would do something like this. “Pierce! No! Please don’t hurt him!” You cried out, but Pierce didn’t care. In one fell swoop, he had clawed into Zuckers stomach. “NO!!!” You yelled and fell to the floor.

“What is happening over he-“ you heard a voice say before it was cut off by a scream. Tom and Isabelle had gone out to see what was happening only to discover the gruesome sight. “RUN!!!” You had tried to warm them but soon enough Pierce had latched himself onto them as well. Now was the part where you ran. You ran as far as your legs could carry you. But you knew that it was hopeless. Where were you gonna run? You were stranded on an island! It wasn’t like you could grow wings and fl-DODO AIRLINES!!!

You ran towards the dock, almost tripping on your own two legs as you collapsed onto Orvilles desk. “ORVILLE! QUICKLY WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! PIERCE HAS GONE ON A KILLING SPRE-“ “Oh Y/N~” Shit. “Where are you my sweet?” You heard the madman call out. Soon, he went into the building. He was covered in blood, and had a love crazed look in his eyes. “Ah! There you are” he approached you and Orville. “St-Stay back! I’m warning you!” Orville had yelled back, but it was no use. “Stay back or what? Orville, between us birds, I don’t wanna milk you. So let’s make a deal alright? You and your brother leave, and NEVER come back. And I won’t kill you. That doesn’t sound so bad now, does it? You’re not strong enough to fend me off and you know that Orville, so let’s just cut the crap and make this easy” Pierce had said. You turned to look at Orville, praying that he doesn’t leave you alone with this murderer. But Orvilles eyes said it all, he was considering it.

Giving you a look of pity and mouthing the words “sorry”, he turned to Pierce. “Okay, I’ll do it, we’ll leave the island. Just...please don’t hurt her” As Orville said this, you felt the entire weight of the world crushing you. “N...no, no, no! NO! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME ALONE WITH HIM ORVILLE! PLEASE!” You felt yourself get grabbed and lifted off the ground, you began struggling and fighting back as hard as you could but in the end it was hopeless. Pierce was much stronger than you and you couldn’t escape from him. You saw Orville leave, and with that, your last smidge of hope.

Pierce was now carrying you out of the Dodo airline, holding you bridal style. You laid unmoving in his wings, you knew that you couldn’t do anything about it, this was your fate. You were destined to be stuck with this insane bird all alone on a deserted island. But unlike you, Pierce had never felt happier. Sure, he’d lost control and went overboard a little bit. But it was worth it! Now he had you! His little Hawkeye, he deserved this. He deserved you!

And all the other scum who tried to separate you two deserved what they got.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): Before His Birth, His Birth and His Childhood

The Dream of Abdulmuttalib

Years passed.

The noor (holy light) belonging to the Holy Prophet (PBUH) that shone on Abdulmuttalib’s forehead brought him to the station of Quraysh’s chieftainship.

It was a hot summer’s day…

He was sleeping by the Ka’ba on a shady spot in the location of Hijr. He saw a dream. In this dream, an individual called to him:

“Awake, and excavate Tayyiba!”

He asked, “Where is Tayyiba”?

However, the individual did not answer his question and walked away.

Abdulmuttalib, who woke up, got excited. Not having interpreted the dream, he spent the night wondering, “What did Tayyiba mean? What would excavating Tayyiba be like?”

The next day, he fell asleep at the same place. The same man reappeared and called:

“Awake and excavate Barra!”

Puzzled, Abdulmuttalib again asked, “Where is Barra?”

Once again, that man walked away without providing any answers.

Abdulmuttalib awoke from his sleep with much greater curiosity and excitement. Yet, he was unable to give meaning to what he saw. Again, he spent that day and night under the influence of his dream.

He slept in the same spot on the following day. The same man came to him and said, “Awake. Excavate Madnuna”.

In his deep sleep, Abdulmuttalib asked the man, “Where is Madnuna?” Yet again, the man walked away without an answer.

Abdulmuttalib’s curiosity and excitement reached its final level. He knew for certain that the dream he saw on end for three days was not meaningless. Nevertheless, he did not have the slightest clue as to what it meant.

Abdulmuttalib, who was asleep in the same spot on the fourth day, saw the same man’s arrival. This time the man called:

“Excavate the Zamzam!”

When Abdulmuttalib asked, “What and where is the Zamzam?” The man’s answer was,

“The Zamzam is a kind of water that never stops. It never reaches the bottom. With this, you will provide the pilgrims’ needs for water during Hajj. It is between the spot in the Ka’ba where the blood from the sacrifices are spilt and the place where their droppings are buried. A crow with multicolored wings comes and pecks there. There is an ant’s nest there as well”. 

This time happiness was attached to Muttalib’s excitement when he awoke because he obtained the clue to make sense of his dream. He heard the Zamzam well mentioned before many times. However nobody knew where it was because as the Jurhumies were escaping from Mecca’s invaders they threw all of Mecca’s valuable belongings into the Zamzam well, made the top of the well one with the soil, and brought it to an undistinguished condition. Since then, the name Zamzam was there yet the Zamzam itself was missing. 

Abdulmuttalib understood at last that he was appointed to find and unearth the Zamzam’s location. He immediately began to explore. He went to the place he learnt of in his dream. Meanwhile, he saw a crow with multicolored wings soaring and as it landed on the ground, it shuffled some place with its beak and afterwards, it took off towards the sky.

There was nothing to say for Abdulmuttalib’s happiness. He was going to attain the glory of finding and exposing the well (from the giver of life) that had been kept secretly for years. He determined the Zamzam’s location and it came turn to dig. He did not want to have this glory snatched by and to open this secret to someone else. For this reason, he took his only son, Haris, to the determined place and began to dig the next day. Awhile after some continuous digging, the Zamzam well’s woven wall stones and its circular opening appeared. Abdulmuttalib was joyful and excited. Naturally, he could not believe his eyes. Nevertheless, regardless of whether or not he believed his eyes, what appeared before him was a well’s opening. He began to recite Takbir, “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!”

Abdulmuttalib and Quraysh’s Leading Figures

The Qurayshis were watching Abdulmuttalib’s activity from the beginning and when they realized what was about to come , they notified their elders. Sometime after, Quraysh’s elders came to the excavated site and said: “Oh, Abdulmuttalib! This is the well of our forefather, Ibrahim. We also have rights to this well. Let us partake in this task”.

Abdulmuttalib answered: “No, I cannot. This task has been assigned only to me and has been given to me from among you”.

The notables of Quraysh were not pleased with Abdulmuttalib’s finalized decision. From among them, Adiyy and Nawful spoke:

“You are a lonely man. You have nobody to rely on other than your only son. How is it that you defy and do not bow down to us?”

This remark burnt Abdulmuttalib inside because the Qureyshis were belittling him by saying he was desolate. He made his uneasiness exceedingly obvious, stayed quiet in sadness for some time, and then poured out his heart in this way:

“So, you are condemning me by saying I am lonely and desolate?”

When no answer came from his addressee and after thinking for some time, Abdulmuttalib opened his hands and turned his face towards the sky and said, “I swear that if Allah gives me 10 sons that I will sacrifice one of them by the Ka’ba” (3)

These words of Abdulmuttalib were a prayer, an oath, and an offering.

Going to Damascus

It was obvious that this incident was not going to end here. The situation was quite critical. Clashes had broken out many times due to such incidences. Because Abdulmuttalib knew this, he abandoned his excavation plan for a moment and offered to have the situation resolved by a judge. His offer was accepted.

They determined a judge by the name of Sa’d bin Huzaym, who resided in Damascus.

Abdulmuttalib took a few of his uncles by his side and went with a group that included the Qurayshi tribes’ leading figures towards Damascus.

However, the Divine fate stopped them before they entered Damascus. The water of Abdulmuttalib and those with him ran out in the middle of the burning desert. For them, this was much more dangerous than their most violent enemy. The leading figures of Quraysh refused Abdulmuttalib’s appeal by saying, “Our water is only enough for us”.

Abdulmuttalib and his kin found their lives in great danger. There was nothing they could do. Looking for water in the middle of the desert was no different than pursuing a mirage.

Abdulmuttalib Goes to Find Water

However, Abdulmuttalib mounted on his camel and tried to find water after all. The others started to wait for the moment they and their relatives would die of thirst.

However, what they expected did not happen. The camel of Abdulmuttalib, who was bearing the light of the Master of the Universe (Muhammad-pbuh), tripped on a large stone covered by dry grass while passing through a valley. The camel stumbled and the stone moved out of its place and rolled down. Ab­dul­mut­ta­lib could not believe his eyes. In the scorching desert, he saw water glittering in the hole that the stone moved out of!

He dismounted his camel. When he broadened the hole, the water started to flow rapidly. More water accumulated in the hole. He returned and shouted enthusiastically. “Come on! I have found water sufficient enough for you and for your animals!”

They became very happy as if they were born again. They went to the water and drank as much water as they could; then, they gave water to their animals.

At one point, Abdulmuttalib turned to the Qurayshis who did not give him water and said, “Come to the water! Allah gave us water. Both you and your animals should drink from it. Come, do not stand there, come!”

The Qurayshis approached the water with embarrassment. They drank heartily and had their animals drink from it as well. They spilt the old water from their leather bottles and refilled them with clean water.

As soon as the Qurayshis drank the clean and cool water that was offered to them by the one who excavated it, they immediately changed their attitudes. They turned to Abdulmuttalib feeling shameful and guilty and said, “Oh Abdulmuttalib, we do not have anything to say to you now. We understand that excavating the Zamzam is your right. You are the only one who is worthy of this task. By God, we will never hassle you on the topic of the Zamzam again. We no longer think it is necessary to see the judge”.

Without visiting the judge, they all returned to Mecca from the halfway point together. 

When Abdulmuttalib returned to Mecca, he continued excavating with his son, Harith, and extracted the Zamzam in a short time.

They Draw Lots for Valuable Goods  

There were some valuable goods that emerged from the Zamzam well. Among these goods, there were two deer statues made from gold, swords, and suits of armor (shields).

When the notables who left Abdulmuttalib the right to extraxt the Zamzam saw these valuable goods, their anger swelled and they stood over Abdulmuttalib once more. They said, “Oh, Abdulmuttalib, we have shared rights over these goods”.

At first, the generous and patient Abdulmuttalib rejected their wishes by saying, “No. You have absolutely no rights over these goods”. However, then, he put forth his generosity and chivalry and said, “I am going to behave gently towards you once more. Let us draw lots among ourselves”.

The Notables of Quraysh were pleased by this and asked: “Fine, but how and in which manner are you going to draw lots?”

Abdulmuttalib explained the procedure that was to be followed: “We will draw two lots for the Kaa’ba, two lots for me, and two lots for you. Whatever comes up for whichever party will belong to them and if nothing comes up, then, that party will be deprived.”

This method was an unbiased solution. For this reason, the Qurayshis were pleased and they commended Abdulmuttalib’s behavior and said, “Truthfully, you have acted in a merciful manner”.

They went next to the Hubal statue in the Kaa’ba and drew lots. Once more, the drawing proved that the Notables of Quraysh had no rights over these valuables. The golden deer statues were left to the Ka’ba; Abdulmuttalib won rights over the swords and armor, (5) and the notables’ share was deprivation. They no longer had something to oppose and the matter was resolved in this way.

After having the swords and armors forged into sheet, Abdullmuttalip covered the door of the Kaa’ba with it. Thus, he became one of the people who adorned the Kaa’ba with gold.

Abdulmuttalib was at the perfect age of 40 when he extracted the Zamzam well.

Thirty years later, his number of sons became 10 thanks to the endowment of God Almighty. Meanwhile, he remembered the promise he had made many years ago: to sacrifice one of his sons by the Kaa’ba. However, which one should he sacrifice? All of them were more wonderful and loveable than the other. However, Abdullah was much different.

[saokpe]

HDLW Sibling Week 2020 - Day 7: Free Day!

Well guys, we finally made it to the end! This has been one hell of a week, definitely in my personal life, but even more so here! The mods at the HDLW Sibling Week tumblr have been amazing this week, I can't give them enough praise for both their choice of prompts and their support of the various artists that participated in this event! Artist's submissions that you can see reblogged over at their tumblr blog @hdlwsiblingweek2020, so please give those a look if you haven't already. I am also eternally grateful for the positive response these fics have gotten, it really was what kept me going throughout these hectic collection days. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you!

This final fic is definitely my most ambitious of the week, hence why it took all seven days to work on and is being posted a couple hours later than usual (sorry!). A story meant to make reference to all of my previous HDLW Sibling Week fics but also work as a stand alone story of sacrifice and action! I love how it turned out, I hope you all do as well! (Sorry for the long message, please enjoy...)

A Drawn Out War

My feet slam and echo across the hollow chambers of the remains of McDuck manor. I clutch my weapons between my fingers, its sharp edges scratching along my already weathered and distraught palm. My clothes torn, my pristine pale face vandalized with the war paint my quivering expression wore. My feet keep moving, the nagging voice at the back of my head begging me to surrender, my resolve not allowing that cowardice to take over. She could be anywhere, yes, ready to pounce, ready to relieve me of this stress I allowed myself to carry, ready to aim her barrel between my eyes and allow me bliss. I don’t want bliss.

The wooden hallways I stalked threatens to turn, a sudden panic overtaking me as the idea of what hid at the other end drenched me. “I wonder if my brothers are still in the game?” My head cruelly asks, the thought dragging every step I attempt to take. I reach the hallway’s turn, the corner of my eye catching an odd construct. The continuing alleyway housed not tensed air but instead an elongated line of walls made completely out of blankets. My curious gaze is promptly stolen from me, however, as the moment I reach the odd monument’s presence, my leg is clutched. The fear from before returns to me like the shots I have so cautiously tried to avoid, the creature which held me knocking me over and dragging me to the now horrifying display of incorrectly used bedspreads. Darkness finds me, my heartbeat slamming over my chest with the power of the gun I loosely dragged with me. As my body finally halts, taking my bearings, like a cornered animal, I begin to shoot wildly.

Foam hitting cloth bangs the pitch black room, the sound of life grunting and ducking the only other element attracting my senses. Soon the ammunition halts, the clicking of an empty magazine the only thing my weapons shoots. 

My heavy panting fills the silence, soon the sound of a match lighting and the bright flame it produces return my sight. My distressed eyes look across, seeing the multicolored walls decorated crudely with the bright orange bullets I dispensed. I continue to dart, looking for who my captors may be, seeing two uncannily familiar faces looking back. Both sharing the look of blood curdling adrenaline as I, Louie and Huey stare down at my prone body.

“HUEY! LOUIE!” I bolt back, clutching them between my aching arms. The little strength afforded to me wasted as I revel in the long lost warmth of my brothers. “I thought you two for gonners after what happened at the kitchen!”

“Almost but,” Huey begins, stopping as he drags his candle closer to my sullied face, “-it seems we all survived.” A well deserved smile stretches over him.

I part from my re-discovered family, “Where are we?”`

“Cushion Island.” Louie, a tang of grizzled seriousness, answers. “After she separated us, I started reconstructing it as a safe haven, taking a new design philosophy into consideration. We’ve been hiding out in here for a while, amassing enough resources to be able to fight back. Looking for you as well.” The kid shares a knowing glare with his eldest twin. 

“I’m just happy Webb-” I attempt to, in my newly found excitement, say before finding a hand forcefully placed over my beak. Looking over to where the arm originates, I see Louie, still not dropping the solemn urgency in his gaze, tilting towards me.

“Don’t say her name.” He whispers, “She’ll know.” His hand slowly begins to part.

“What do I call her then?” Seeing the consequentiality of the room rise, I emulate their murmur.

Huey lowers the wax candle to the middle of the circle we had created throughout the conversation, “We’ve been calling her Worerdurk.”

“Ok then,” I allow the new information to season, “I’m just happy Worerdurk hasn’t, y’know, gotten to any of us.” My voice heightens as it attempts to avoid the severity of the situation. “It’s almost been a full day, she must be getting frustrated by now.”

“I don’t think so.” My hoodie wearing brother’s clarification almost overlaps my prediction, “Our sister isn’t that weak willed, she’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“Like a predator to their prey.” Huey finishes, his eyes dilating as he recollects. Both keep silent after, allowing me to think the situation over. What they have seen I can only imagine…

Their silence is not well utilized as before I could get a response out, the thin walls ripple and shake. The sound of distanced footsteps reaching us. Our eyes bolt open, their pupils staring at each other as we prepare for action.

“She’s here.” My silver tongued sibling addresses Hubert.

“I’ll get the weapons.” The cap wearing and increasingly calm Huey bolts deeper into the tunnel of blankets.

I turn to worry, keeping vigilant for any type of indicator of danger. This paranoia leading me to notice Louie a bit less jumpy, uncharacteristically so. His sitting body hunched over a picture.

I crawl over, raising my neck over his as I attempt to view the celluloid. Though harder to see in the miniscule candle light, the object identifies itself as a picture of us, dressed in humorously designed attire. The photo is far from methodically composed, streaks of blurred action carved to it as I rebelled against my sweater. I chuckle at the recent memory.

“Where’d you find that picture Lou, I thought Uncle Donald threw all those out.” I inquire.

“We found it while trying to smuggle guns from Worerdurk’s room, she had it framed.” He remains stoic, halting his answer as his drowsy eyes continue to stare over the picture a bit longer. “She takes this game so seriously, you think she can be talked out of it?”

“I don’t know.” My answer reins honest.

… A moment of shaky stillness follows my response, interrupted by the sudden movement of my triplet’s hand as he crumbles and hides the picture, turning to me swiftly after.

“Does your gun have any darts left?” Louie looks to me.

“No, I’m tapped.”

The answer brings out an annoyed grunt from the analytical adventurer. “It’s worthless to try to escape without guns. We’ll just hope Huey is faster than Webbs.”

“I thought we couldn’t say her name.” A second of my jittery concern asks.

He remains silent as the correction reaches his ears. Thought overtakes him, the footsteps getting louder and faster, its banging only matching the intensity of my beating heart. It raises further, and further, and further. The sound of incoming danger scratching over me, the thinning quiet only adding to the stabbing dread. My fingers clench into themselves, my spine straightens, my brow furrowing in shaky anticipation. The slamming steps boom, one after the other. I shift the anxious glare I wore across the room, my head nagging for an escape, eventually finding solace in my brother. Who, against any type of common sense or logic, wore a smirk, a begrudged smile. Why?

A figure darts to our corner of Cushion Island. I toss my body back as I analyze if the silhouette was friend or foe. Luckily, the candle light reveals the identifiable outfit of Huey Duck. Louie’s smile fades.

“This is all I could find, she's right on my tail.” Alarm laces his words. Quickly dropping a collection of plastic pistols, rifles, and ammunition over the cushioned floor, Huey begins to haul various items towards himself. Footsteps approach. As I stare over my brothers, their faces contorting and biting in determined vigor, two pistols are thrown over my lap. “Those are yours.” 

“Thanks..” I take both weapons, along with their accompanied darts. The weight pulls my arms to the ground before leveling them. Scanning the pistols I am able to assess their strength, weapons worthy of battle. Additionally, I notice their dramatically fitting color scheme, the right sporting vibrant red and green while the left a light blue and pink.

The sound of a long rifle clicking sounds from Huey, who while fiddling with his weapon asks, “You taking anything, Louie?”

The green adorned duck exhales heavily, “Don’t think so.”

The question’s originator sighs, standing as the answer delivers. 

“That’s stupid, how are you gonna protect yourself without a gun?” I ask, the oddity of the response forcing me to question. “Are you not that good of a shot?”

My brother restores the smirk from before, the incoming attacker’s noise scratching over us, yet he walked closer to it.

Huey pulls my shoulder, raising and dragging me to Louie’s opposing direction.  “He’s a great shot, actually.”

“We need to wait for Louie.” I attempt to reason, my feet slipping behind my older brother, my sight distancing from my younger. 

“He’ll draw us some time.”

“What?! No!” The situation’s condition punctures. The anger of it giving me the strength to break from Huey’s grip, the force shooting me closer to Louie, my feet continuing the travel. Not soon after the arms I escape stretch and lock over my abdomen, my sprint halted as I am once again pulled away.

“Dewey, it’s alright.” I stop my resistance as Louie speaks. “Just doing my part of a deal.” His words spewed with such confidence yet they only read to me like self-righteous nonsense. “You’ll win anyways, it’s not that big a deal.” 

Just as he finishes, the blanket walls that separated the room Louie stood over begins to ripple and open, a figure walking in as the footsteps halt. I don’t get to see the menace as Huey, with one final tug, emerges out from Cushion Island with me in hand. I separate as we bounce over the wooden flooring of the relatively better lit mansion hallway. 

“We need to run, you got your weapon?” Huey asks, slowly returning to his feet.

I struggle to find any will to return to my feet, the burning anger and sorrow encompassing all my energy. 

“Dewey!” 

My trance is broken, the sorrow suppressed as anger refuels me. I bolt to my feet, clutching the dual pistols in my unstable hands. I take a deep breath, the first intake of air I’ve dared take in the last minute. “Let’s go.”

The two of us race back the way I came, almost immediately after, the horrid sound of Webby’s guns firing echoes from the now desolate Cushion Island. My feet stumble, my teeth grinding onto each other in sizzling rage. I shake my head, holding my tongue as I return to a full sprint.

“Stop!” Huey drags his feet. “Look.” He points to the remaining stretch of the hallway.

I step besides him, looking forward to the sight of an almost invisible piece of string stretch taught along the two walls.

“Let’s just step over it.” I suggest.

“Look closer.” 

I return to analyzing the continuing path, noticing what my brother refers to. The same piece of twine repeated across the rest of the house.

“How did she even find the time to do this?” My shocked and agape mouth sounds off.

An eerily familiar family of footsteps fastly approaches. “Dewey! Huey! I know you’re there!” An arrogant and maniacal Webbigail boasts, her shadow stretching and distorting as it begins to turn towards us.

“Quickly! The lights!” Huey orders.

The instructions delay trying to reach my understanding but I eventually look over to the chandelier hanging near the alleyway’s middle. My arms raise, haphazardly aiming before laying two bullets in its direction. The second stray shot crashing across its top, knocking it out of balance and out of frame. The set piece falls harshly across the wood, the bulbs it hung shattering onto the walls and ground. Blinding all nearby with its lack of light.

“Come on! Over here.” I hear a voice call to me from my left, the still readable figure of Huey Duck hiding behind one of the drawers the house had a plentiful variety of. I throw myself, ducking alongside him.

“We need a plan.” I begin, my whisper falling to the increasing vibrations of the approaching Worerdurk.

“Yeah…” Huey dives into thought. Mumbling as he thinks of what to do.

My patience pounds across my head, my hand readjusting in fidgety anticipation. My neck turns as I wait for my smarter half to adjust to the situation, looking off to the hallway, searching for danger in the ink black darkness. As I scan the environment, two green dots stare back at me. My heart rips from my chest before I return to hiding.

“She has her night vision goggles, hurry up!” I don’t attempt to hide my desperation in the whisper.

“Don’t rush me!” he retorts, quickly slamming his feathered palms over his beak as the screech echoes, alerting any still breathing creature in the house. “Dammit…  I got a plan.”

“Tell me! Quickly!” I disobey his previous scowl.

“You only have one chance Dewey,” A pair of hands fall over my shoulders, “-take our sister down.” The hands squeeze before my body is hurled where Huey once was, the sound of his body scurrying past me blasting. I look over, the silhouette of my hat wearing brother dashes into the hallway. 

Gunfire instantly commences, the streaks of wind the darts produce flying over me. My body curls, the intensity of the moment shooting between my bones, the fear washing and twisting every miniscule detail of my body; forfeiting control of my valor. 

“No!” I yell to myself. Too much has been sacrificed, Louie tried to reason with her, Huey survived for my sake and now he’s fighting alone because he put his trust in me. “I CAN’T GIVE UP NOW!” 

I raise my body over the drawer, placing my arms across as I wildly shoot forwards. The pistols alternate shots, my left hand firing first, the red and green, the gun brave enough to attack first. The beaming green dots of my sister’s goggles shift to me before darting towards my brother, who’s weapon shoots aimlessly at her.

My guns don’t let up, my shut eyes doing little to help the cause. My fingers press and release in unison, the foam ammunition bouncing from all surfaces it can find, my continuous onslaught only hesitating when a loud grunt strikes me. 

“I’m out!” Huey screams, grunted pain in his begrudged announcement.

My soul sinks. I lower my body behind cover once more, my right hand finishing to press the trigger, it clicking, empty. I look down to it, tossing it aside as a million different thoughts flash my mind. I stare the hardly visible blue and pink dart gun down, the last remaining, one final shot. I exhale before tossing my body back over the wooden shelf, taking both of my overfilled hands to aim. Between the eyes, the two glowing beams that glared me over. The whirring of a gun ready to begin shooting sounds from my target, the artillery she carried ready to riddle my body in plastic. 

“Dear o’ sibling of mine…” I whisper, the previously suppressed sorrow stationing in my right index finger which sadly levers.

My final dart shoots ahead, dashing between the wind which pulled against it, vanishing to the darkness upon release.

“Ow!” A high pitched Webby screams. A palpable anticipation takes hold of all in the audience. A wait of the outcome, of the winner's disclosure. “Aw man! You got me!”

The reveal deafens my ears, my already limited view doubling, my head dizzying.

“YOU DID IT DEWEY! YOU WON!” A secondary voice congratulates.

The room begins to spin, my body’s excess of adrenaline leaving my body sluggish upon its departure. Consciousness begins to leave me, my body dropping as quickly as my increasingly heavy eyelids. Before I fall, however, I scream out, raising my left hand, the blue and pink pistol still loosely attached to it, “Heck yeah I did!” 

My brain shuts down.

Dewey eventually woke up, where he, along with his brothers and sister, was forced to clean up the mess their little Nerf war had caused. Despite that particular drawback, Dewey still proves proud of his cooperative victory over the once thought unbeatable Webbigail. The perfect end for a particularly perfect week.

Thank you all so much for reading through this rather long week finale, if you have yet to read the rest of the week’s submissions, all are posted on this AO3 link

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 34

Part 2 of 4 is here and it’s time for Sonic to get into some huge trouble. Absolutely enormous actually. Though if you couldn’t tell I don’t have much to say about this scene beforehand, so how about we just jump right into...

    ~It’s frustrating, but I guess I can’t complain. I pushed myself too hard and this is what I get. But getting sick sucks! I wanted to run with Sonic and see what he came to these mountains to find. He wasn’t holding back either with his running, so I was going to have to get better in a hurry to keep up. It was the perfect opportunity, but instead I passed out because of a fever. Ooh~! How embarrassing and frustrating!

    ~Really though, I wonder what Sonic came here for…~

    “What is with that fairy!” Draw yelled at the top of his lungs as he struggled as best as he could to run while holding Rosy in his arms. “Don’t they realize I can’t use my bow if I’m carrying this weirdo girl!”

    Being smaller than Rosy made it hard enough for Draw to run back down through the chasm they ascended through the mountain range, but an onset of rain and a plethora of stone golems made the young golem hunter’s life extremely difficult. Though he was not alone in having to fend of the golems.

    Unlike Draw, Sonic had nothing slowing him down and every golem that challenged him was quickly reduced to a heap of rubble. Consequently, Sonic’s path was marked by a trail of the unusual flowers with blooms of light that sprouted after their shimmering seeds were freed form the crystal cores of the golems. It proved fortuitous bread crumb trail for the fairy who followed Sonic further up the mountains into their forested peaks.

    “I guess you don’t trust me?” Sonic directed a question to Mote as he took a moment to climb to the top of a tree to get a better view of the ruins ahead of him. Mote did not draw nearer though as Sonic surveyed his environment and the hedgehog shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter as long as the tyke keeps Amy safe.”

    Leaping from the tree, Sonic continued his ascent and found a challenge to his liking as the naturally polished stonework of the ruins took on far more complex shapes than he had grown accustomed to seeing. Massive gears and cogs turned and gave life to the ruin, redirecting rainwater into channels built to receive it long ago while the perpetual motion of the gears also served to keep anything larger than moss from growing on the ancient machinery. Rosy would have marveled at the sight, but Sonic could only shake his head as he zipped through barely taking any time to appreciate the vista.

    “Maybe another time, as long as the “god” here is nice that is. We had to burn her out or there wasn’t going to be a way to help her.”

    Sonic wasn’t one for talking out loud, but he figured Mote would hear him even if it did not acknowledge he had noticed it. The least he could do was give it a hint to what he was up to while it tailed him. Making it even clearer, Sonic reached into his spines to where he had stashed them and confirmed that Rosy’s tarot cards were still secure in their waterproof case.

    There were no more hints Sonic intended to give however as time was of the essence. Fast as he was, and as much as he had pushed Rosy to her breaking point on purpose, rain and mist slicked mountains were no place for someone with a fever. But he could not just collect the hundred Rings and run. Rosy had not been sleeping for some time and continued to push herself believing she could bear through it with her seemingly limitless energy. But Sonic knew from experience how important sleep was and knew he stood no chance at getting Rosy home safely with just the two of them and Draw if she didn’t get any sleep. To that end he sought out one of the powers that could likely be affecting her as she watched the ominous little planet in the sky day and night.

    “You sure you should be here?” Sonic shot a question Mote’s way as he came to a stop at the end of a towering flight of stairs that spiraled through the clockwork ruin. “From what the tyke tells me, you can’t even interact with a medium, so should you really be seeking an audience with a god?”

    The yellow fairy simply looked at Sonic impatiently and he could not help but smirk. “Suit yourself, unless you mean to tell me I’ve come all this way for nothing. Though the welcoming committee is telling me otherwise.”

    The golems did not bother Sonic in the least even though they were powerful, and the green energy beams they blasted from their cores were destructive to the point they could force most matter back into the Rings that once formed it. But Sonic easily destroyed the golems and turned the courtyard before what he believed was a temple into a flower garden lush with flowers of light. Barely acknowledging his handiwork, Sonic strode into the main temple and at the end of a long columned hall of staggering height, he found what he sought.

    “So, this is the stone god who dwells in the Misty Mountains huh?”

    With Mote taking cover in his spines, Sonic withdrew Rosy’s cards and strolled forward at a leisurely pace. Cocky as it looked, Sonic was being especially careful as he could feel the weight of the presence in the hall. And as the giant before him was very much like the one Rosy helped Draw defeat when they first met it was undoubtable that the golem was tremendous in physical weight as well presence.

    With fists the size of a ten-story building and arms that formed a massive, pointed arch, the golem was almost a structure itself within the temple that held it. Unlike most simple golems though, it had a head that resembled a short beaked dragon or perhaps a gargoyle. Below the head a massive arrangement of gears and gyros swirled and turned around a crystal rose nearly the size of the construct’s fists. The blue glow it bathed the room in though alone separated it from the nature of the golems who it shared its form with. And the blue glowing eyes it opened and looked down upon Sonic with.

    “Yo!” Sonic greeted with a two-fingered wave, “I brought a gift for you!

    “Or maybe that’s too informal.”

    Deciding he was perhaps actually being disrespectful, Sonic stood up straight and clapped his hands together twice before bowing with his hands pressed together. After a short pause he stood and continued strolling forward past the paper talismans that encircled the massive golem.

    “Anyway, how about that gift, big guy?” Sonic asked with a wink as a twinkling of golden motes of light gave way to a Ring that Sonic twirled along his finger as he walked.

    It was not easy for Sonic to maintain his swagger however as the presence of the golem was crushing and seemed to push him back with every step he took. Still, Sonic pressed forward and held out the Ring as though he was looking to shake hands with the stone monstrosity.

    “Come on big guy, nothing wrong with a little harmless gift!”

    So engulfed in the golem’s presence, Sonic smirked as he made eye contact and knew he was not looking at a mere golem. Still, the Ring he held burst into a cloud of the golden motes of light typically left behind by collected and used Rings and swirled around Sonic and the entity he had presented himself to. One that warned him of his actions immediately with the ability to speak he shared with it.

    “You have made a choice that would bring death to most Ring Mage.”

    “Sorry,” Sonic apologized as he scratched around a moment in his ear before blowing on his finger. “But two problems there. I don’t know what a Ring Mage is supposed to be, and giving you a voice to speak with is a gift.”

    “The voices of gods should only be heard by our chosen, the mediums.”

    “Like the girl who’s been unable to sleep because someone can’t seem to clam up. Sorry, but I’ve had enough of watching her trying to smile away how much she’s suffering. So, we can talk like I came here to do, or you can keep making empty threats.”

    “Brazen, child who runs upon the flesh of Gaia.”

    “From what I recall a nice guy who’d help me and the kid out without a second thought. So, what about you? Or are you going to look up at that planet in the sky in fear too?”

    “You are foolish to challenge me mortal.”

    “No,” Sonic rubbed his nose as he watched the gears that surround the entity’s core begin to spin and churn with greater life as the giant rose from where it had rested. “I just have a friend I promised to get home and I’m not letting anyone get in my way.”

    “Foolish, but perhaps you will amuse Yoluku.”

    “A test first huh,” Sonic smirked as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

    “You would have me challenge Yoluku, mortal. It is only natural that I test you to know that you can stand against the tide you would call.”

    “Yeah, a tide of egg yolks sounds awful,” Sonic smirked and purposely twisted the name he was given. His wit was met with mirthful laughter and a promise of destruction.

    “Your mocking of Yoluku will perhaps earn me praise with your destruction mortal. So be it, amuse me with your pitiable attempts to survive my fury.”

    “Time to run,” Sonic whispered back into his quills to Mote as the entity rose, lifted on a skeletal trunk and legs of blue light to a height that destroyed the temple that housed it.

    From further down the mountain, Draw was knocked from his feet by the force of the entity standing. Dropped Rosy, the unconscious hedgehog girl nearly rolling over the edge of the ravine the koala had been running beside. “Now wha–~?”

    Draw never finished his question as he looked back up the mountains and saw the storm had rose well above them and grew in intensity, becoming a lightning filled crown to the giant at their peak. Adorning that crown, the little planet that watched Rosy day and night looked down upon the trial about to befall Sonic and the koala.

    “Is that really a god? And did that blue idiot actually challenge it? What is wrong with you and your friends you weirdo girl! Just who do you people think you are!”

    Held fast by fevered sleep, Draw’s questions fell on deaf ears and Rosy offered him no reply. The voice of the entity atop the mountains however was clearly heard by all the golems upon them and Draw.

    “Wake my children, let the cries of the Children of Gaia surge in you and become your strength. Bring me the medium and destroy all who would challenge you.”

    “You really are going to get me killed,” Draw swallowed as he crept towards Rosy and readied his bow, notching an arrow as he eyed the golems that seemed to rise from the mountains themselves.

Scene 34 · CLEARED Sonic & Rosy, to be continued

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And now Sonic has angered the neighborhood god. He really should know better, but he’s just trying to get Rosy the help she needs XD But on a whole, the story is actually heading towards a major development soon and Sonic’s tendency to challenge gods is necessary for it to really work. But that might be too much of a hint so I’ll see my lips here and hope everyone is hyped for the next scene!

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Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – One Last Kiss – Hikaru Utada – From Neon Genesis Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[whumpqin]

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Here we are, the next chapter!! I honestly.... can’t wait to get into this story more it’s... gonna be a fun ride :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @faewhump @imagination1reality0 @galaxywhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @insanitywishes @spiffythespook (if you want on the taglist, just let me know!)

CW: Fantasy whump pet whump, referenced sensory deprivation, food, starvation used as a form of conditioning, conditioning, brainwashing, collars, leashes, self victim blaming, memory loss, being mean to people with stutters, tied to a table (thanks Jeremiah), abusive language, mentioned fingore, blink and you’ll miss it animal abuse, near escape attempt, barbed wire mention

Word count: 5,457

With time, the basement only got darker. Even with his Cambion night vision, a boon he was quite thankful for in fact, it never chased the looming bits that always stuck to the corners. It couldn’t rinse the wish for tomorrow, so that he might be let out of the basement for even just a few minutes like they had promised him.

It had been over a year and a half since Elisha had won the game they presented to him and had finally been let out on ‘walks’, as they put it. Now, he clung to the faint light that peeked from the basement trap door like it was his only hope. In some cases, it actually was.

In truth, a year and a half didn’t seem long enough to Elisha. It felt like it was shorter, but also longer at the same time. A year and a half just didn’t sit right with him, but Aridai had let it slip recently at some point, and he wasn’t about to question his Master. Instead, he allowed the words to hang in the air, constantly reminding him how long it had taken for them to finally trust that he was capable of being good. Elisha often found himself wondering how long it took the other people that Aridai had kidnapped to learn how to be good.

Even though he wasn’t one to question, it was all he could really do in an empty space like this, that is, if he didn’t want to acknowledge the damned shadows, which always felt like they were creeping around somehow. Elisha forced his mind to wander away from the thoughts, allowing himself to unravel the longer they left him be.

Most of the time, he simply stared up at the basement door, waiting for his Masters to come back.

Elisha was beginning to grow dependent on his captors, their very presence a source of comfort in spite of his attempts to believe otherwise. He barely got any interaction beyond them, and he couldn’t help but indulge the part of himself that was dreadfully lonely. Elisha clung to every morsel of voice they threw his way with an unhealthy need, like a touch starved animal begging for attention. At some point, he had begun to be good just to get the friendly pats they gave to him when they were impressed by his behavior.

It was easy enough for him to wonder if he was finally beginning to go crazy, stuck down here in the basement. Yet another reason Elisha wanted out.

As it seemed, in the midst of his thinking, his wish was eventually answered. He heard the heavy footsteps of one of his Masters thumping through the hallway, stopping just at the trap door that led into the basement where they kept him. Elisha shifted, chains rattling as he knelt at the center of the room obediently. They always hated when he kept himself to corners or sides.

The trap door opened, flooding dim light into the room. Footsteps slowly lowered one of his Masters down the stairs, unknown to Elisha until he caught sight of blonde hair and green eyes. They were a dead giveaway for Jeremiah, who quickly scanned the room until he found his quarry.

Without speaking he crossed the room, and Elisha leaned forward as best he could to Jeremiah’s outstretched hands reaching for his jawline, allowing his head to be taken so his Master could inspect his face. In a strange note of gentleness he brushed his thumb against a tear stain from last night, watching Elisha with thoughtful poise. The night before Elisha had cried himself to sleep after not being good enough to be allowed upstairs that previous day, and it was obvious how desperate he was to improve his manners.

“Aridai’s out for the day, pet. It’s just you and me,” he stated simply, removing his hands. While Elisha chased the touch, Jeremiah instead reached into his pocket to retrieve a key. The hands returned, tilting Elisha’s head to the side so he could unlock the chain. “You’ll be a good boy for me, right?”

Elisha watched silently as a leather leash was hooked onto his collar in place of the chain. He remained quiet, unsure if he had been given explicit permission to speak or not, until a sudden hand clamped down on either side of his jaw, putting enough pressure to make it hurt.

“Right, Caleb?” Jeremiah asked again, in a warning tone that made a chill run down his spine.

“Ye-yes, Master! I’ll be g-good,” he said, trying to recover quickly as the narrowed gaze was directed his way.

“Good. Up, boy.” Jeremiah tugged on the leash hard, forcing Elisha to stand to his feet. A small whine was pushed through his nose as he got up on wobbly knees that hadn’t moved from their position for what felt like hours, his tail the only thing that could help give him balance. Jeremiah didn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?”

“Cay-Caleb. My name is Caleb.” Elisha, he corrected mentally.

“Good. What are your rules?”

As he slowly began to recite them, Elisha was led out of the basement. They had recently added a new rule in the wake of more recent - or perhaps old, he couldn’t remember - events. It had taken a bit of getting used to and a fair amount of punishments before he could accurately recall it, but it was simple enough eventually.

Pets with bad tempers get punished.

Jeremiah guided him up the stairs, giving him a moment to get his bearings towards the top. Elisha’s head poked out of the basement like a scared, stray cat, looking every way as his wide eyes attempted to adjust to the bright light. Being in the darkness for so long, Aridai had told him in that matter-of-fact tone, made him quite unused to having any normal light from the day. They had further gone on to tell him that his walks would need to be shorter until he got used to being up here, before they could let him stay up any longer. He couldn’t remember how long ago that had been.

Elisha was pulled up to his feet, standing on even footing with Jeremiah and easily towering over him. Sometimes he forgot how tall he was, considering he had spent so much time making himself smaller. Jeremiah kicked the trap door shut with his right boot, not bothering to lock it. There wasn’t anything to keep safe down there besides the chain, and that wasn’t going to escape any time soon.

Distractedly, a bird began chirping outside, joining the chorus of others. Elisha’s head whipped in that direction despite being dragged away, searching for the culprit. His sensitive eyes found bright light shining through the living room window, catching sight of broad fields of golden plants. A small bird was perched on one of the thin stalks, picking pieces of it apart to hold in its beak.  It was still somewhat blurry, but it was enough to put a smile on Elisha’s face before the image dipped behind the archway between the living room and the entrance.

He swiveled his head around to see Jeremiah leading him into the kitchen. Elisha watched as he tied him to one of the unmoving drawers beneath the sink, allowing him enough lead to walk the length of the kitchen and no more. To further prevent Elisha from just untying it himself and escaping, Jeremiah added a small padlock to the mix, shoving its key into his front right jeans pocket.

“Can you cook?” The question was simple, but it made Elisha pause for thought. He used to make many things for himself when he was home - likely the reason Jeremiah was asking in the first place - so he figured it wouldn’t be too hard to pick it back up again. He nodded, pulling his hands together to wring them. “Good. Then make me breakfast. Something with eggs.”

Again, Elisha nodded, slipping away from Jeremiah to cross the kitchen and access the fridge. Elisha liked eggs too, as far as he could remember, so he knew there were many ways to prepare a meal with them. For now, he decided on something simple, but what he liked: an omelette. He gathered eggs, some greens, and a bit of meat together, laying it all on the counter.

Elisha stared at the ingredients for a long time, feeling his mind drawing a blank on the proper steps.

Had he… forgotten how to do this? Forgotten how to cook?

It was fuzzy, similarly in the way he couldn’t remember what day it was, despite knowing that outside looked like harvest season. He couldn’t remember when harvest season was exactly, but the way the wheat looked it was definitely ready to be picked. In a similar fashion he knew what an omelette was, but seemingly all of the times he had made it slipped away, like water through his fingers.

As Elisha lay his hands over the meat - some bacon he found in the back of the fridge - his eyes began to well up with tears. He couldn’t remember what to do. How had he forgotten this so easily? Were there other things that being in the basement had taken from him?

“Something the matter?” Jeremiah’s flat voice murmured from behind him. He was sitting at the table Elisha vaguely recalled hearing a chair creak away from.

“N-no, I’m, I’m okay. It’s okay. I’m… I’m making food, Ma-Master. It’s…” Elisha forced himself to settle into a low crouch, opening one of the low cabinets to search for a usable pan. “just... been, been a while.”

The silence was deafening. Elisha forcibly rattled pans around until he found a suitable one, and rose to his feet to set it on the stove.

“...You better make something fucking edible, Caleb, or you’re going back down into the basement,” Jeremiah said in a low tone. Elisha looked back at him, seeing a serious expression stare back into his own, terrified eyes. Jeremiah only looked angrier, cold and without mercy. “Stop crying. I don’t want your fucking tears in my food.”

“Ye-yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master,” Elisha blurted out, flinching away as Jeremiah rose suddenly in his chair. He had immediately known what was wrong, even though he had been obedient and subservient like they wanted him to be. Pets don’t speak without permission.

Jeremiah reached up, grabbing Elisha’s horn and forcing him down. Elisha grabbed onto the counter for some leverage, his long legs sprawling out in a desperate attempt to stay standing. He could hear the thump-thump of his tail as it tapped against the wood cabinet, nervous and terrified of what was happening.

So close, Elisha could see the strands of light green that danced in Jeremiah’s eyes. “I didn’t fucking tell you to speak, Caleb. Are you going to give me problems today? Maybe I should just throw you back down there and be done with it, hm?” Elisha opened his mouth to say something until he felt another hand clamp it shut for him. “That wasn’t permission either, you fucking idiot. This better be a damn good breakfast for putting up with your bullshit, you understand me?”

He nodded as his face twisted into a horrible frown, tears beginning to stream down his eyes. Elisha’s foot slipped just slightly, lowering himself so that Jeremiah was practically holding him up by the horns.

Jeremiah… paused, for a moment. There was a slight twitch that Elisha wouldn't have been able to catch otherwise had he not been so close, a slight note of softness that wasn’t there before. The corner of his mouth twitched in tandem, before he released Elisha entirely, allowing him to sink, sobbing, into the floor.

“Come on. Get back to what you were doing,” he said. It was harsh, but not exactly in the way that Elisha had heard before.

He didn’t question it.

The threat was heard loud and clear, but it only made Elisha feel worse. There was so much more pressure on him now, with staying upstairs the reward that hung on the line. But he still couldn’t stop how he floundered on his memory, unable to recall even the simplest steps of making a fucking omelette.

He started by lighting the burner underneath the pan he set down. It took a moment to find the right one, turning on a couple others before he found it. Elisha took out some of the bacon and set it into the pan, just enough for Jeremiah, and waited.

Elisha was sure that he needed to be doing something else while this cooked, but he couldn’t be sure. He continued with the eggs, figuring that since it had been so long since he cracked one he needed to be more careful about the shells so he wouldn’t screw everything up. Another few moments of gingerly searching the cabinets, cringing every time Jeremiah shifted in his seat, Elisha settled on one of the two beige-colored bowls they had and drug it back to the counter top without making much of a sound.

Every time he selected one of the eggs and cracked it, it felt like eyes were boring holes into his back. The feeling itself kept his throat locked up so he wouldn’t speak, the constant lump in it forcing tiny whines whenever another sob wanted to tear through him again. Elisha knew that Jeremiah was watching him carefully, testing him even now. He felt a note of added stress at that idea, of still not being good enough to be given permission to exist. It ruined his nerves, which had already been shot since he had stepped foot into the kitchen. The bird seemed almost like a distant memory, now.

The eggs were slowly cracked into the bowl one at a time. As he set down the second set of shells, Elisha paused. I didn’t ask him how many he wanted, he realized.

With great reluctance he slowly turned back around, already wincing from having to confirm that his Master was watching him, only to see Jeremiah engrossed in what looked like a laptop. His eyes were focused on the screen instead of Elisha. Had he just been that paranoid this entire time?

Instead of giving it too much thought and psyching himself out of doing it in the first place, he strode towards the table and tapped against it with his index finger. Jeremiah’s gaze drifted from the screen over to his fingers, watching them for a moment. Then, he looked up to Elisha, who immediately flinched from his sharp gaze.

“What?” Jeremiah sounded annoyed at being bothered for even a moment, and Elisha had to resist the impulse to drop to his knees and start begging. His other Master might have appreciated that, but Jeremiah was quick and to the point. He wasn’t interested in playing games.

“Um… how, how many, um…” Elisha began, voice barely above a whisper.

“Speak up, I can’t fucking hear you. And stop stuttering, or I���ll give you something to stutter about,” he warned. Fresh tears sprung to Elisha’s eyes and trailed lazily down their familiar paths. He wiped them away quickly and pretended it didn’t happen.

“Um… How many… eggs?” he asked again, voice wavering.

Jeremiah turned his eyes back to the screen. “Three.”

With a feeling of relief and accomplishment, Elisha scurried back to his workspace. He cracked another egg with ease and flipped the bacon with a fork he found in one of the drawers. The same fork was wiped off and placed into the bowl with the eggs, the word scrambled flitting around his mind as he mixed them together quickly.

At some point, Elisha had given up on his original idea. There was no way he could remember how he made it before without some help, and he wasn’t about to ask Jeremiah. Instead, he just tried to cook to the best of his current ability. After the bacon was done, he found a plate to rest them on before dumping the eggs into the pan and praying that they didn’t mess up in the process.

A few agonizingly slow moments of watching the pan later, a breakfast for one was made. He ignored the empty, hungry feeling in his stomach as he finished plating it, instead picking it up to present to Jeremiah. Elisha hung close to him, watching as his Master drew his eyes away from the laptop to drag his plate closer to him.

He sharply looked to Elisha again. “What do you expect me to eat this with, my hands? Go get a fork.”

On command, he scrambled backwards and rustled through the drawers until he found a suitable fork, quickly placing it on Jeremiah’s plate and resuming his awkward posture of standing next to the table. Elisha tried resting his hands behind his back while holding his wrists, but the way that Jeremiah slowly looked over at him with that vaguely annoyed glare told him that this wasn’t right, either. He swallowed as Jeremiah stood up with a sigh, reaching for something on top of the fridge that Elisha hadn’t noticed.

He pulled out what looked to be leather straps from a bag. As Elisha watched the leather was slowly unwound, his heart leaping to thud against his throat with every second that passed by. He couldn’t run like he was, so he was simply forced to watch as Jeremiah moved behind him. A sudden force pressed him down against the table, pressing his chest into it as leather was wound around one of his wrists.

After Jeremiah was finished, Elisha had been carefully tied down to the table with no hopes of moving, arms outstretched outwards and legs against the corner stands.

Jeremiah sat back down with a sigh. He was still being watched with nervous eyes as he took the first bite, though his expression remained neutral as he audibly chewed and swallowed. Then, he turned to Elisha.

“Did you forget what salt was? This shit’s bland,” he criticised. Elisha remained silent, unsure how to properly answer that yes, he had actually forgotten about the existence of salt. “Whatever. I’m too fucking hungry to make you remake it. Just hope you know you’re not getting any reliable food until you learn to cook like we both know you can.”

Elisha felt a note of disappointment - at himself, really. Because Jeremiah was right, he used to be a rather good cook. He should have done something better to try and remember for his Master.

Jeremiah ate in total silence. Elisha watched every agonizing bite, trying not to imagine how good it must taste - even if it was bland. The only sounds present were the occasional clicking of the computer mouse and Elisha’s forced, slow breathing. His tail thumped against the table legs a couple of times until Jeremiah ordered him to stop, to which Elisha wrapped it around his ankle as best he could. In a final attempt to be good, he tried to focus on the computer screen to read what Jeremiah was doing, but he wasn’t able to catch anything due to the angle.

He vaguely recalled having a much better computer than that little laptop, and his heart ached at the thought of it. It was probably thrown out by now, or sold to someone else.

Jeremiah slid the plate away when he was done, standing to walk over by the sink. Elisha wondered what he was doing, until the smell of leftover scraps from the meal wafted in his direction. He strained to look, noticing crumbs of food and oil still left on the plate. Elisha’s stomach rumbled at the sight, smothered by the sound of a fork clattering into the sink. The water was turned on after that, and he could hear the sound of Jeremiah rustling behind him.

A cup of water was suddenly set into Elisha’s view, which made him jerk in surprise and shift the whole table. Jeremiah snorted in amusement as he slowly tugged at Elisha’s bindings and untied him..

“Kneel on the ground, Caleb,” Jeremiah ordered once he was free. Elisha slid down onto his knees without hesitation, somewhat thankful for being off of his feet. “Here. Drink this.”

A cup of water was placed against his lips as Jeremiah tilted his head back. Elisha savored every bit of the bland but refreshing taste of the water. He wasn’t usually given something to drink on a regular basis, so every drop Elisha was grateful for. It was another one of those unspoken rules that his Masters would get mad at him for if he didn’t comply.

“Thank you, Master,” he whispered when Jeremiah drew the cup away, setting it back onto the table.

“Good boy.” It released some of the inner tension in his stomach to hear the praise. It was so few and far between, especially from Jeremiah, that Elisha had quickly learned to savor every time it reached his ears. “Here.” Jeremiah slid the plate to the edge of the table as he settled back into his chair. “Eat the scraps off of that. It’s all you’re getting today.”

As if on cue, Elisha’s stomach growled. His tail lifted up into the air, curling happily as his skinny fingers pulled the plate off of the table. There were leftover bits of eggs, bacon, and oil - crumbs that the fork hadn’t been able to gather. He picked off what he could with his fingers, relishing in the feeling of having food on his tongue even if it was just the scraps. Elisha eventually resorted to licking at the plate, cleaning it of any taste that had remained on it.

While he busied himself, like an animal with one of those chew toys - even though he tried not to think about it like that - Jeremiah was doing something on the laptop. From his vantage point Elisha didn’t really care, having more important matters to attend to. However, when he did look up again he caught the cool greens of Jeremiah’s eyes staring him down, and Elisha paused mid lick to stare back.

“Alright. I think you’re done,” he muttered, snatching the plate from Elisha’s hands. His fingernails scraped horribly on the ceramic, making both of them wince at the sound. “And we’re cutting those today. I’m not going to be ripped to shreds by those claws of yours.”

As Jeremiah stood to put the plate in the sink, Elisha looked down at his hands. Claws, he had called them, but they hardly looked like it. They were just fingernails, albeit a bit stronger than normal, human ones.

Elisha felt an uncomfortable twinge at the memory of being held down, fingers held out of his sight while one of his Masters snipped away at his nails to make sure he was “declawed”, as Aridai had once said. Jeremiah had countered that they would have to cut off his first finger bones for that to happen, and proceeded to go into the diatribe of all this information he knew about declawing cats. They had a nice laugh about it, and joked about doing the same to Elisha. He repressed the shudder that crawled against his skin at the idea of Jeremiah cutting his nails, being left alone with him.

His collar was hooked upwards suddenly. Elisha made a startled, choked noise as Jeremiah drew him up to his feet.

“Come with me, now.” It was harshly toned and tense. Had he done something wrong? Elisha dared to not ask. Instead he scurried up to his feet and allowed Jeremiah to lead him to the bathroom and shove him inside. “Stay in here until I come to get you. Don’t make a fucking sound, understand?”

Elisha nodded, then Jeremiah shut the door.

He heard a knock at the front door.

Shifting forward, Elisha pressed his ear against the bathroom door so that he could listen. The front door wasn’t so far away from the bathroom - the house was small enough as it was - so if he was quiet he should be able to hear their conversation.

“Can I help you?” Came the muffled voice of Jeremiah as he opened the door. It wasn’t his typical greeting or voice, set in a higher pitch that Elisha remembers his mom saying was a phone voice. It meant there was someone new at the door.

Someone who didn’t know he was in here, trapped with two sadists.

Elisha’s heart leapt into his chest as it painfully beat against him. He could get free, perhaps. He could open the door and shout for help, and between two people they might have a chance of pushing Jeremiah out of the way and getting out of here. Elisha’s hands clenched into fists, eyes widened at the voices.

“Just a package, sir,” the other voice said. It was also masculine in nature. “Here you go.”

Pets aren’t allowed outside without explicit permission, the more cautious part of him hissed.

There was a pause. Likely Jeremiah inspecting the package and the man the same way he does with everything. Suspicious until proven otherwise.

I could have a chance at freedom. I could really go home.

“...Nice weather lately, huh? Can’t get warmer days like this in the fall,” the newcomer said, attempting to make conversation.

Elisha’s hand slipped down the door, thumbing over the handle with careful consideration.

Pets aren’t allowed. Pets do what their masters tell them to.

I could have my life back again.

Leave it ALONE.

“No, you really can’t. Helps make the farming easier, though,” Jeremiah responded. Elisha knew he was talking about the wheat fields he planted because he was bored and because it ‘helped sell that we’re farmers and not living with a Cambion pet’, as he had overheard before. “Hey, thanks for bringing this out here, by the way. I know some of you wouldn’t be damned to come out this far down the road to deliver a package like this.”

Open the door. Open the fucking door just do it do it-

A small whimper left through his nose as fresh tears flooded his eyes again. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t disobey. The last time he did he was hurt so badly he couldn’t stand for what felt like a week.

Turn the knob and scream, tell him you’re trapped. He’ll understand from the leash, he’ll know-

They hate Cambion, out there Elisha, he heard a softer voice, one whose name he couldn’t place. Stay inside for me, okay? Don’t let them know you’re here.

“Oh, no problem! Gotta look out for the rural people, you know? My mom’s a farmer, so I totally get it. Besides, you and your partner seem nice enough.” A pause. Elisha scraped his nails against the wood of the door, praying he would be heard and hoping Jeremiah didn’t hear at all. “Looks like everything’s in order. Have a nice day, sir.”

“You too.”

The door shut.

He had missed his window of opportunity.

Elisha heard the sound of something heavy impacting the table. Then footsteps began to thud towards him. He scrambled backwards, forcing his hand away from the door and falling down in the process. He backed up so that he hit the side of the tub, chest heaving with utter fear as the door handle turned. It opened, and Jeremiah’s head peeked around from behind it.

Their eyes met, and he smiled. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jeremiah said as he opened the door all the way and held out his hand as if he were calling an animal. “Come here, Caleb.”

On command Elisha moved forward, dragging his leash behind him before stopping in front of Jeremiah to kneel. He looked up, leaning into the outstretched hand to accept the comfort offered. It was a gentle touch, one few and far between much like the praises they gave, so Elisha allowed himself to relax at the feeling of it.

“Alright, get up. You still have to clean up the mess in the kitchen. You can at least clean, right Caleb?” Jeremiah asked with a tilt of his head.

“Of, of course not, Master. I… I can, um, clean,” he responded, eyes darting away and back again as his mind slowly searched for the words that it wanted to say.

I could have almost been free of you.

Jeremiah tugged on the leash, leading Elisha back into the kitchen. He was tied to the same drawer and directed to clean up. Jeremiah watched him as he picked up all of the ingredients, including the greens he didn’t end up using, and put them back where he had found them. Elisha washed the dishes too, thankful that he could at least remember how to do that.

His mind slowly fell back to the voice of that delivery person, knowing if he had had just enough courage to step out and call for help, he might have been free already.

If only you didn’t rely on them so much, his mind hissed back at him.

Elisha sighed, leaning against the sink as he finally finished cleaning. He waited for a moment for his next order to be issued, but everything remained quiet. He turned around to see Jeremiah watching him like a hawk. Elisha froze, terrified that he had done something wrong, and darted his eyes away to look less threatening. His gaze found the box that was now on the table next to the laptop, funny letters scrawled on the top, black over white. He squinted to read “Barbed Wire” on the top of it.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Jeremiah started, dragging the box closer to himself. Elisha watched him closely, fear nearly cutting off his air. He heard me at the door. He’s going to punish me for it. I can’t believe I was so stupid to think I wasn’t caught, why was I even thinking about leaving pets aren’t allowed outside without explicit permission. “I don’t like it when you call me Master.”

Elisha blinked once, twice, three times before he finally registered what was happening. He had to force his hands to grip the sink hard to support his wobbly knees.

“Caleb, I want you to call me Sir from now on. It just sounds better, and it’ll be easier to know who you’re talking to anyway. Understand?”

That’s… it? Elisha glanced down to the box, then back up to his Master - no, his Sir, and blinked again. He realized that Jeremiah was waiting for an answer.

“Ye-yes, um… Sir. Yes Sir,” he stammered out, mouth dry enough that it took him a moment to properly get the words out. Elisha tapped quickly against the sink.

“What?”

“Um… Sir, are you… going to use that on, on me?” He nodded over to the box, trying to pause enough so that he didn’t stutter all over the place. 

There was a look of satisfaction and triumph that settled in Jeremiah’s eyes, one that mimicked Aridai’s in nature. “No, Caleb. These are for something else. Why, do you want me to use them on you?”

“N-no! I-I just… it’s… sharp. It’s sharp. The… wires.” Elisha let his gaze fall to the ground. “Sorry for, um… stuttering.”

Jeremiah snorted. “At least you know you’re doing it. But yes, they are. Maybe I’ll have you test them at some point. For now,” he stood, crossing over to the drawer that Elisha was sitting by and began to untie him from the handle. “let’s get you back into the basement. I have work to do, and you’re probably exhausted, aren’t you?”

Elisha gave him a gentle, polite nod. He was tired from being upstairs today, though he wasn’t sure whether he preferred this or the basement. Especially when there were visitors.

As they exited the kitchen, Elisha let his gaze traverse towards the front door where the delivery person had been. He could almost taste the fresh air coming from it, could only imagine how bright and golden everything was from the sun and the wheat. He actually managed to get another glimpse of it from the living room window, and he slowed his pace to get an extended look outside.

Jeremiah tugged at the leash a little harder than normal, nearly threatening to topple Elisha over. “Come on, Caleb. There’s nothing out there for you.” His voice held a thinly veiled warning that told him he was already pushing his luck.

With one last look outside, Elisha watched as a small wren dangled off of two of the wheat plants, then looked around and fluttered away to freedom.

[boat-dock]

“Knowing You is for the Better” chapter 13

I’m very happy with how this chapter turned out! I hope yall enjoy

Hope couldn’t remember how the dream started, it was all foggy and disorientating. She tossed in her sleep fighting against the dark forces pulling at her mind, but despite her efforts, she plunged into the dream head first. 

She was standing in the forest, the one in Mystic Falls that surrounded the school, but it was slightly different. The trees and underbrush were denser but somehow newer, younger. There was a flash of birds flying overhead, their wings pounding like a heartbeat in her ears, making it impossible to focus or figure out where she was. Disoriented she stumbled until she came across a clearing with a large bonfire. Smoke stung her eyes and curled upward blocking out the sky in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. The heat radiated around her causing beads of sweat to appear The birds suddenly reappeared, their cries filling the air as they swirled around, so in sync that it was as if they shared one mind. She crouched to avoid the snap of their wings and the sting of their beaks, her heart pounding and pulling dangerously in her chest. To her relief, the birds pulled back. That feeling was short-lived however as the birds regrouped a few feet away and in a strange cluster, they formed an odd shape. The blurred lines of the form solidified as the birds morphed, melting together into the shape of a woman. Hope stumbled backward but found that her feet were sluggish like the ground was sticking to the bottom of her shoes.

The form sucked in a ragged breath as she came into focus and for a moment Hope noted that she was a young woman with light red curly hair. That changed quickly, however, as she aged before her eyes becoming older and slightly shorter, hair still just as red, but she had a strangely familiar glint in her eyes. 

Hope couldn’t place her face, she felt like she should, but in her hazy dreamscape no name came to her mind, leaving her just as confused and alone as she was before. She was unable to speak as the older woman’s eyes land on her, they were a piercing blue. 

The woman started speaking, but Hope couldn’t make out the words, they seemed to snake through the air to her ears becoming distorted along the way. Strangely she didn’t feel threatened by this woman, power radiated from her, but it was more familiar than anything else. Power didn’t frighten her at this point, she was raised around people with ungodly power and she herself had grown into her own, so when the woman grabbed Hope by the arm and raised her voice she found herself straining to make out her words instead of flinching away. 

A voice broke through the haze, but it wasn’t the woman she was listening for, she recognized it as it called her name, echoing around in her head. The dream around her began to fade as the words got louder, but the fingers clenching her arm only got tighter, trying to keep Hope there. But with Josie’s voice calling to her, Hope fought back prying herself away and letting herself get shaken awake.

Josie is above her, staring at her with worried dark eyes as she gently pets her hair, which Hope finds strangely comforting. “Hope,” Josie’s voice was once again a whisper in the dark,” Are you ok?” 

Hope gulped, finding her bearings, “ yeah,” she rasped shifting so she could sit up, “ just a bad dream.” she could see the worry etched across her face. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Surprisingly she did, she desperately wanted to tell her about the flocking birds and the intense eyes of the unnamed woman, but she found she couldn’t. The dream was dissolving from her memory like a page in water, “ I don’t remember it,” she whispered, a sudden sharp pain sprouting behind her eyes. They lapsed into silence as Josie slipped her hand into Hope’s offering silent support. “What about your nightmares?” Hope asked suddenly remembering the dreams that up until recently had been plaguing her girlfriend. The term girlfriend spent her for a loop but it was far too late at night for her to consider their undefined relationship, “Have they been better?”

“Yeah, they have,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows,” It’s weird that as soon as mine get better yours start,” she commented and Hope could see gears turning in her head. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hope yawned and pulled Josie close as they laid back down. “ come let’s get some more sleep,” Josie settled her head onto Hope’s chest. She pressed a light kiss to the younger girl’s head and with a content sigh fell back asleep.

They slept peacefully until morning and surprisingly they both awoke on time for class. As Josie went to shower, Hope grabbed her phone and called Keelin like she told Rafael she would the day before. Still barely awake she sat on the bed as the phone rang against her ear. 

Her aunt answered on the fourth ring and Hope didn’t need her supernatural hearing to hear Nik screaming in the background. “Hope!” Keelin exclaimed into the phone excited to hear from her niece, “ good morning sweetie.” 

“Hi Keelin,” Hope grinned. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the news she was about to share. How exactly was she going to tell her that she had a surprise distant relative that went to Hope’s school that might want to meet her. “Um I need to talk to you about something” she stumbled awkwardly.

She could basically hear Keelin raising her eyebrows on the other sign of the line, ”What’s going on Hope?”

She took a deep breath before letting the words spill out of her and once she started she couldn’t stop. She tried to keep everything concise and simple but her words got jumbled as she struggled to tell Keelin the news. 

When she finally finished she’s met with stunned silence as Keelin tries to process. “Oh...wow ok,” was all she said

“Are you ok?” Hope asked suddenly worried that she would react poorly, which was crazy and impossible but still a fear none the less. 

“Yeah-yeah I’m just a little shocked is all,” Hope released a breath and raked her fingers through her knotting auburn hair. She wished Josie were here with her, not that the younger girl would know how to handle this situation any better than her but her presence would have been calming. It was scary how quickly she had come to rely on her.

“He told me to give you his email address so you can contact him if you want to,” she waited patiently as Keelin rushed around to find a pen and paper and then jotted it down as Hope recited it. 

“I will definitely do that,” she answered with a note of nervousness in her voice that Hope knew all too well from her many meetings of her family members over the years. “Maybe I can meet him when we come down for family day later this month,” she tried to sound nonchalant but she didn’t do a very good job. A smile spread across Hope’s face.

“This is so exciting!” she squealed which was very unlike her but she was caught up in the joy of a separated family finding each other. Her eyes widened and she gasped,” Oh and while you guys are here I can introduce you to my new girlfriend,” she made a mental note to talk to Josie about that word when she gets back. 

Keelin is shocked by this sudden change of topic,” A girlfriend?” she asked and blood rushed to Hope’s cheeks as she realized how suddenly and easily she had dropped that information. “Who is it?” she asked

Pulling back slightly, Hope danced around the answer,” it’s a surprise,” she grinned trying to keep her spirits high and not get overwhelmed with worry. This did nothing to detour her aunt, however. 

“Is it Josie? Please tell me it’s Josie,” she spoke quickly into the phone as Hope’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

“You’re no fun,” she groaned, secretly relieved that she didn’t have to hide the information.

“Yay, we like Josie!” Keelin announced like it was a completely normal thing for her to say. Hope was stunned and stood up suddenly so she could move aimlessly around her room while talking. 

“What? Have you guys talked about this?” she dreaded the thought. Her family’s love was everything to her but sometimes their direct attention made her skin crawl slightly. She was comfortable with them of course but the spotlight wasn’t her favorite place to be.

Keelin scoffed, “ Oh sweetie that’s what our group chat is for,” she groaned, remembering that her family had a separate group chat specifically to talk about her. 

“You’re all crazy,” she said bluntly, causing her aunt to laugh. They said their goodbyes and Hope tosses her phone to the bed as she tries to focus on getting ready for the day. However, she is easily distracted by the many pictures covering her desk and side table of her family. 

Talking to Keelin reminded her of just how much she missed them, even though she spent time with all of them in New Orleans very recently. Still, sometimes it was like a piece of her was missing, she felt a magnet drawing her toward them no matter where they were. When she was younger she imagined leaving the school to traveling across the country or the seas till she got to them. 

There were dozens of pictures spread out across her room, of her with them and even some of them before her. She’s so enthralled by them that she doesn’t notice Josie reentering the room. The girl was dressed for school but her hair was curled up in a towel on top of her head. She snuck up behind Hope and wrapped her arms around the older girl’s waist and resting her head on her shoulder. “Do you miss them,” she asked after noticing the strange air surrounding the Hope. 

“Yeah,” she said simply and knocking her head against Josie’s lightly. 

Josie untangles herself so she can grab one of the pictures and examine it. The slightly aged photo had a dark frame that contained several figures in fancy evening dress standing on a set of stairs. Hope smiled, this picture was the only one she had that contained all of her father’s siblings (minus Freya of course), it was actually Freya who insisted that she know this photo because it was the only way for her to know her uncle Finn. “Who are all of them?” Josie asked. Hope was pretty sure that Josie already knew but she was happy to talk about them either way.

“Well you’ve met most of them,” she commented, pointing out her father, uncles Elijah and Kol and her aunt Rebekah. “This is my late uncle Finn,” she motioned to the tall solemn-looking man with dark hair. “And that is their mother Esther,” her eyes fall on the older woman with light red hair and all the air leaves her lungs.

The face from her dream flashed into her mind and her knees buckled. She caught herself before Josie noticed, she was still studying the picture, “You look a little bit like her,” she commented, flicking her eyes to Hope’s face, “ the eyes and hair.” She had never even thought about that. Honestly, she tried her best to not think about her grandmother, the stories she’s heard over the years have been less than stellar. Why would Esther be haunting her dreams? Many horrible thoughts ran through her mind but she quickly pushed them aside deciding to think about it later in private so Josie wouldn’t worry. 

Instead, she steered the conversation on to a happier topic. Once again she found that she didn’t know how to bring up what she wanted to talk about. She watched

Josie closely as she placed the picture back on the desk. Josie’s eyes snapped to her as she noticed Hope’s starring, “What?” she asked, making a face. 

“Nothing,” she answered quickly before realizing that this was her chance and if she didn’t take it now she might never,” actually...would you be my girlfriend?” she spit out far too quickly. 

After her initial shock faded Josie grinned brightly and pressed a kiss to Hope’s lips. The butterflies in her stomach vanished. “Of course,” Josie breathed, smiling against her. For a wonderful moment, they were the only two people in existence and the world spun for them. Nothing else mattered but the girl in her arms right now. Josie pulled away abruptly,” I have to go tell Lizzie, “ she exclaimed before squeezing Hope’s hand and disappearing out the door. Hope yelled behind her that she would see them at breakfast but she doubts Josie heard her. 

With Josie gone, Hope wanders back to the photo, a sick dread fills her, her grandmother was smart, devious and above all else, patient. Whatever she was planning by sending Hope these dreams was most definitely well thought out. But was it evil? Would she hurt Hope or those she cared about? 

Honestly, she was unsure. Esther had a strong sense of family, but she was also known to go to the extremes to do what she deemed right even if it meant hurting her own blood. Whatever she was up to, Hope knew that she was going to keep her family and friends safe.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

Blood Spatter - Part 9

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4: Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8

________________________________

Angrily, Miho growled at her aggressor as she was shoved into the next room. Her confusion, fear and ire suddenly paused, however, when her eyes fell upon two figures also present. They were on their knees, their hands bound behind their backs, one with bruises all over his face – left eye swollen – the other’s face torn by bloody tears.

Sebastian.

Selina.

“What the hell is this?” Miho barked as her abductor closed the door behind him.

For a moment there was a weighty silence, with Miho seeking answers from her friends, though in their beleaguered state they were the least likely to provide them.

“Unfortunately, we couldn’t do this in a gentler manner,” the man behind her declared, looking over Miho’s shoulder at his two compatriots.

“Do what?” Miho spat. “Because kidnapping and assault aren’t exactly synonymous with gentleness.”

“Whatever they say…” Sebastian began, but his sentence was broken when he was thumped on the back of the head with the grip of a gun.

Both Miho and Selina let out cries of protest, the former starting forward, but her arm was seized once more.

“Whatever we say, ultimately you’ll have a choice,” the man told her, his gravelly voice rough against her ear. “You have a purpose far and beyond the paltry existence you’re floating aimlessly through, and we’re going to make you face it.”

“My life is mine,” Miho grated, “and it has nothing to do with them. You need to let them go, let us all go.”

The response to this statement, was the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of Sebastian’s head.

Miho’s trembling increased, and Selina let out a thick sob.

“Please,” she begged, blood dripping from the tip of her chin.

“Why?” Miho gasped. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because Vérrún’s legacy vanished hundreds of years ago in a line of impotent male children,” the woman holding the gun to Sebastian’s head answered.

Sebastian’s eyes grew wide.

“Vérrún?” he blurted, his good eye flickering to Miho. “It’s not possible. That line was cursed.”

“Freya is incapable of forgiveness?” the man sneered. “She has no sense of irony giving his gifts to the child he murdered?”

A bitter, incredulous chuckle, crackled out from between his broken lips.

“You think she’s a reincarnation?”

“Reincarnation, curse broken, it matters not,” the man asserted.  “She’s going to awaken and take up her ancestor’s mantle.”

It was clear Sebastian knew what it all meant now, as with a grimace, his focus turned to his sister.

“You can’t,” he snarled, and despite the threat of a bullet to his brain, he lunged sideways.

The force with which he was restrained should have fractured his cheekbone, his face slammed into the concrete floor and held there.

“Stop, stop it!” Miho barked, her face a snarl of viciousness. “You’re going to get nothing from me acting like savages.”

“We require your awakening regardless,” the man told her frankly, picking up a large knife from a tray behind him - a knife, perhaps closer to a machete. “Vérrún’s line has remained dormant since the beginning, but now the curse is lifted, you have the potential to be all that he was and more.”

“Still a shitty sale’s pitch,” Miho grated, teeth bared as the blade was offered to her.

“The choice before you is simple,” he told her, disregarding her commentary. “Kill the vampire and awaken, or decline, and we kill them both.”

Miho’s lungs seized up.

“Vampire?” she repeated, a cold sweat finally breaking out.

It couldn’t be Sebastian, he couldn’t have been turned or his wounds would have healed… which meant…

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Miho’s eyes fell upon Selina.

“Oh God,” she murmured, her head snapping back as the man put the knife hilt against her palm. “I will not be killing anyone.”

“Even if you do not apply the killing blow, you will still be responsible,” he pointed out. “Two, instead of one, and a fellow hunter - that would be tragic.”

“You fucking bastards!” she roared, gripping the blade, white-knuckled.

She could swing at them, but bullets moved faster.

It was impossible.

Impossible.

“I can’t kill Selina, I can’t, I can’t…”

Sebastian pleaded with her silently to do something, Selina too, but it was…

Impossible.

“You… you want me to kill a vampire? Where is the one who turned her?” she rushed desperately.

“We…”

“I’ll gladly kill that creature!” Miho declared vehemently.

How long had she been at the hospital? Selina was not a vampire when she left the club with Jazz; she could not have been turned that long ago, and it boggled Miho’s mind how quickly the world had yet again been turned on its head.

“That is not the choice before you,” the man said sternly.

“Why? Why them? You don’t need them to awaken me!” she protested, heart galloping a thunderous cadence.

The sound of gun hammers clicking caused the stampede to stumble.

“You’ll let him go?” she forced out, but the first reaction came from Sebastian, despite the cold streel against his head.

“No!” he shrieked, and on reflex Miho snapped back.

“The hell do you want me to do?” she fired, eyes burning, throat burning. "What can I do?”

“This one cannot be saved now,” the man pointed out, gesturing to Selina. “The question is only one of lesser evils.”

“The only evils here are you!” Sebastian snarled, and copped a heavy knee in the spine for his trouble. “You’re not hunters, you’re monsters!”

“Is this the moment I become a killer?” Miho wondered, as Sebastian’s shouting and Selina’s crying faded out, drowned, suffocated by gravity drawing the blade toward Selina’s neck.

“No… please…” she begs, held down by two, the man taking a handful of hair and forcing her head down. “Miho, please!”

“No matter what I do, I lose. No matter what, any innocence I have remaining will be demolished.”

“Miho, please!”

“And I’m selfish for thinking about how this will affect me. A murderer.”

Sebastian sounds like an angry bear as I ready my blade. They’ve ceased holding him at gunpoint, focusing instead on just keeping him prone, preventing him from intervening.

“I’m sorry,” Miho muttered, but it has to sound hollow to the condemned. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Again Selina howled.

Then stopped.

The blade was impossibly sharp.

The thud of a head hitting concrete, grotesque.

It rolled to the side.

Looked up at Miho in horror.

Selina’s flesh did not burst into flame or crumble to ash like she thought a dead vampire’s might; it was like any other corpse.

A corpse because Miho made her one.

There’s blood on my hands – I can’t see it, but it is most definitely there.

Why they let me go, I don’t know; maybe they wanted to see what I’d do, where I’d go, who I’d call.

My feet are moving but they have no sense of direction or destination: invisible footprints in the asphalt as deep and dark as my sin.

They released Sebastian too, but on the dark roadside before dawn, he wouldn’t meet my eyes, couldn’t.

I can’t blame him.

I killed his sister.

He told me to leave, to walk, but never said where; and I know he’s angry, and in pain, and I shouldn’t feel angry at him for responding that way - but now what?

“Do you feel different now?”

All that talk about a cursed bloodline I’m supposed to be descended from, but the only curse I know now is my reality. 

I cannot seek refuge with my best friend, a vampire who like Selina was turned. The shame alone is heavier than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I cannot run to Kiril, who made it clear the only thing that bound us was the witch’s spell now broken, regardless of whatever lingering emotions may still dwell within me.

And I cannot pretend I’m still me, or rather, I’m a different me who was - how could I not be with a conscience as stained as this?

Some part of me hopes Narumi finds me, so I can tell her everything and have it done with. Perhaps she would drag me before Kiril’s father and that would be the end of that. But I’m too stubborn to hand up my head on a silver platter, my drive to survive too strong to just roll over.

“Fuck,” I whimper, flopping down onto a park bench.

That word, however, just doesn’t cover it.

At least my head doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Ha!” I laugh aloud, alone with morning approaching.

“Caw!” a nearby crow echoes, hopping comically along the path toward him.

“Yeah?” I huff, watching as it tilts its head, observing. “If you’ve any advice… I’m…”

Thinking is one thing, but the moment I attempt to vocalise a proper sentence the words get caught up in my abject distress.

“What… SOB... do I do?”

“CAW!” the crow responds, much as I expect.

The voice that follows, I do not.

“Why might you be out here all by yourself?” Narumi asks from behind.

I might have flinched, but I’m too deep in my misery.

The bird hops up beside me, then onto Narumi’s shoulder, burrowing its beak into her hair while she moves around to face me.

“Has something happened, Miss Fujiwara?” she probes, leaning a little to study my face.

Even through the watery glaze across my eyes, I see her as different, different than the last time.

There is a bright glow in her eyes, like a cat caught in torchlight, and her hair is shiny: fine threads of polished metal.

“Are you… are you asking as a cop?” I managed, quiet and thick. “Or as Kiril’s cousin?”

Scrubbing my eyes makes room for more tears, but the lethargy of my body, the heaviness of a falling blade, has for some reason lightened. I’m on edge, furtive, noticing everything around me, and Narumi is at the centre of it all.

“For now, Kiril’s cousin,” she responds, sitting down beside me. “What has the idiot done now?”

My trembling lips betray a most inelegant splutter, a wet chortle.

“Not him,” I tell her, but I dare not reveal too  much.

So I ask a question instead.

“Have you ever killed someone?”

“Yes,” she answers, no hesitation at all. “Sometimes, criminals give you no choice.”

Maybe she knows I’m not talking about her career, maybe not.

“No choice,” I repeat, face twitching to hold back another torrent. “Sometimes, there is no right, just evil and evil and the one who perpetrates it.”

“Have you killed someone, Miho?” she inquires more gently, and I close my eyes.

“I am lost, so, so, so lost,” I weep, shaking my head. “Can’t change what I’ve done, who I’ve hurt. I’ve nowhere to go now.”

“Against my better judgement, I’m going to call Kiril,” she tells me, then flinches when I suddenly get up.

“No, no, it’s broken now and he doesn’t want me.”

“What’s broken?”

“No! I can’t tell you that, none of it,” I bark, and she rises carefully with her hands before her.

“You have Kiril’s protection,” she assures me.

“Not anymore.”

The urge to run is overwhelming, and I haven’t the will to defy it.

My dart to the left gives me several second’s head-start, but Narumi nearly dislocates my shoulder snatching my wrist.

It’s a reflex, the way I round on her and shove with my free hand, but this instinct not only breaks Narumi’s hold, but throws her violently back, cartwheeling across the park until she tumbles into a manky pond.

And I blink at how easy that was.

Sopping wet and stunned, Narumi drags herself from the shallow water and sizes me up.

“That should not have been possible,” she points out, and even through my own surprise I hear the new edge to her voice.

This time, it’s my hands that go up.

“I know,” I admit shakily. “But it is, and it’s not my fault, it’s not - I had no choice!”

“No choice in what?” she very nearly growls.

She must have been going gently, gently, for Kiril’s sake, and vaguely it reminds me of when Kiril said he’d hate to have to kill Narumi because she was a threat to me.

“But that was when we were bound by magic.”

In my moment’s reverie, Narumi has swept in behind me, but she keeps her hands to herself - her tone, however, is full of warning and restraint.

“I… think you should call Kiril now,” I exhale weakly, despite my show of physical strength.

“After that, I know I shouldn’t,” she contradicts, and several small black shapes drift from the sky and perch nearby.

A murder.

Liana, Kai and Kiril all arrived at the same time, in a cab, not the Jag. As they entered, slivers of glass sparkled in Liana’s hair, and there was a little blood on Kevin’s yellow body.  Miho might have commented on the state of Liana and Kai’s slight dishevelment, but she was trembling, twitching, preoccupied by the incessant bouncing of her right foot - up down up down up down.

Anything but look over at where Kiril stood on the other side of the room where Narumi had moved to greet him.

“Looking ravishing as always,” he noted, looking his muddy cousin up and down.

“You can thank your little pet for that,” Narumi grunted irritably. “Threw me good on twenty metres.”

“Is she hurt?” he asked, and Narumi put her hands on her hips, glaring.

“She bloody well should be sprawled at Konrad’s feet right now, Kiril!” she exclaimed, pointing over her shoulder. “And you too. Protecting a hunter? Are you fucking insane?”

“No doubt,” he agreed calmly, stepping around Narumi and approaching Miho with significant caution.

He too had felt the spell break, a searing slash across his consciousness distracting enough to not hear the ring of his phone until Jazz had called for the third time; Miho was missing from the hospital and no one had seen where she went.

“Miho,” he said cautiously, and her head lifted: neck muscles taut and jaw clenched.

“Here to kill me I suppose,” she said plainly, and Kiril’s brows twitched.

“If had wanted that, Narumi would have done it for me,” he pointed out, then paused.

She did not fill the silence.

“Tell me what happened,” he prompted, sitting down beside her, not crowding, but not lifting his attentive gaze.

Immediately, Miho’s eyes began to burn. With flushed face and dribbling nose, she jumped up and  began to pace.

“I left the hospital, then… I passed out, and when I woke up I was inside, somewhere, and there were hunters…”

Kiril nodded, but made no comment.

“They said they’d been looking for me, and insisted I…”

That is as far as she got before crouching on the carpet, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face against them.

“I killed her!” she sobbed into her kneecaps.

“Who, Sparrow?” Kiril urged, with a gentleness that surprised Narumi who was definitely eavesdropping.

“Selina,” Miho gasped, choking on her shame.

“The stoned girl from Pale,” he nodded, moving over to her once more. “Ross’ sister?”

She couldn’t answer, could barely breathe.

“This may not work at all, but if you allow it in,” he said, finally placing his hand against hers. “Let me ease your panic and pain.”

Blearily, she looked up, but did not recoil.

Kiril could feel the natural resistance of her hunter blood now, blocking his influence of power over her emotions.

“Come on, Sparrow,” he urged softly. “Let me in.”

Lips quivering, Miho managed a slight nod, and the fortifications dissolved.

After a few long sighs, her sobbing began to subside, and Kiril was able to ease her to her feet and shuffle her back  to the sofa.

“Better?”

Weakly, she inclined her head.

“They turned her, forced a vampire to turn her,” she expounded. “Then they said if I didn’t kill Selina, they would kill her and Sebastian.”

Kiril took this in, thought it over before voicing a response.

“I can understand why the hunters would want to awaken you - their numbers have dwindled in the last half century -  but it makes no sense to make you their enemy in the process. Why Ross’ sister and not the one who turned her?”

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked meekly, staring across the room at the wall. “Two vampires dead, a hunter woken and… Sebastian… must hate me now.”’

“If you were forced to do this or else see him killed also,” Kiril reasoned, “he will see as much, when the dust settles.”

A tap at the window drew the attention of Narumi only, and she opened it to allow a raven entry.

“We now know who they took to turn the Ross girl,” she announced, petting the bird’s glossy black feathers. “He was young, but his mother is Lady Elzebethe Archdall.”

Reflexively, Kiril cringed.

A noble.

“Konrad is going to learn of this,” Narumi warned.

Scowling, it was Kiril’s turn to pace.

“Liana,” his voice snapped. “Find me Sebastian Ross.”

With a curt nod, Liana assented and exited with Kai in tow.

“I do not like this,” Kiril  muttered, stroking his chin.

“What’s to like?” Narumi laughed. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t order me to stake you, then myself for what we’ve already hidden.”

“No,” Kiril snapped. “This is politics, this is contrivance; hunters do not awaken their own like this, and I have doubts our involvement in this is a coincidence.”

“Your involvement,” Narumi corrected.

“Oh no,” he sniffed. “You made your choice, so you might as well help.”

“Help a hunter?” she chortled. “Why wait for Konrad to order it, I may as well stake myself now.”

“Use your legion to find the hunters that did this,” Kiril growled, glaring at his cousin until his head snapped to where Miho had begun moving toward the door. “And where are you going?”

“Away,” she dropped. “From her and you and this.”

“Like hell you are,” Narumi retorted, in a blink barring the exit.

“There is nowhere far enough you can run that Konrad won’t hunt you down,” Kiril affirmed.

“So far he doesn’t even know, and if he did what? I should just wait here for him to find me?” she frowned, spreading her hands, then pointed at Narumi. “For her to lose her nerve and turn me in?”

“That’s my job,” Narumi countered irritably. “One I will no doubt lose, along with my head, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Miho barked, cutting the air with her fingertips. “You! You and yours in my club messing with people’s hearts and minds.”

“I’m about to mess with more than that,” Narumi warned, already stepping in Miho’s direction again, before Kiril’s arm dropped between them.

“Enough! The both of you,” he shouted. “I forbid you from harming her.”

Narumi balked, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“You forbid me?” she repeated slowly, threat creeping into her voice. “Oh, I called you out of familial courtesy, but that is obviously not, nor has it ever been,  high on your agenda.”

She tried to dodge around him, reached for Miho who did not move, but swiftly found herself slammed against the wall a foot off the ground, with Kiril’s grip tightly around her throat.

“I will  end you,” he hissed up at her, eyes blazing.

“You’ve lost it!” Narumi croaked, digging her fingernails into his wrists, through the flesh, against the bone.

He was older than her, stronger than her, and her inherited powers would not help her against him.

“Maybe so,” he snarled. “But this is the way things will be, and if you double-cross me - Konrad or no - I. Will. End. You.”

There was no time for her to respond before he pitched her across the chamber, and though she turned in the air to make a more graceful landing than Miho might have managed, it still ended with the crash of splintering wood and torn upholstery.

“Time to leave,” Kiril prompted, reaching for Miho’s hand, but she was swift to recoil.

Still, when he narrowed his eyes at her, she inhaled deeply, set her jaw, then headed out the door.

With Kiril’s resources at her disposal, Liana made her way to the registered address of Sebastian Ross. Even though she thought it unlikely the traumatised hunter would return to his primary abode, it was a place to begin.

“What are we going to do when we find him?” Kai asked, carrying Kevin from the car with him. “He’s a hunter, so…”

“We shall be careful,” Liana responded. “I imagine he will be much like a wounded animal - he may snap.”

“You’re stronger than him though, right?”

At the front door, Liana paused to consider this. In her travels with Kiril she had encountered hunters not bound by the treaty in effect across the U.K., but she had always been apart from the fray.

“I would sooner we didn’t have to test this,” Liana replied. “Master Kiril wishes him unharmed.”

”If he attacks you, I won’t hold back,” Kai stated, puffing up. “Neither shall Kevin.”

“And you’re both very brave,” she smiled fondly. “But let’s first aim for diplomacy.”

“I don’t care who you are,” a gravelly voice snarled through a nearby intercom. “Fuck off.”

“Well, that is a surprise,” Liana mused, allowing herself a small smile. “It would seem he’s home.”

“And rude.”

“Well,” Liana chided, “a close friend did just murder his sister in front of him, so we might give him a pass on foul language for now.”

She then lifted her voice and pressed down on the intercom.

“Mr. Ross,” she began, and Kai recognised this as the tone of voice she used when she was attempting to convince him of something he most adamantly did not want to do. “My name is Liana Starling and my companion is Kai. We have come on a matter of great importance and to offer assistance.”

Silence followed as she paused, and Liana gave him some time to process what she said and respond.

But he did not, so she forged on.

“I understand you have suffered terribly this evening. You have been caught up in dealings beyond your control, and largely beyond the control of Miss Fujiwara.”

That got a reaction.

The inner door opened violently, and a rather intimidating looking firearm preceded the apartment’s resident, though both remained behind the security door.

Kai, though a child in appearance and quite short even for his apparent age, slid instantly in front of Liana with his arms outstretched. Liana, however, remained perfectly composed.

“Your emotions are raw,” she said gently, nodding her head a little. “But there is unfortunately more to this tragedy than what you witnessed this evening, and now you are a part of it.”

“Why are you here, vampire?” he spat, his aim not wavering.

Though several feet away, Liana could smell the alcohol on his breath; he’d imbibed so much, in fact, she was sure she could smell it in his blood.

“Miho Fujiwara was the victim of a spell cast by as yet unknown parties,” she answered. “This led to her involvement with Kiril Lambert who…”

“Bullshit!” Sebastian spat, the muzzle of his weapon slamming loudly into the taut lattice weave that separated them. “She went chasing Konstantin Lambert…”

“Yes,” Liana agreed, and continued before he could. “In order to locate your mutual friend, Miss Mann, and while you may not have agreed with or appreciated Mr. Lambert’s help, surely you hoped for Miss Mann’s safe return.”

“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” Sebastian grated through clenched teeth, “then I’m going to destroy you both, treaty be damned. Why are you here?”

“I was told by Mr. Lambert to locate you,” Liana answered calmly, even as Kai shifted his meager weight nervously from foot to foot. “Implicit in his instruction was the directive to inform you of details you could not yet be privy to, and accompany you to his estate.”

Exhausted by distress and fury, the laugh that shook from Sebastian’s chest was at best sardonic.

“You have ten seconds to get off my doorstep,” he chuckled, waving his gun around, “before I kill you, oh, and send whatever’s left behind back to Mr. Lambert.”

“You will not,” Kai growled. “Magic forced Miss Fujiwara and Kiril together, and those hunters kidnapped her and made her choose - she didn’t want to kill you,  it’s not her fault!”

“Six seconds,” Sebastian sneered.

“The vampire used to turn your sister was the son of a powerful noble, so that in and of itself will come to haunt the hunters of this city, you included, whether you’re independent or not,” Liana picked up, though she still remained unruffled. “The ones who forced Miss Fujiwara’s hand have an agenda here far and beyond the awakening of another hunter, and it may very well cause blood to run in the streets of London as it once did.”

“You want to talk about blood?” Sebastian snarled.

“I want to talk about all the other innocent lives that may be lost if the vampire nobility decide what befell their kin was an act of war,” Liana clarified. “It will reach far and beyond your fledgling friend Jazz, whose position is already  precarious; people who have nothing to do with any of this, and certainly have no knowledge of it, will be caught helplessly in the crossfire.”

When Sebastian slammed his bare fist into the wire door, it punched all the way through, causing Kai to flinch against Liana, who placed her hands lightly on his shoulders.

“I just lost the only family I have left!” Sebastian roared, following his punch with a kick that launched the door outward at speed.

Had Liana not sidestepped, dragging Kai with her, it would have collected them both.

“You want me to give a fuck about anyone else right now?”

“What I want is irrelevant,” she pointed out, fingers tightening on  a little as she felt him tensing to move. “What is necessary to avert a major catastrophe, however, is your co-operation. You do not have to like it, me, or anyone else involved, but it is what it is. Beneath your pain, you know this to be true.”

“Fucking, manipulative vampires!” he cursed, enraged but somehow his eye reflected at least some acceptance of what she had said.

“I don’t care if you hate me!” Kai muttered under his breath, then glared up at Sebastian. “But Liana is trying to help you and your friends, so you should stop being so mean.”

“Keep your minion out of my way,” Sebastian growled, eyes flashing before he stalked past them down the path.

PART 10 - Coming EVENTUALLY!

[sweetcatmintea]

When Cats Stare

Hello hello! Flash Fiction Friday again! I wanted to give you something a little more fun since I won’t be able to write for a while. I’m going to the land of beans on toast with my dad and I’m very excited! I’ve never been on a plane before, much less over seas! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story! Feedback is appreciated ^u^

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Words: 1565

It’s never a good sign when your cat stares intently beyond you. You can tell they’re not daydreaming, but you don’t really want to know what they’re looking at. So, when my own furred goblin was sitting bolt upright on my chest in the middle of the night, staring at something, I did my best to ignore him and go back to staying up way too late watching videos on my phone. His persistence waivered my resolve. Usually he would flop himself against my face in a loving kind of smother. The closer to suffocation I am, the more he feels accomplished in his affection giving. But not tonight. He stared with those big green eyes into the space above my head. I figured I should at least try to assure him that the only thing silly enough to be up in the deep dark night was us.

“What are you looking at Bud? You staring at ghosties?” The last word was lost in a yawn.

His soft black fur was warm against my palms. He hunkered down, devoid of his usual purr, still staring.

“If it’s a demon, are you going to earn your rent and protect me like those animals in the hero pet compilations?” I kissed his little nose. “No, probably not. You’d leave me hanging, wouldn’t you, Basil Boy. I’d save you y’know. I mean, I probably wouldn’t be very good against a demon, but the thought is there.” Another yawn. At least my rambling was putting someone to sleep. Basil’s paw silenced my next round of spouted nonsense. The cheek of this cat! It’s hard to contain giggles at one in the morning. Harder still to contain the shriek. Long, slender fingers stretch like tendrils reached down from above. Cracked nails barely glanced my scalp when I looked up in my mirth. Fight, flight, or freeze. I froze. Burning, swirling, bottomless pits on a face of twisted fur matted with what I could only describe as ichor. The hand paused over me, deliberating. Its head tilted slowly, slowly, mechanically unwinding itself from the body while the neck grew longer and longer. Hot goats’ breath fanned my face. I sunk back as far as the twelve or so pillows allowed. It didn’t move. Basil, surprisingly, stayed hunkered on my chest. Of course he wouldn’t make things easier and just run away.

For several long seconds, we stayed like that. Me, pressed into my bed. Basil, squat on my torso. And the creature, looming above. No one moved. No one spoke. There’s an unwritten conversational rule where, if a silence stretches longer than four seconds, it becomes increasingly awkward. Not going to lie, I already don’t do well with social stuff. The more time stretched the more I hoped something would, well, happen.

“Sooo…” I began, tapping my index fingers against the mattress. “What brings ya here?”

It drew back. Not by a lot, still very much in my personal space bubble, but I’m not complaining. It was a start. Its mouth parted, tasting the thought before voicing it. (Or preparing to lunge, I’m not exactly a strange night creature psychologist.) Huh. There’s a beak under all that wiry fur. Cool.

“soOoO…” My own voice parroted back, warped. I guess the beak is just for show. The noise reverberated around us, no indication of its source. Other voices mixed in, creating a jittery, juttering kind of speech. “SsSooOO… SsssoooOoo…”

“… Cool… Are you uh.. Here to kill me maybe?”

“NnoOo.”

That’s promising. I’m sure they’re a very honest.. being…

“Are you a ghost?”

“nnNOo.”

Hmm. “Aaare you a demon?”

“YyEsS.”

K. “Are you here on business or pleasure? Not Pleasure pleasure. Fun pleasure. Like, a holiday or something.”

They pause, crinkling a long finger against their chin. A thinking pose. “PleAsUReee. NoTTt PPleaSuREE pleasure.”

Thank cat beans. That could have been awkward. Their neck clicked as they turned to look at Basil.

“PLeAsuRe…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re not here to steal my cat are you?”

No response. I sat up, drawing Basil closer to myself.

“I mean like, you can pat him if you don’t have that death touch thing going on, but he’s my baby. You can’t take him.”

“Ssoofftt…” They trailed a finger through his fur. The traitor started purring. “NicCee…”

Scooting up so I was sitting, I patted the bed, motioning for the demon to pop a squat beside me. They complied, creaking as they unfolded themselves joint by joint, from their ceiling perch. Basil wiggled from my grip, smacking me in the face with his tail in his haste to double cross me and sit in the demon’s lap. Somehow, I got the feeling this wasn’t their first meeting.

“So that’s Basil.”

“BaAssIiLll. LLikE BaSsIlL.”

“He’s a cool little dude. Do you have cats in the demon world, or where ever you come from?”

“CaaAnn. WaAnTtT BaaSiLLl.”

“Again, and this is super important, you can’t have Basil. He is my baby cat.” I leaned back, shoulders popping in that satisfying way. “Although, we might be able to arrange something for you.”

The demon tilted its head again. I could have sworn there was excitement in those deep, deep, deep pits. Deep, dark.. What was I saying? Oh yeah. Arrangements.

“One month. If you can show me that you are able to properly care for a cat, I’ll get you one in a months’ time. You can stay here and show me with Basil, or show me where you live and that you are able to fulfil a cats’ needs. They need more than food you know. You’ve gotta play with them, desex them, take them to the vet, make sure they have grass to munch on. It’s a big responsibility. I’ll show you some good websites though so you’re not going in blind or anything. What do you think? Sound good?”

They nodded. “SssoUnd GoOd.”

And that’s how I ended up with a demon roommate for a month. Once we got over the initial awkwardness like bathroom schedules, possible dietary issues, and the appropriateness of guests from the underworlds, it was actually pretty nice. We had long discussions about cats, obviously, but also about life. Our experiences were totally different, but we discovered new things together. They made a point of watching 2D animated movies with me and I got really into demonic card games. It was a lot of fun. We added each other on pokemon go and finally cleared some research tasks. They showed me their realm (more pokestops than you would expect) and we worked together to construct a proper cat enclosure using Ikea hacks and the Kitten Lady’s youtube videos. I even had a nice little existential… What’s the opposite of crisis? Calmness? Low-fi study music moment? Experience? Where life after death was confirmed. Damnation may be upgraded to Ikea jigsaws now. Sorry about that. That one’s on me…

It felt like no time at all had passed between that late night conversation and walking into the local animal shelter. The demon (who I should have mentioned wanted to be called Toto after the fuzzy bear dude from My Neighbour Totoro) had taken a human(ish) appearance. A totally generic stranger that was easily forgotten but that something nagged at you that it wasn’t quite right. Today was the day. We’d been approved as potential adopters and were picking out Toto’s new best friend. The lady gave us a friendly greeting and led us straight to the cat room at the back, debriefing along the way. I always forgot how loud it could be back there. Cats yowled and mewed, much to the chagrin of their quieter shelter mates. We looked at kittens and adults, fluffy cats and patchy cats, noisy cats and shy cats. Each one Toto inspected with care. I did not envy their choice. If I could, I’d take them all home. Toto stopped at the far corner. I peeked over their shoulder to see which one had caught their attention.

It was… Unfortunate. A scraggly brown cat with fur guaranteed to mat at a slight breeze. A short little thing with, what I think, was a snaggle tooth sticking out of his mouth. It was not a pageant winner. If someone took a year old loaf of bread and had it trampled by a herd of heavily concussed camels, and one buttered donkey, stuck whiskers on the rounder side and a bottle brush on the rear, it’d be in the same ball park as this ugly cat. It opened its mouth and gargled at us.

“ThHiSs OnEE iS GooOd.”

“I thought you’d say that.” I checked the info card. Not much to go on. The shelter guessed she was about 14. Ah, man. That’s… That’s not great…

“I’m, I’m not sure this is a good choice for your first cat, Bud. She’s pretty old… It’s a pretty difficult thing to go through, y’know, when your pet passes away…”

“NoO gUaRantEE FoR AnYtHiNG.”    

“That’s true… I’m definitely not saying don’t get an old cat, just don’t want you to get hurt so soon… Would she stay with you as a spirit cat?”

“If ShE WiLLs It. CaTs WaNdER.”

“Oh. Sweet. Let’s get her then.”

“yeS.”

“What are you going to call her?”

He inspected her again. Human skin crinkling into a smile when she sneezed and left her tongue poking out.

“FrRiEnDd.”

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Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer 

[its-the-g-tea-babey]

Joker Asserts Dominance Over Banjo

It was a wild day at the Smash Mansion. It had been revealed that Terry Bogard would be making his way to Smash Bros, Banjo and Kazooie had finally arrived, and even SANS (from Undertale) was here! It was exciting for the fellow fighters to meet Sans, along with Banjo and his Bird friend. Everyone was crowded around the bear and bird duo, along with the skeleton.

Everyone except for Joker, that is.

As much as he wanted to meet Sans (he was a big fan of Undertale), he was scanning the scene with an air of dismay. He was almost certain he had been replaced by Banjo and his bitchy bird (who was not unlike Morgana), as they crowded around him and bombarded him with questions about his hometown now that Gruntilda wasn’t terrorizing Spiral Mountain anymore.

He secretly yearned to be at the spotlight, savoring his extremely extra and flashy moments as a Phantom Thief. But with Banjo being a cultural icon, it wasn’t very likely that he would be getting the spotlight soon.

Actually, scratch that.

Make it never.

He would never be popular ever again. He frowned as he gazed longingly at the other fighters, wishing they would notice he wasn’t there. But they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t notice him. Not over Banjo. He glared at the pudgy bear as his saddened frown turned into a rage-filled grimace. That bear, the one that took all his friends from him and left him to rot.

Damn him.

Damn him to the darkest, most sin filled pits of hell.

Hey, wait a minute.

Sin.

Joker’s eyes widened as the back of his mind made a plan. A devious plan to get rid of Banjo and Kazooie once and for all. A smirk split across his lips as his tongue licked and covered them with saliva. “I know what to do…” The Phantom Thief muttered devilishly as he slunk further into the shadows, planning on hatching his wicked plan very, very soon. “You better enjoy your time here, scuzz-fur and bird brain, for it’ll be very short.” He chuckled ominously as he disappeared from view.

***

It had been three days since Banjo, Kazooie, and Sans had come to stay at the Smash Mansion. It had been eventful, to say the least. The child fighters always fought over who would get to fight Banjo next, Pit would always be next to Sans, cracking terrible angel-themed puns (which Sans himself highly approved of) and Fox was surprisingly the only one to wonder where the actual hell Joker went. The vulpine pilot brought this up at the lunch table while talking to Palutena, Olimar, Kirby, and Ganondorf.

Palutena made a face like she left the oven on at her home as she realized that Joker was gone for the span of three days and she never noticed. “I don’t think he’s in trouble, he can take care of himself. He did kill a god, after all.” She said, despite the immense guilt and worry seeping into her words.

“You don’t sound so sure of that Palu.” Fox replied.

Kirby piped up. “You think he ran away cause he thought we didn’t love him anymore?”

McCloud’s ears flattened against his skull as remorse flooded his senses. “Considering his past, it’s very possible.” He said sadly.

“And the fact we’ve been basically latching onto Banjo and Kazooie doesn’t make it any better.” Ganondorf pointed out.

“You’re right, though I wish you weren’t…” Olimar, who had stayed silent the whole time they were talking, decided to put his piece onto the puzzle and help them in what way he could by throwing his input out there.

They all decided to put all their efforts into finding Joker and convincing him that he was still loved and wanted in the Smash Mansion.

***

“Where do you think he’ll be at 5:30?” Joker’s voice questioned.

“I dunno. Probably the garden.” Sans shrugged.

“Great! You just have to walk up to him, start up a conversation, tell him that there’s a fighter he never met, bring him to me, and bingo! Considering your charisma, quick wits, and his stupidity, there’s a 100% guarantee this’ll all work out!” Joker shot up from his seat and clapped his hands, fully knowing Banjo and Kazooie were going to get what they deserved very soon.

“Hehe. The funniest thing about this plan is that it’s not really a lie. There really is a fighter he never met, due to you hiding yourself so well.” Sans chuckled dryly.

Joker shrugged and nodded his head in agreement before sitting down once more. He looked at the clock. It was 5:27. He smiled broadly as he turned to his bony accomplice. “It’s time!” He beamed. “Sans, you must go to the garden!”

The skeleton winked at his Phantom Thief friend as he got up and started to walk out before turning his head towards Joker quizitivly. “What do you plan to do with them once you have them, kiddo?” He asked.

His beaming smile turned into a sadistic smirk as his eyes narrowed in an almost lusty way. “Something very, very wicked, my bony friend!”

Sans snorted loudly. “Okay. You do you kiddo. But i’m watching.” The skeleton had the final say as he left the room with an objective in mind for once.

***

It was bright and sunny when the bear Banjo and his bird friend Kazooie (who was tucked away in his backpack) strode into the garden to look at the flowers and cool his mind. He had been there for a few minutes when he heard the sound of someone walking towards him. He turned around to see Sans strolling on the path, while absentmindedly looking around, until setting his eyes on Banjo and waving to get his attention.

Banjo waved back and hopped over to the skeleton. “Lovely day, isn’t, Sans?” He cheerily called out. Sans shrugged his trademark shrug. “Yeah, I could guess so.” He replied. “Guessing is all you can do with that thick skull of yours, hollow-head!” Kazooie crowed. Banjo slapped the breegull on the back while muttering a hushed “Kazooie!” reprimandingly and looked up. “I’m very sorry about that, Sans.” He apologized profusely. Sans shrugged once again. “Nah, it’s nothin kid. Besides, I need you to come with me. Apparently there’s one fighter we somehow never met. I was shocked myself when I first met him. He’s a real piece of work, that’s what I say.”

Banjo’s shocked expression turned into one of excitement. “Well where is he, Sans?” The bear asked. The skeleton chuckled. “He’s somewhere in the back halls. Here, i’ll take you to him.” Banjo nodded swiftly and excitedly as he walked behind Sans, who showed them the way.

Sans snickered silently as he led the way to, unknowingly to Banjo and Kazooie, their doom.

Mission accomplished.

***

The door to the storage room opened as Sans walked into it with Banjo and Kazooie behind him. The group looked around the place in confusion as they wondered where this missing fighter actually was. Sans scratched his head, despite how impossible it may seem. “Huh. That’s strange. I thought he would be here.”

“Why would he be in a storage closet?” Kazooie piped up. Sans said nothing as he used his telekinesis to shut and lock the door, much to Banjo and Kazooie’s surprise. Banjo turned over to Sans while Kazooie flew out of the bag and attempted in vain to open the door. “S-Sans! What are you doing!” He gasped out.

“Helping me, worm-face!” A mysterious voice boomed. The lights went brighter, enough to reveal the mysterious figure, a teenager with a coal black ankle-length tailcoat, along with a dark gray high-necked waistcoat, that was embellished with shimmering gold accents, ink-colored pants, brownish-black shoes with pointed tips, a pair of  bright red gloves, a black and white birdlike domino mask which drew attention to his eyes, which were blood red and almost glowing. The boy grinned as he descended from the top of the shelf, crimson eyes shimmering evily.

“Hey! Who are you?” Kazooie squawked loudly, obviously angry at being betrayed by Sans. The masked teenager smirked. “The name’s Ren. Ren Amamiya. But to all, I am known as Joker, the Phantom, the Trickster, and, hell, some even know me as Akira Kurusu, although Akira Kurusu is actually my middle name.” He cleared his throat. “But enough with that, I shall soon have my revenge, so you don’t need to hear my life story.”

Banjo tilted his head. “Revenge? On us? Why?” He asked in confusion. Joker shook his head. “Ever since you came here, nobody has talked to me, or even noticed that I was gone! Before you came along, I was loved and cherished by all! You stole everything from me!” He started to quiver with rage, and jealous, anger filled tears began to grow in his eyes as he lost more and more of his composure and began to be driven more and more by his own hatred. “And you’ll pay!” He growled. “You’ll pay for everything!” He snarled as he lunged straight for Banjo, whose eyes were wide and scared, and gripped him by his arms, claw-like fingers drawing blood from the frightened bear, eyes wide, insane, and flickering from blood red to silvery gray.

Kazooie then leapt onto Joker and started pecking at his hair, to which the phantom released Banjo and started scratching and clawing furiously at the freegull before finally hitting her hardly in the chest and watching her fly from his head to the ground in a crumpled mess. “Banjo…” She coughed weakly. “G-get out of here now…” Banjo shook his head and tried to run over to Kazooie, but tripped and fell over a bone which Sans conjured. The skeleton walked over and tied up the bear securely, so that he couldn’t escape while Joker did the same for Kazooie. The phantom thief crouched next to Kazooie and grinned. “I’m going to enjoy this a lot.” He taunted. Kazooie grimaced. “What are you going to do, scum-bag?” Joker brightened up, despite just being insulted. “This.” He said right before grabbing Kazooie and licking her beak. The breegull squawked in disgust as Joker licked her a second time before putting her head inside his mouth. Kazooie cawed and crowed as she attempted to escape Joker’s maw, but to no avail as Joker continued to swallow her whole until she was fully in his stomach chamber, making sure to remove the ropes binding the bird. Joker licked his lips and patted his bulging stomach contently, whereas Banjo looked the fighter in fear, for he had just watched Kazooie get eaten alive, by a teenage boy, no less! Banjo’s eyes widened and he gulped as Joker set his sights on the bear and started to walk in his direction. The phantom crouched, his distended belly sticking out. He tilted Banjo’s head up to his eye level. “You’re gonna be with her soon, so don’t worry about a thing.”

“Kinky.” Sans commented as Joker loosened the ropes on Banjo so that he could eat him easier. Joker then licked his nose, before putting his face inside his mouth and gulping and, despite the bear’s struggling, managed to swallow him whole as well. He fell to the floor huffing and puffing after he found out he was too heavy to move. Despite this, Joker was being washed over by a wave of euphoria that wasn’t about to end any time soon. He rubbed at his own stomach, not understanding why the hell he was so happy about it, but then it hit him: Banjo and Kazooie were at his mercy. If he decided not to lift a finger, they would both be converted into pudge on his figure, and he liked that. A whole fucking lot. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps he would try this on someone else. Maybe that meddlesome assist trophy Waluigi would be an ideal next target, for he was very, very annoying. Maybe.

[hannigramfanfic]

Hannibal Fanstory: “The Hunter and Child of the Lupin” Or “Kiss of a Lupin” or “Prince of Wolves - Vilku kunigaikstis

PROLOGUE

There is a Tale told by old Storytellers when fires are lit, and everyone is settled for the night about a Hunter from a distant land and a feral child of the Lupin he met one heavy winter in the lands of the North – where the Spirit of the that Forest, the Ravenstag dwells – when given a task by the vile King Mason Verger to find the child and kill it, while bringing him the head of the creature from Ancient times.

It is said Mason came into power by overthrowing the previous King – Jack Crawford – and his Queen – Bella or Phyliss – and it is unknown what happened to those kind people, because you dear Travellers who come to sit by my fire to hear this Tale have yet to hear how it all began.

Our Tale first begins in the land of Wolf-trap, Virginia where due to unforeseen consequences a pregnant woman bearing a child within her womb leaves behind a place where she was born and raised as behind her in the far distance a great fire burns the woodland causing animals living in it to run alongside her horse as the flames black out the skies.

Choking out a multitude of stars that shine like path and leaving yet only one shining in the sky – a bright single star that would change the child’s life within her womb as the legacy of Wolftrap dissolved in ash and wind.

————————— 

12 MONTHS LATER

Baltimore, Maryland – the former Kingdom of the Missing King Crawford

Despair.

Pestilence.

Starvation.

Depressed souls who head’s hang with the weight of oppression as Hannibal Lecter – Hunter, member of the Hunter’s Guild – and unknown to many in who he was in this country keeps the hood of his long cloak up as he walks through the muddy streets with his horse – Cersai – of Baltimore, Maryland remembering when it had been under King Crawford’s gentle rule.

The street had been a vibrant hive of activity: festivals, market stalls bursting with the hustle and bustle of market stallers shouting their wares to people in the streets, while children ran about with windmills and kites.

That was gone: in place now due to Mason taking reign the color and vibrancy had been drained to monochrome grey and inky black, while faces have become hardened like stone; children are weak and starving beg for scraps at what has now become Mason’s palace from the kitchens only to never get enough and adults have become suspicious of any stranger no matter where they came from.

Neighbor becomes pitted against neighbor, not trusting them at all for any help at all even when the Plague sickness comes and affects either both or one of them as Hannibal passes some Plague doctors standing near a Condemned house talking in whispers – like snakes slithering across each-other to keep warm – wearing the long white beaks like that of a crow or raven beak then turn their beaked gaze towards him.

Watching him walking up to King Verger’s castle, a grotesque building hewn from blood-red rock and spiked turrets where the remnants of people who displeased Mason Verger hang from indicating to all below if they disobeyed this was what would happen. Guards in armour patrolled the battlements.

Hearing the bellowing noise of large bull oxen’s and rumbling of a carriage makes him step out of the way with Cersai seeing, in fact, it is Slave Carriage bearing within poor, frightened souls bound in chains of iron and steel. Their heads hung down in dejection, while rags of cloth barely cover their modesty as it large wheels splash up the foul mud of that for centuries during Mason’s reign has had all manner of traffic go through it.

What makes his Inner Predator within Hannibal want to get rid of Mason if he weren’t controlled by the Hunter’s Code and Contract is the fact the prisoners that been in the Slave Carriage as it heads within the castle – were children. Some of them younger like his darling sister Mischa who been murdered in his homeland when he been only a child of 17 years of age by a rogue general who had overthrown his father – Lord Dvaras – had heard rumours about Mason having certain particular tastes and that was he liked young children – female or male even.

The three Plague Doctors, who have followed him he can sense are still watching him wondering why a foreign stranger has come to such a desolate bleak place where even the strange Plague, Hannibal had seen affecting people in other places he had travelled through and the grief it had brought countless families.

“Mister? Mister? Please any…. spare coins to spare?”

A small voice says, drawing him out of the haze he in and looking down sees it a group of orphaned urchins – their cheeks hollowed in by hunger; eyes bloodshot and bags under them; hair unkempt and unwashed as patchwork rags cover their modesty – and shakes his head at them, having his money pouch already stolen in another town he had passed through. Slapping down greedy hands when they reach for his crossbow on his back, plus dagger and sword hidden by his long cloak.

“Cease that. There not for children to play with. Understand me?” He chides them, making them resist what they are doing, and nod meekly followed by still staying close to him when suddenly a snide leering almost voice shouts at them “BEGONE YOU LITTLE VARMINTS!!! GET!! GO ON!!!” revealing to Hannibal’s displeasure another lacky of Mason’s – Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Captain of the Guards and downright leech-of-a-man – who kicks one the urchins out the way.

They met before, when the man had tried to join the Hunter’s Guild and now sneers at him even when Hannibal reaches into his saddle bag to pull out the Hunter’s Code and Contract – which all Hunter’s sweared to with a Blood oath – then spits heavily, managing to aim it close to Hannibal who just keeps a calm composure.

He couldn’t let the Inner Predator in him loose just yet.

It wasn’t the right……time for it.

————————————–

Now in the Household of the Verger Royal Family: there is Mason Verger, a vile man with no good soul in him causing more torment and ruining people lives than in actually helping them; there is his sister Lady Margot – a young woman of 35 years of age, who is also sadly one of those people that is tormented by her brother behind locked doors and wishes she could be free of him; while there is her Lady-in-waiting Alana Bloom – a simple country girl with strong heart and fierce loyalty to her mistress.

The servants are:  Peter Bernadone – a stable-lad who a cares for the horses for King Mason, though is strongly controlled by a sadistic Lord Clark Ingram; Francis Dolerhyde, the Blacksmith who fashions all the weapons and armour and stays with his adopted little blind girl of seven years of age Reba McClane – who’s father and mother are unknown as she was abandoned at early age and find by Francis as a baby among some bed of heather in the once fertile forests around Baltimore, Maryland; the scholar/ jesters of the Court are Brian Zeller, Beverly Katz and Jimmy Price who Mason uses when he puts on big parties to celebrate certain events and finally Lady Bedelia Du Maurier – rumoured to run the Brothel houses in the seediest parts of Baltimore, Maryland and is known as the Verger’s Tax Collector.

Hmm, yes?

Oh, you want to hear of what lies beyond this place.

Well that is…. the Northern land as far as the crow can fly to it or a horse can travel to it. Not that I’ve tried to travel there myself.

Tall mountain-scapes of tall-peaked mountains dusted with coatings of fine, crisp snow and swathes of large coniferous and deciduous trees that spread outwards to reach to them and waterfalls made from glaciers tumble downwards to form meandering rivers that spread across the strange land like arteries of a giant’s arm and gentle, bubbling streams or of becoming just deep pools of gleaming water that waterfalls just endlessly pour into them.

Autumn there brings a multi-hue of soft oranges, yellows, reds and lilacs and wildlife is ever abundant from all creatures great and small, while Ancient Text tells of how large Beast Gods roamed the forest and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – watched over all.

It is said the creature possesses the body of a stag, a coat of lustrous Raven’s feathers and a thicket of antler’s that are larger a normal stag’s antlers.

But that is only myth told from the Ancient Text as no-one has ever seen this creature described and yet, it is what Mason fears for some reason.

You ask me why?

It is believed because of Prophesy told to him by a mysterious cloaked figure wearing robes of sea bluish-green and holding a stuff, bearing the carving of Raven that is why. And hear is thus:

Neither Human or even a man

When the Crescent moon doth shine and become full

Turning crimson like spilled blood in the inky, black sky

Come will something that will tear and ravage you asunder

It will break your stone you surround yourself with

Bellow out it’s war cry like the horn of a Carnyx

And pierce you to the very throne you defiled

Beware the golden eyes in the night.

Now that I have started off this Tale, let’s us travel to another place – the Northern Land where we will shall find out what happened to the young man from the Wolftrap Legacy that many had believed had faded into the histories of time to be forgotten for eternity.

 PART 1

A multitude of stars shines brightly in the night-sky, while under the canopy of tall coniferous trees bearing on their fir branches white, undisturbed snow and on a perch of a half-destroyed old tree – that had been hit by lightning – sweeps off into the night on silent wings.

A ghostly white shadow among the inky blackness, while slowly golden eyes appear from the gloom as they step slowly into the moonlight now streaming through the canopy above – a pack of wolves, a family.

There is a difference – on the back of one of the Mother Alpha Wolf – last of the remaining Ancient Beasts of the Wolf Clan – is a young man, gripping her fur mixed with silvery highlights.

While in front, keeping an eye out for dangers are his wolf-brother’s – three of them – and his Wolf-sister, who walks close by. Their names in Ancient are stated thus: Murasaki Kushina – the Alpha Mother, remaining Ancient Beast of the Wolf Clan; daughter Murasaki Chiyoh; and the three sons Murasaki Ashisaki, Keito and Hiharo.

They are Will’s family, after his mother Lady Cassia - Othelia who had given birth to him in this forest one heavy winter night soon afterwards weakened by hunger and trying to survive while grieving the loss of her husband – Lord Orilivano – who unknown to her at the time of when he been a small child had been bitten by rogue Wolf – so passing on the curse onto his only son – Will.

Will knows nothing of his heritage or even where he comes from. He believes his real mother is Murasaki Kushina and knows nothing of what the birthmark on his shoulder means.

“O’kaasan, where are we going?” He asks her in the language of the Wolves – that she had taught him, and she answers in her deep soft voice. “It’s a surprise, my dear little one.”

Will smiles at that. Being with his Wolf-mother, brothers and sisters he knows nothing of the Human beyond the forest he was born in and has not seen another human ever in his life.

His real mother unbeknownst to him is buried in wooden glade, where only the Spirit of the Forest – The Ravenstag – knows where. He remembers one autumn with the leaves spiralling and dancing down onto the forest floor he seen the beautiful creature with a lustrous coat of raven’s feathers ruffling gently in the breeze as it grazed with some deer then it was gone.

Chiyoh, who had gone off soon comes up beside and hands him a branch bearing some succulent edible berries from a winter food storage hole that been made last winter and taking it with one hand, scratches her behind her ear to thank her for it.

Keito – the second youngest of Murasaki Kushina’s Wolf cubs about the same age as Will – comes up, nipping her ear playfully soon making them both bound forwards in front of the others, making Will laugh happily at the sight in front of him.

If only he knew at the time in the Kingdom of Mason Verger, a Hunter would soon be arriving in the forest he lived in and would change his life forever.

  The mountain-passes that separate the Kingdom of Mason Verger from the Northern Forest, where the Ravenstag is to dwell is a Border pass patrolled by four guards – Tobias Budge, Matthew Brown, Abel Gideon and the reluctant Frederick Chilton – who control who goes through to the other side.

Coming up the carved path in the mountainside, while heavy rain falls down causing some parts of the cliff-face to become waterfalls of murky water that tumble down into the misty abyss below, he sees a Raven flying overhead – it’s beady gaze looking down at him – and continuing head up the path, soon sees a groove hollowed by years of intense weathering going over it until it finally hollowed out a pass.

During King Crawford’s reign with his kind permission people could come and go often escorted by himself and the Queen to show the beautiful land beyond the pass then it all changed when King Mason Verger took control and changed the rule so that only a handle of people he chose could enter the pass if they were acceptable and reliable in the tasks he gave them.

Slipping off the horse, he heads to stone-carved hut shaped like large dome to within, where Frederick Chilton – one of the four Border Pass Guards who rather be somewhere else – lifts his head up from making notes to see who has come in then takes the Sealed Pass signed by King Mason from Hannibal.

Hannibal lowering his hood of his long cloak, heads back over to his horse to check she is alright at the sametime the other three Border Pass guards appear, coming into the large stone-carved dome wearing hides of animals to disguise their scent from when they go through the pass and hunt in the land beyond it.

“Chilton, who is this Silver-fox of a foreigner?” One of them – Abel Gideon – a rude, boorish brute of man wishing like Chilton to be somewhere else – like for example the whorehouses of sin, greed and lust rumoured to be run by Lady Bedelia Du Maurier.

“A Hunter, dear Gideon. He has been given a Border Pass by King Verger to enter that accursed land.” Another man speaks – Tobias Budge, once a former member of the Hunter’s Guild until leaving for unknown reasons – who know considered Hunters like Hannibal to be just worthless scum in it for the money they would get from the job.

Hannibal notices the third Border Pass guard is a young man, with his hands crossed over his chest while leaning nonchantly against the stone-carved dome wall with one leg up on it watching him with certain look. He would have to keep an eye out on this one. Something about the gaze indicated a hidden personality the other three men didn’t know about and was something Hannibal had experience with

Having a hidden personality of his own.

  It is in the middle of the night, the rain has ceased outside until leaving only pools of water on the ground in some places as Hannibal silently leaves behind the four sleeping Border Pass Guards and heads quietly to the Pass, where for the moment he soon swears he sees ghostly figure of a child – looking almost like his darling sister Mischa – then getting up into the saddle of his horse, indicates with soft click of his tongue for it to start going through the pass.

It is eerily quiet, with the wind-weathered pass looking like it is leaning in towards any travellers who come into the Pass then finally he reaches the other side to come upon a sight that has been untouched ever since Mason’s reign: large swathes of coniferous and deciduous trees spreading outwards towards towering mountains that jut out like sharp ragged teeth in the clouds of mist that surround them.

A strange sense of calm descends on Hannibal. Never has he seen such a pristine, beautiful place where Humans who once remember King Crawford’s gentle rule now fear to tread in case they incur the wrath of the now King Mason.

Slowly he begins to descend the carved path leading to the very bottom of the valley where the Ancient Beasts were still rumoured to roam and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – was said to dwell.

  “O’kaasan, what’s wrong?” Will asks, when Murasaki Kushina comes to halt at the large river – Kahaku – where glacial boulders covered in moss, lichen and tiny moths lay within the refreshing water that comes from the mountains in the far distance.

“Man!!!? We must leave!!!?” Come my children.” She replies to him, while Will finds himself gripping her fur more tightly and looks around at the trees that cover both sides of the large flowing river that goes through the forest and out towards the ocean.

Listening attentively, Will uses his special skill he had to block out all other noises and slips his eyes close to immerse himself fully. He soon hears a steady heartbeat coming from the “Man” as the strange creature his O’kaasan had called the strange creature.

He wondered:

Why had they come here to where he lived?

What purpose had brought them here?

Warning growls - bring him out of those internal questions - coming from his other siblings, making him shoot his eyes open seeing watching through some gaps of broken trees that have fallen into the large river at some point.

Until it managed to build a dam of sorts. The “Man” who soon moves from his watching point, gets up onto the broken branches and clambering over them begins to wade through the water towards them until stopping in the middle of the large river.

“Speak Human. You have come into our Forest with some purpose. Why?” Will hears his O’kaasan growling with her fangs bared in warning, while he slips off her back and keeps close to her.

Noticing how the strange “Man’s” maroon eyes stare at him – like they could stare deeply into his soul – and before he even is thinking he is front of them, while they stay still as he starts to pad around them.

Inhaling every mixture of scent coming from the strange “Man” - all unrecognisable and unidentifiable – then bringing his hands up to their shoulders, pushes the strange creature to kneel on both knees so their eye-level.

  Hannibal now kneeling on both his knees in the water of the large river, stays still when the young man – no doubt in his mind the remaining heir of the Wolftrap Legacy – leans close to his cheek inhaling deeply with curiosity at what is he to them.

He knows if he makes a wrong move, four wolves and a one of them an Ancient Beast described in Ancient Texts saying to have existed in this forest, could easily tear him to a bloodied mess.

Keeping his hands still by resting them on his lap, Hannibal doesn’t even flinch when a moist, warm tongue licks his ear to test his reaction and moves to the other – almost like the young man is starting to scent-mark him – then pulls back slightly giving him a look that means he must reciprocate.

Leaning close to the young man’s ear, he brings out his tongue to lick softly – wishing deep also he could take hold of the young man, but he doesn’t – and when finishes scent-marking the other in the way he been indicated then goes back to staying still to feel his cheeks grabbed hold of.

This forces him to tilt his head backwards, where soon sharp teeth or fangs – he can’t tell just yet – bite into his skin – not tearing but marking – drawing some blood as the action of it makes him gasp breathlessly.

Feeling his eyes flutter close, his hands come nearly up to take hold of the young man when a twig snapping underfoot breaks the gentle peace and calm and lowering his head after feeling he is suddenly his now alone sees the young man and the Wolves have left.

Another presence though makes him turn his face to look down the large river, seeing a sight he would never forget even until his and the young man’s tale had faded into history.

A lustrous coat made of Raven’s feathers, gleaming in the soft moonlight from above and antlers that seem to Hannibal’s mind extend to the very heavens then it tilts it’s head backwards bellowing heavily. It’s breath rising like fine mist into the cold, night air.

PART 2

After finding a large hollow of a giant tree that has managed over years of growing in cliff-face until it’s large roots within have hollowed out some form of cave, Hannibal now sits up against one of large roots, twisted slightly as the tree which had been growing searched for water and nutrients.

On the cave wall are Ancient Markings of Forebearers who once in Ancient Times had lived in the forest with harmony with the Ancient Beasts illuminated by the makeshift fire he has made, while on makeshift some meat – rabbit – is being slowly roasted on a makeshift spit made from twigs.

He is calmly sketching with some charcoal a drawing of the young man with the wolves he had met – paying attention to the soft details of the youthful face and soft kissable lips – into an old drawing paper sketchpad and smiles softly when he senses a presence entering the cave.

Hannibal knows who it is and finishing off the final touches, gently closes the sketchpad to place it to one side then reaching forwards turns the makeshift spit so the meat is thoroughly cooked hearing the young man pad up to him.

Lowering his hands to his lap, after doing that task he turns slightly to face the young man with sea bluish-green eyes – deep pools of that colour that remind him of clear pools of water with sunlight filtering down from canopy of trees to shine down on them – curious and intrigued in what will happen next.

The young man still on his hands and knees, while wearing a lace white tunic of sorts and black breeches – which must have been stolen to make what he wears now – reaches for one of Hannibal’s hands. Taking hold of it, while he forgets how to breathe at the feel of tempting kissable lips brush against his wrist’s pulse followed by hint of fangs.

“Something wrong, my Love?”  He asks, before he can correct himself because they’re not Lovers and yet, he couldn’t deny the attraction he was starting to develop for this feral Wolf-Child with curly-brown locks and something else within him he just couldn’t explain what.

“No, just the way you look at me.” The young man replies to him, lifting his head with his eyes closed at first, while stilling holding Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal finds himself stroking the young man’s delicate cheekbone with feather light touches.

This makes the young man flutter his eyes open, revealing those beautiful eyes when he goes to move his hand away to sort the makeshift spit, so the meat doesn’t burn scorching him with such heat from that look, Hannibal can feel himself slowly becoming aroused then composes himself only just, asks the question.

“How do I look to you?” making the young man smile at him, replying with “As if you were deciding whether or not to eat me. Not that I’m adverse to the idea.” then goes back to nuzzling Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal starts to feel conflicted by what has been said to him.

It was true, he had a darker side to after tortured in his own homeland by the rogue General – Vladimir Grutas – who overthrown his father and in front of his very young eyes at 17 years of age had taken his little baby sister away, while Gruta’s men took great relish and pleasure in violating his body again and again until he been forced to accept he would starve if he did not eat the food they gave him.

Then to his ultimate horror happened to him, they brought him food and due to his weakened state Hannibal had eaten it then afterwards had discovered the food had been his own sister – slaughtered for meat.

Anger had risen in him, while he soon killed the men who had murdered his sister and as the years went by when he travelled to the land King Mason owned after overthrowing King Crawford in the shadows of alleyways and underground caverns he was given another name “The Chesapeake Ripper” - based on the mythological monster the Wendigo from Ancient Texts who ate the flesh of man.

Coming out of the harsh, cold memory he locks it away in the oubliettes of his Mind Palace and slips his hand away to check the meat on the makeshift spit – finding it is ready to eat – then taking it off the holder, rips some of the meat off and holds it out to the young man.

Sea bluish-green eyes flick to the meat and to him than back to the meat, while Hannibal sighs softly and states. “It’s not poisoned. See.” tearing the meat piece in two then eating it to show to the young man it is only rabbit meat with some wild rosemary he found growing near the cave sprinkled on top.

The young man leans upwards though taking the other half of the meat from his fingers and placing it in his mouth soon presses his lips against Hannibal’s causing him to stiffen slightly then fully relaxing, opens his mouth as the meat is soon shared between them through their mouth’s.

He finds himself starting to breathe heavily through both his nostrils, changing position each time when a warm, moist tongue laps against his and starts to entwine as they keep on eating the rabbit meat between themselves then before he is even thinking of what he is doing, Hannibal has soon pinned the feral Wolf-child to the cave floor on his blanket – he had laid out from his traveling kit - and yet, keeps his hands either side of the young man’s head.

Both are breathing heavily, while he can feel soft hands start to unlace his clothes and pulls back heavily only to soon arch slightly with a breathless hitched gasp when feels the young man leans up to bite one of his nipples through the fabric of his crème-white tunic at the sametime twisting the other nipple, so it rises and peaks under those ministrations.

His hands begin to scar into the cave floor slightly as he un-arches his back and leans over the young man still gasping breathlessly as between his thighs in the confines of breeches, Hannibal can feel the tightening pressure indicating he is slowly becoming aroused and needs to release it one way or another then moves his head back down to kiss the young man again, needing to distract himself from it.

A hand clawing down his shoulder – sharp and lethal feeling to his skin – causes him to groan heavily in machoistic pleasure as it draws some blood in the process, while a sly soft hand soon slips between his thighs to cup him through his breeches heavily and starts to unlace him teasingly slow it makes move his lips away to pant heavily in the young man’s ear.

“If…. you don’t hurry. I won’t last much longer.”

“Don’t worry….I plan to extend this for very long indeed, Hunter.”

“Not….haaa….You wee minx!!!?….not Hunter, but Hannibal.”

“Hannibal….….hmm…then evidently I should tell you mine.”

“Yes…. ahhh!!…Oh, there, you wee minx!!!”

“Will, my name is Will.”

Hannibal wonders how long he can last, while Will now slips downwards, and he find himself flinging his head backwards crying out heavily when he finds himself swallowed down into moist, hot mouth then slipping his hands downwards grips the young man’s head to hold it closer to his groin, watching the sleek curly brown head start to bob back and forth between his thighs.

His mouth agape, he finds himself fisting his hands into the blanket for support as slick, slurp noises and breathless moans, gasps, pants and whimpers fill the cave then he tenses heavily, heart pounding heavily against ribcage feeling himself cup the young man’s cheek to stroke it as the sinful moist, hot mouth swallows down his release.

Soon Hannibal falls backwards to land slightly on the tree root and his travelling pack then whimpers from overstimulation when he is forced to experience another orgasm, while the young man has managed to slip his clothes off fully leaving him only in his crème-white tunic and lace breeches wide open to fully expose him.

“Enough…. Will…Enough!!!……I…want you!!” He gasps out, chest heaving heavily with laboured gasps making the young man raise his head, some remnants of Hannibal’s seed still on his lips and crawls up to him to look at him.

“You want….me?”

“Is that so much to ask of you?”

“No…..I want you as well, Hannibal. I want you…..as my….Mate.”

TO BE CONTINUED

For  @vintagefloof, @amatesura, @avidreadr2004, @crazystaglady, @hannigramfanfics and all the rest of the Fannibals out there. Here is the fic I have been working on… finally arrived. Enjoy. 

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep4: Pharaoh Kitsch

Ah, I just found out what happens when you put a quesadilla in an air fryer (it was still delicious but looked a lot like modern art) So now that nothing else can possibly surprise me today lets go over to Yugioh. Bear in mind, I am still sick as a dog and my brain only recently came out of a pretty intense fog so I think this recap makes sense but it might not. Which is on brand for this show so wtv.

Tea went to hell recently. She’s still kicking. But, unfortunately in hell.

Yugi’s still getting harassed by a swamp person who can’t stop talking about how good he is at Business.

I’ll be honest I’ve been on dates with guys professing to be Business experts (they’re not) where I basically wanted to lie on the ground exactly like this mid conversation in the middle of the damn restaurant.

So anyways, it’s this episode where Pharaoh decides to try something new. Mostly it’s because he had only a limited number of cards to choose from but also because it’s everyone’s favorite kitschy thing that I guess is back in fashion again that’s right it’s a rainbow.

This sounded like a joke on the show but I was just me talking to myself in this last blurb. *long, exasperated sigh*

(read more under the cut)

Anyways I just deleted about 4 or 5 different art rants (I’m pretty sure it was like 11 rants actually, I get pissssssed when I’m on Dayquil) where I pretty much snapped about trends, and it went way off topic. Apparently Dayquil me is just like up in arms about the neon 80′s pink rainbow unicorn trend that was super fun for a little while, but it’s been like 6 years and it’s *still here* and it’s like guys, while I was super down 6 years ago, now I am 30. Do any marketers out there even know how old millennials are supposed to be?

Anyway, before obsessive bad marketing happened and rainbows became a meme to comfort us in these hard times, rainbows used to be out of fashion when this episode aired in 2001. Just bear that in mind if you are a baby in the room and you think unicorn stuff everywhere is normal, it didn’t used to be. It used to be wearing multiple belts was normal and dying your bangs blonde and then parting them aloft and to the side, only allowing your freshly dyed hair to touch water maybe once a week. The cover “Mad World” just came out on the radio and we listened to it unironically. So Pharaoh using a rainbow was supposed to be a joke. Not like...a mundane thing we wouldn’t blink twice at in 2019 because rainbows are freakin everywhere.

And I should clarify that I’m referring to the the hyper cute Lisa Frank Revival. Not about how rainbows are a political symbol since the 90′s--that’s fine--that’s always been a thing, and I’m not docking the actual use of a rainbow both as a pride flag and as a Hawaiian license plate. I’m docking the market saturation of rainbows aimed at the five adults who can wear this stuff and still go to work somehow.

Anyway, a lot of Yugi’s duel is centered around Gansly making fun of his cute ass Kuriboh and saying it was too adorable to ever be effective so now I guess Pharaoh has decided to destroy the hell out of Gansly with a rainbow to get his revenge and to get his point across. Which is very Pharaoh of him despite the fact that this card is the opposite of Pharaoh’s entire emo/alt-rock aesthetic. Pharaoh just really needs to get in the last word always.

We get some more vignettes of what everyone else is up to and I gotta say they made a great use of Joey.

Photoreal penguin sure asked a lot out of me. My brother on the other hand who freakin loves penguins was like “THIS IS THE BEST.” and I was like “but how did the penguin pick up a ROPE?” and he was like “shshshshshhh don’t ruin penguin for me!”

I guess using it’s beak? Or maybe there’s little human fingers on one of it’s little flipper wings?

Anyways, the Kaibas have recovered from their orphanage/falling off of a cliff episode and are back to arguing in the way where Mokuba kind of lectures/begs his older brother and Kaiba goes “hhhrhhghghhhhh”

Mokuba is also just going off about whether or not Seto was a good parent. He’s not. Seto is a terrible parent, and I am shocked that Mokuba is still surprised by this. Seto is a freakin child, but hey I guess Seto is better than a war criminal?

Mokuba just expects a lot out of Seto Kaiba. Over the course of this show, it’s becoming apparent that Mokuba is slowly starting to see the cracks in his older brother, I’m just surprised at how long it’s taking Mokuba to figure out that his brother has not just cracks but is spilling out basically everywhere and getting everyone they know possibly killed in the process. Most likely Duke Devlin. Still shocked Duke Devlin is still alive.

Mokuba’s not quite there yet, he’s still holding out. He’s still trying to reason with this kid who is flying a blimp onto an island he once blew up like a James Bond villain so he can play a bunch of cards on it. Mokuba’s...pretty delusional, but I guess so are all Kaibas.

On the other side of town, Yugi decided he was kind of feeling bad about Pharaoh falling repeatedly on his own face. Which is also Yugi’s face. But also neither of their actual face since this is entirely in VR.

Nothing was even fired at Yugi’s direction. He didn’t even get a chance to like...reach for his cards. He was just like “Oh damn never mind oh damn.”

Like all the rest of these characters seem like they still function pretty good at like 400 HP but Yugi is just out at like 1200 it feels like. Shouldn’t it be you can play until you hit 0? Not like it matters since Yami would just take over anyway.

On the other side of town Tea is rewriting memories with characters who were absolutely not here for this moment in S1.

Could be that Tea has finally decided to recognize Duke and Serenity into the fold as much as Tristan, Joey and Yugi, or it could be that her memories are so freakin borked from S1 Pharaoh’s mind wipes, that she actually legitimately thinks both were there.

Funnily enough, she did not add Bakura to this memory. Whenever any other friend has had a vision where their buddies rallied them on, Bakura has always been included, but not this time. Nice. Maybe Tea is the only person who has figured out Bakura ≠ friend. Or maybe Bakura was just straight up written out of everyone’s memories when he died? Hell knows, the show still hasn’t talked about it. Bakura hella died, and no one has even talked about it. Of course no one is really next to each other at the moment so fine, I’ll let it pass.

Anyway, she decides to use this opportunity to prep for the upcoming Ironman challenge that I’m pretty sure she does once a year.

There she goes, on her way to probably save Mokuba’s ass with her own ass, yet again. Tea and her weird strength. I have no idea where she stores it. I have no idea where it comes from. But Tea is like some sort of primal force of nature and she rarely ever uses it.

And then..........this happened.

And then a purple horse with a scantily clad knight on it crosses this bridge to stab the fishman in the heart-it was a lot of unexpected stuff, guys. Again, completely normal for 2019. I could probably get a shirt with a rainbow and a unicorn with a knight on it from like...Target.

Oh My Oh My I just typed “unicorn on rainbow shirt target” into google and one of the first thing that popped up was a shirt with a chibi rainbow unicorn dabbing. My eyes. There were so many search results. Freakin dabbing. This particular shirt is clearly for children and not for 30′s but man I know like 6 people my age who probably already own this shirt.

Anyway, my apologies to all the fans of this fad, this is your time to shine, make the most of it, you are all valid and it is fine to love what you love. We all like different things. I’ll be here in my corner eagerly waiting for this fad to mercifully end so I can finally go back to the Tim Burton wannabe illustrator I used to be before I had to adapt to the hyper cute phase we’re in right now. I mean you have to humbly deal with the cards you’re given, and sometimes that means you have to draw some rainbows both in cards and also in actual drawings.

Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

So, when Noah realizes he can’t exactly beat Yugi with cards he reaches for this instead:

And guys, Yugi doesn’t even hesitate.

Like remember how Pharaoh walked straight into a creepy clown tent and shoved himself into a little tiny box in a dark room and got hellllla abducted in less than 2 minutes? It is SO EASY to abduct Yugi Muto. In fact, on seeing this magic door appear, Yugi even told Pharaoh “that’s a trap” and Pharaoh was like “that is a trap” and they both were like “I see no other options.”

When it’s like, Yugi, you are OUTSIDE. There’s no walls here--you could go literally anywhere else but the door.

But WTV, it’s Yugi logic.