#The urge is /violently/ strong for Party Animal but like

[libertys-lovers]

LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I’M TRYING TO DESIGN NEW SONAS!!!

—

(You should redesign Freedom again)

AHH-!

—

(In fact, you should redesign all of your sonas again, not just the ones on your schedules)

AAAHHHH-!!!

[spideysgeorg]

Ok we’re doing some Hobie hcs bc we need some good food around here. Tw for past abuse, sexual abuse (not on him), mentioned pet death, foster care, dystopian themes, drug use

Hobie is technically a missing person. He escaped from an abusive foster home when he was 12 and was unhoused for most of his adolescence.

He does actually own the crappy boat he lives in, only because it was given to him by an older unhoused friend who had gotten it on the cheap and had been trying to convert it into a permanent home but sadly died before it was fully finished. Hobie finished the conversion himself and has lived there since, largely undetected except by the select few people he wants to be able to find him.

He loves children and animals and is extremely good with them. He never baby talks to actual babies/little kids but hand him a kitten and he gets all mushy lol

He doesn’t eat meat because despite very much enjoying killing fascists, the PM’s smashed head looked like mince and he thinks about it all the time. He has absolutely no trouble shedding blood and guts but a bloody steak will make him straight up gag. He eats fish tho

His boat has a clan of “feral” cats that wait around on the deck for him to come home bc he feeds them even if he doesn’t have enough for himself. It’s a little bit dangerous to always have a NYAAAAAA alarm any time the cats hear him web sling in but he refuses to shoo them away. They aren’t technically his cats but when one of them dies he has to hide how torn up he is about it (because cats are smaller and more innocent and more trusting and more free than he can ever be)

He struggled with opiate addiction from a severe depression he went through during the period of time when he stopped being Spider-Man. He got clean and has stayed away from pills since (he won’t even take paracetamol) but smokes weed he grows himself in a closet to curb persisting urges. Also cigarettes. He tries not to overdo it with booze either but isn’t always successful. (If you don’t know about him having the Sam Raimi Spider-Man 2 quitting canon event, it’s in the web of life and destiny scene where all of them are looking at their respective canon events)

Hobie is extremely compassionate and it affects the way he does his work as Spider-Man. He allows certain things to happen that other Spideys wouldn’t and he’s vocally in opposition to the other Spideys’ brutalization of people committing crimes of desperation. He believes that crimes like theft are a symptom of a greater societal disease. He’ll interject in instances of violent robbery or mugging and things like that but only to ensure that the victims are safe, then determine the root cause of the attack and try to offer the perpetrator some direction. Sometimes the cause is hunger, addiction, or another unmet need. Hobie is much more willing to help them with that than have them thrown in prison. He doesn’t do that with rapists though, he kills those on sight. 🖤

Hobie has trained himself to look casual even though he’s always struggling with hyper-vigilance. He knows he doesn’t even need to keep that close attention on everything—that’s what spider senses are for—but he still takes note of all exits in a building, takes the seat against the wall, and analyzes the body language of everybody he sees for potential danger.

He’s also very emotionally intelligent. While he doesn’t show strong emotions outside of his Spider-Man persona very often, if ever, he can read everybody else’s without them even knowing and act accordingly. Sometimes he does this to prevent conflict, and other times he does it to cause conflict lol

He hasn’t cried in years but doesn’t consider that to be a “win” because sometimes he needs to cry to vent the extraordinary pressure of his place in the world and just can’t. His music is essential to keep him from completely spiraling since he has no other form of release.

He’s all for sexual liberation and consensual parties doing whatever they want. However, he doesn’t do casual sex himself. He needs to really bond with someone before he even wants to get intimate like that with anyone. This can be a problem because despite having quite a large social circle, he feels emotionally isolated in the same way that Gwen does, scared to bring anyone too close for fear of getting them killed.

His attraction and gender expression are pretty up in the air, though he doesn’t identify as trans and keeps he/him pronouns. His stance is that all that shit about gender norms was made up a long time ago and forced on everybody else and he’ll be damned if he lives out somebody else’s plan for his life.

Hobie is a singer in the same sense that cereal is technically a soup. He’s lucky his guitar skills are crazy bc his vocal range is really limited. Punk music works out for him like that—he doesn’t have to actually sing well for it to sound good. He actually likes all kinds of music but punk is the one he’s most comfortable actually performing.

He takes extremely good care of his hair and makes most of his body care/cosmetics himself because the cosmetics industry is indescribably evil. If he HAS to buy product, he only gets from black owned sources. Otherwise he mostly steals drug store lipstick and nail polish or calls dibs when his friends do their bi yearly dumping of their crusty purses and all the half-crushed expired makeup falls out with the crumbs and loose aspirin tablets lmao

[elkenbulwark]

HC collection dump://

"birvor" is a human name given to him by the human tribe he was born into. It is a play on the word "fervor" (to boil/glow) and "bir" (a strong, favorable wind.) Whereas "cragdew" is the surname of the high elf family he was raised into; a standard nature based name commonly found in the Arvandor origin they left to migrate to the bureaucratic division of high city in Baldurs gate.

Half orcs are typically disregarded by both halves that make their whole, either being seen as too violent by the non orc side and as too weak by the orc side. However, he experienced neither side directly as he was raised from an early age in elven culture. This is primarily why he has abilities such as 'talk to animals', musical knowledge, and a higher charisma than one might expect from his breed. Even so, he is still prone to being too rough in a 'doesn't know his own strength' manner outside of the roughhousing expected of him to keep his brother out of harm's way.

The Cragdews bought him with full intent to have him ready to take with them to Baldur's Gate as a body guard for their son knowing just how wretched a city it was in terms of crime. They branded him as their property on his brow with elven word that roughly translates to: keeper

He has no sense of personal space considering his only job is to watch his brother. In a 'not against following someone into a one stalled bathroom' kind of way.

Given his race and class, he is usually the slow one in the group and because he's too impatient to wait for a ladder or cliff to be free for him to start up or down, he defaults to jumping up or down most drops even if he ends up prone for as much time as it takes the others in his party to join him had he just waited.

His higher charisma is used mainly in succeeding intimidation checks. However, despite having a predisposition over intimidating others thanks to the fierce features that most half orcs possess, his 'sheltered compared to being raised in the wilds with barbarian humans or orcs' disposition often lends itself to some unintended charisma - namely looking too dumb and innocent to desire causing him harm while he's off guard and not expecting a fight from someone he thinks a friendly face. (Nettie did not scratch him even when he failed all his perception checks - example.)

Orc/half orc urges can come up along the journey he's on without him really noticing how much he enjoys himself when leaning into said urges. He never would have openly thought that severed body parts found along the road were fun to throw at enemies until his brother hit him in the head with one and started a 'food fight' with him...but with body parts.

No longer subservient to the family the absolute slaughtered, he still has trouble with figuring out how to proceed without continuing to watch over his brother, albeit- at a slowly increasing tether as they travel with new companions. He even gets a little more rough with him- shoving him off short cliffs and the like for fun as if they were both free to indulge in a more orcish sibling rivalry. However, he can quickly turn back to a smothering and stern approach if he senses danger headed their way.

[coffee-or-murder]

For the list of 69 questions, for whichever three seem like they'd be fun for this set: 2, 11, 25, 38, and 55~~~

This one almost didn't fit lol. I got a bit rambly.

Three characters 

2 - What was your original concept for this character? How did playing them change that concept?

Lemon - So when I was invited to the group I really wasn’t sure what to play, just that I knew I wanted to play a caster. The very first concept for Lemon was a wizard developing spells to help her bake, but when I found out we had a wizard and a druid someone suggested I complete the circle of caster nerds as a knowledge cleric! Then Lemon was added to the Bakhouzin family, which I’d been developing off and on for roughly two or so years by that point. Originally she wasn’t going to have anything to do with the Family Business, but after sitting on it I thought it was weird she wouldn’t be affected by it at all, and the original thought I had for her to leave home didn’t work as well. So instead of leaving home to discover new recipes to impress her family, she was sent away for her safety after her mother shoved her into an arranged marriage. Lemon was also supposed to be much more mischievous right off the bat, but after thinking of her emotional issues that got scrapped until she’s more secure in her position with the team.  

Laura-  A sassy NPC who no one would remember, but then Vaska got attached and now she’s my most adjusted character with the most bonker’s parents. Daughter of a bard who owns a seaside tavern and The Great Dread, a shark/angler fish dread wave mistresses. Her husband lovingly calls her Katherine, Katy, My dearest love, etc. Laura’s parents are so sappy. She still doesn’t have a class yet, but I think she would be a sorcerer/warlock!

Amaryllis - So she originally was traveling out of her home country to make a name for herself so her noble mother would claim her and she wouldn’t be a bastard anymore. In the oneshot she was attentive, curious, and only picked one fight with a rude captain who shouldn’t have been in charge of anything. Playing her that way made me realize she would be much better suited as a hero turned villain with a redemption arc. So The Lion Empress was born! Upon returning from attempting to make a name for herself, she survived a murder attempt by her mother and the other higher ups in her family, and started a violent military takeover against the corrupt nobility :D Now she reigns as The Lion Empress, working to weed out the corrupt nobles, protect the people, and somehow find a way to transfer power without the country collapsing around them.  

11 - If they have a pet or animal companion, how do they spend time with them? If they don’t have one, what sort of animal would they be interested in raising, if any? 

Lemon - She wants one so bad and was very tempted to try to argue to keep a mimic, but the party all seemed pretty strongly against it so she didn’t push. Lemon would be too worried about keeping a pet alive in the field, so currently she’s leaning towards finding a way to get a familiar so she can have a flying snake friend. The noodle would be cuddled and worn under her scarf, fed bits of food, and she’d share snark with them about things she notices but are worried the party wouldn’t like her snarking about. . 

Laura - She would love to snuggle with a ship cat, but something about her tends to make animals a little nervous. Maybe it’s the teeth? Other than that she doesn’t have a strong urge either way! Pup is enough of a responsibility for her. 

Amaryllis - As a child she wanted a pet griffin, because she’d settled on the idea from reading tales of old knights that she should have an animal companion tied to heraldry. Now she doesn’t have time for a pet, let alone something that outlandish. Instead she visits her father and pets his dog or spends time in the stables with the horses. Overall she still prefers her plants to animals. 

25 - Who is their best friend? 

Lemon - Coyote was her first friend, and Blair and Adja were practically her little siblings, but Tadhgan held the honor of Best Friend for a long time even with all the attempts at flirting. Lemon made up her mind early on she wouldn’t lose him as a friend because he was too important to lose, but that didn’t stop her from getting butterflies anytime they lingered a bit. 

Laura - Within the oneshot she was played in Felix! He’s a human fighter and a bit of an asshole, but honestly her best friend on the ship. She loses to him at Pearl in the Deep a lot, and they tease each other over nearly everything. 

Amaryllis - Zadok hands down. They have seniority over any friendship she may make later in life. They met as children, before they turned 9, and have been inseparable ever since. They became her most trusted general and right hand when she took the throne. 

38 - Do they see themselves as an important part of their party? 

Lemon - That is a complicated answer, the short version is “no but maybe sometimes”. She’s pretty sure the party would do just fine without her in basically everything, but how much of that is her own self worth issues and how much is based in any fact is up for debate. But please don’t debate her she might cry

Laura - As one of the ship’s medics and one of the best at tying knots? Absolutely she’s important. Also who else would keep Felix from being an actual asshole? She’s good for ship morale!

Amaryllis - As empress she recognizes her worth as a piece in the larger political game. This does not stop her from creating plans on how to handle various situations if she were to die, or be killed in battle, or assassinated, or if removing her from power would lead to a more secure future for the people and those she loves.  

55 - They’re seeing their greatest wish come true–what’s happening? 

Lemon - Her mother disappeared under mysterious circumstances before her engagement. No one questions it. There was no contract. Uncle Benji starts to talk about moving her in with him or letting her keep the house but lo and behold, her father comes home. He explains why he left, and Lemon actually thinks it was for good reason instead of what she suspects is just an excuse not to be around his failure of a marriage and useless daughter  and it takes awhile but they figure out where they fit and have an actual relationship. Lemon discovers in her own time that as much as she loves Tadhgan they aren’t suited in the long run, because she doesn’t actually just want to be a baker in Shireforth and never leave home or develop her magic. Her father is there for her first heartbreak and has actual advice and offers care and support for his daughter. After all that she is able to leave home and join the party on her own terms. Lemon has the time to discover what she actually wants to do with her life, still meet the friends she comes to love, and not be terrified of messing things up all the time because she has a home to return to. 

Laura - Her Pa and Ma get to live together the whole year instead of having one 24 hour period together on her birthday every year. Ma gets to move between the sea and land and see the tavern Pa built for her. The women she loves are on the same ship as her and their captain is lovely and capable. Gets an extra smooch from her partners. 

Amaryllis - Her mother claimed her as heir, and while they never quite had the relationship she dreamed of they are an effective team. Her mother and father make amends and while they don’t start a relationship they can be in the same room without one or the other leaving immediately. Amaryllis is able to make reforms in the nobility without mass bloodshed. The people know her as kind and strong and reliable. When the Boar comes to their borders she and Zadok are able to speak with her, show her what they’re doing to make a smooth transition of power. Amaryllis never meets Sterling, and falls in love with Eilidh instead while they all work together to make their kingdom better.  She and Zadok and Eilidh start their relationship under better circumstances. 

[a-drama-addict]

2, 3, and 23 for sigrid?

thank you for the ask!! :] sigrid time [Ask game]

2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside?

Ohhhfg good one! actually thought about this before; On the outside it would mostly be kept neat, there would be a chair, maybe a couple of towels on the floor. She'd have a little stand for her violin :)

And on the inside it kind of looks like the woman has never seen the word 'comfortable' in a dictionary. No bedroll, literally sleeps on the tent floor. There's a myriad of belongings scattered, sketchbook, weapons, nail files, etc. She dumps everything in there and sleeps like a plank in the center of it.

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

Hmmmm well I hadn't thought on this before. The Urge does generally.. fit? But if I had to come up with one myself probably ‘The Blood Singer.’

Because her personal quest would definitely center around regaining her memories, controlling the violent impulses that plague her. A big point is freeing herself from or either accepting Bhaal as her God and Father. The singer part is because well she’s a bard, and if you get high enough approval to spend time with her at the tiefling/goblin party she’ll reveal she’s been trying to get her urges out differently through writing and drawing and singing! (not extremely effective but still.)

23. How does your Tav act in situations of stress? In moments of peace?

If Sigrid’s stressed, it’s kind of like walking through a minefield. She snaps, she paces, growls—- like a cornered dog almost. She tries to remain somewhat in control and tries to bring the situation in control, but she’s generally speaking just a cornered animal wanting to bite her way out.

During peaceful moments she just has a strong case resting bitch face, definitely enjoying herself though! Her shoulders are less tense and her tail will generally be idly flicking about. If it’s truly a peaceful moment, she’ll manage to snatch a moment away to read

[is-the-primate-vid-cute]

Hello! I've been a lover of monkeys for most of my life but recently I learnt some bad stuff about chimpanzees, like how violent they are sometimes, how they kill babies, how some practice cannibalism??? Does one learn to live with this knowledge and still love monkeys? :( I don't know how to stop applying human morality to them

There are a few main things that keep me being a chimp lover despite some of the less savoury things they are known to do.

First of all, when it comes to the violence that chimps have been known to engage in: we also do that. As humans its easier for us to think of ourselves as individuals and other species as monoliths, but across time and cultures I guarantee you anything they do, we have done. We tend to think that animals are more wholesome and unburdened by the evils of the world but we're all just different types of guys. Let go of your expectations, and its a lot easier to appreciate chimpanzees.

Secondly, look at the full picture. Chimpanzee violence, while part of natural aggression, isn't a constant fixture of everyday life for them. I worry sometimes that we talk about these behaviors and people get the idea that chimps spend their days mauling and eating each other for no reason when the truth is that most of what they do is forage, work together, groom their friends, and enjoy the company of those they are close to. Many chimpanzees remain very close and protective of their children even well into adulthood, and will be affectionate and gentle with the young chimps in their troupe that they aren't related to- taking part in raising the youngsters. Even when conflict does arise, it is most often settled non-violently through displays or through physical altercation that does not injure either party. A lot of their fights are basically physical versions of arguments, and don't escalate too far. Additionally, it is the alphas job to ensure that all the chimps in a troupe are behaving. For every conflict you see, there's a ton of conflict resolution you don't see!

Lastly, I urge you to consider the human aspect. We have mentioned it before, but a lot of chimp violence we hear about would not occur if it were not for human intervention. Deforestation forces groups of chimps into smaller areas, sparking territorial disputes between troupes, resource scarcity forces conflict within troupes, and keeping a chimpanzee in captivity unethically such as as a pet is a breeding ground for unhealthy behaviors that can lead to violent aggression. If you look at ethical and high quality zoos and sanctuaries you can find a picture of chimp life that has healthy levels of aggression that comes out in play and small disputes where no one is seriously hurt, and you can really see how they blossom.

If you are able to I seriously recomend watching Meet the Chimps on Disney+; it gives a complete picture of chimp life where conflict and aggression is documented but you can see that it is just one part of their rich social lives. If not, follow chimpanzee sanctuaries such as Save the Chimps and Chimp Haven on social media! Save the Chimps actually has profiles for each of their residents here. Getting to know their residents can be really enriching and help you grow to appreciate them as individuals.

Personally, I find the fact that chimpanzees are capable of violence to make them even more interesting. They are so strong, brave, and their fighting spirits are incredible. Reading the biographies of the residents at Save the Chimps made me respect them so much because even chimpanzees who have only known cruelty, abuse, and hardship, have been given second chances at life by sanctuaries and have been able to have rich full lives!

I hope you find a place in your heart for chimps. ❤️

[anaiswriterr]

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part seven, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW. Todays chapter does include gore, death, killing, hunting, sickness, etc.

<masterlist>

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter seven: fevers and night terrors -

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Your memory is clouded from the prior events you participated in that afternoon. But the foul taste of blood and uncooked heart follow up your throat and out into a toilet bowl mock you as handmaidens rub your back in comfort. Melody soothes your nausea with warm tea meanwhile the rest pat wet cloths to your burning skin.

How did you get back to the castle? You have no idea. Absolutely no recollection of the journey back.

But you are happy they bathed and dressed you in a comfortable nightgown, tending to your ever needs and healing the scraps and wounds on your skin. Picking and pulling the splinters from your palms, scrubbing the blood, grime, and dirt off your chest.

Your eyes narrow attempting to fight off sleep.

Four girls gently escort you back to bed, tucking you into the sheets, folding a small cool rag and placing it on your forehead. A gold bell sits beside you, placed on a nightstand where you could easily reach out for. A bin is on the floor beside you as well, you thank them knowing there was something you could easily turn to.

The night was rough.

And your fever rose. 

Your body trembles in the sheets, your achy muscles pester your sore lower portion of the small of your back, you lean over, hunched over the mattress. Your body violently lurches forwards, with you stomach clenching, tears prick out from the corners of your eyes.

It hurts so much.

Melody rubs small circles on the small of your back; humming to herself soothing you. "I should get the King, he's been wanting to see you-"

"No." You cough, sternly your eyes narrow at the young girl. "He shouldn't see me in this state, I'm weak, tired, and sick. His presence wouldn't help." You swallow dryly. Eyeing the dagger resting neatly on your nightstand, you feel a hand reach out to rub small circle around your wrist.

Nodding in understanding Melody wipes your forehead, "Will you be alright?"

You give her a quick smile, just wanting to be alone, "Yes, go rest. I'll be fine." Melody pushes herself off the mattress, checking a final time your temperature. "I'll be back in the morning with tea and light crackers, sleep well your majesty."

As the door closes shut you lay down slowly into the pillows, careful of your sore belly, and attempt to drift off into sleep. The window blows cool air into your room, the lace curtains dance throughout the night as the moonlight shines on your face. You eventually drift feeling a lot more better then you were previously. Your stomach howls, growling at the emptiness it pained. Your head still felt dizzy - lightheaded and fuzzy -, even with your stomach empty you could still feel the linger of nausea, the sour taste on your taste buds. It's nearly bearable.

Nearly.

Surely not as terrible as an hour ago.

***

You are running through the woods, heavy footsteps follow closely behind you. You are screaming, well, you think you are. Your mouth opens in a large 'O' but no sound escapes. Just the sound of the deep huffs and grunts of the creature behind you chasing you. You scream out for Bakugou, you don't know why.

You have no idea why you'd scream out for his help, but it wasn't like he was any help. You are running circles, the same three berry bushes pop up ever forty-five seconds on your right.

Every corner you turn you see Bakugou, cheering and laughing.

It's all just a game. Some sick kill the queen culture.

You keep screaming.

Until a hand covers your mouth, silencing you. Your eyes shoot wide open, staring into a pair ruby red eyes, you subconsciously reach out for your dagger and press it to his throat.

"Don't do something you'll regret,"

"How do you know I won't regret it?"

He remains quiet, for the first time in forever it seems. Your grip on the blades handle loosens, his gaze moves to your lips. Only for a second. Then back up to your E/C eyes, "You were screaming."

You arch a brow, "Nightmare."

You realize the dagger is still pressing on his neck, pulling away you drop it to your side. Your eyes wondering to the ceiling above you in attempts to run away from his wandering gaze. The silence is awkward between the two of you, his forearms cage you in.

"Why are you here?"

"I said you were screaming - I wanted to check up on you."

"I-I'm fine,"

His arms are strong. Firm and deadly. They cage you in like a wingless bird, what do you say now. Your stomach clenches again, but not because you were nauseous - the feel had already subdued with sleep. It's the fact that you husband, who also happened to be very handsome was hovering over you. "You should leave." You state firmly, unable to look at him.

He's quite.

The only sound you can hear is the howling wind from outside as it hits the curtains of your balconies window.

"How are you feeling?"

It's an odd question coming from him, "I'm fine. I- feel better."

"I don't believe you."

You're taken aback left babbling between words, "I feel better, no thanks to you and this kingdom's parliament. You entered my cambers without my consent and I'd like you to leave - immediately."

His hands press harder onto the mattress before shifting his weight onto the headboard above you, "You're a feisty little one, even when you're burning with fever though I suppose it is going down. You fell into my arms, remember?"

You laugh with delight, "It was either you or the gravel beneath me. And I will not fall onto the ground below you at your feet. If you're here to pick a fight then you are mistaken. I do not have the strength nor patience to deal with you." The words came spitefully out of your mouth, trailing away from your lips. He smirks above you, eyeing you from below.

"Lets get things straight here, I came to check on my wife-"

"Spare me your savior complexities for a later dat-"

You feel his hand move down to your cheek, his knuckles just barely grazing over the soft skin and relaxing at your throat; "Your skin is so soft." His palm gently tightens, "I didn't want this. This marriage was a truce, a trade. To stop the war on the northern fronts we needed each other - our kingdoms." He let's go of your throat, your heart is beating so fast you can barley catch up.

"Tomorrow you will see your people, they want to spare a glance at their new rightful Queen. The real party is tomorrow, you'll meet your soldiers the day after on the outskirts." He says fixing his hair, you push yourself up from the mattress, "We're going to the outskirts?"

"Yes, I have people, things you need to meet."

"What things?" You ask, watching as he turns his back to you ready to leave your room. He looks back at you through your mirror, smiling hiding the glint of mischief behind his smirk, "You're the Queen of dragons now,"

You nod slowly at his inclination. Wondering where the conversation would lead to.

"You have to meet your children."

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[trekkie-in-space]

KakagaiWeek2020 - Day 4 - Lost & Found P1

Author : JackB

Title : How beast are born.

Rating : General Audience.

Words : 1752

Resume :  During a mission Gai is acting off, his behavior is nothing like Kakashi ever seen. It’s distressing. How can he bring Gai’s back ?

Tag : drdp, derealisation, depersonalization, dissociation, Kakashi’s trauma come to say hello, but this IS a Gai-centric fic, pre-slash but still very Kakagai, anbu kakashi era, the characters have no idea what’s going on, It’s not like Konoha have much if any psychological health/trauma center.

Note : This is based on accurate but specific drdp experience, it can’t reflect all drdp experience, if anybody want more detail on what’s actually going on with Gai you can ask me ^^

THIS IS PART ONE, PART TWO IS HERE

- Lost -

Kakashi had heard about it. A few years back, Gai’s team was celebrating their overly successful last mission. Apparently they had done exploit there, to the point Gai had been given a nickname by the shinobi they had fought, ‘The Beast’. It’s not so often one gets a nickname on the field, curiosity had led the discussion at the table, between food and drinks, all wondered what had happened to lead to such a nickname. They kept coming up with theories, all crazier or more ridiculous than the last, and Kakashi might have been the only one noticing Ebisu taking his distance to the current conversation.

“Well, he didn’t steal the nickname.” He had mumbled in his glass, nobody had heard but him and Genma, at his side, who approved the affirmation with a nod. There was a certain gravity in their expressions. This was more serious than it looked like.

Gai had embraced the nickname, made it his and Kakashi never pushed to know the reason it had been given in the first place, assuming without truly knowing. Gai was competent and a specialist, this simple combination was the most likely to result in a nickname if you found yourself at the right place at the right time. But he could see now, what was behind this nickname, what birthed it.

He wishes he hadn’t found out.

This obstinacy is not like he has ever seen in Gai before, it’s more than completing the mission, this is a hunt. An instinct who has reached its peak and isn’t going down soon. Inexhaustible, relentless and terrifying.

He and Genma can barely keep up the pace with him, if even at all. All they can do is follow the scream or the smell of freshly spilled blood. Gai is pushy on their enemy, never leaving an opening unanswered. There’s no frivolous act, each hit is precise and every movement is efficient.

His enemies are no more than dummies to him. It’s a flawless fight and Kakashi find it distressing. Gai has always been efficient and competent during battles, but never to this extreme. There is a tension in his guts, telling him to never find himself at the end of Gai’s fist when he is in this state. It rare someone can urge such a sensation in him by now, even more when this someone is on his side.

“Gai ! Wait for us.” He screams but Gai doesn’t seem to hear him, if he did, he certainly didn’t pay attention to him, disappearing behind trees like he is part of the forest.

Genma give him a sign to stop and they both land on a tree branch. He is shaking his head.

“Don’t.”

“What’s up with him ?” He asks.

“Oh.. uh. He gets like that. Sometime.” Genma pass his hand on the back of his neck and give Kakashi a crisped smile.

“It happens often ?”

“No. Don’t worry, it’s fine just.. Don’t get in his way.” Kakashi is not sure what it’s supposed to mean.

“He could get seriously hurt if he continues like that.”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure ?”

“Because when he is like that, he doesn’t really get hurt, nobody really has the time to.” Kakashi frown. “I mean.. You saw it.”

Genma is not wrong, Gai is way too fast, but there’s always a risk.

“We should join him, we are close from our goal and he must be waiting for us.”

“I doubt he would have awaited.”

“He did.” Genma is about to start jumping from their tree again but he stops, adding. “Don’t be surprised if he is not.. As talkative as usual. He listens, even if it looks like he doesn’t.”

Kakashi feels like Genma is talking about someone else, this doesn’t sound like Gai at all. It takes them a few minutes, where they pass beside some unconscious or maybe even dead enemies, to reach Gai. They land at his side, Gai doesn’t acknowledge them though, looking over the Iwa research center they have to securize. This center was supposed to be low danger, with a near dormant activity due to a low staffed crew. Their mission was to make prisoners and secure the site until the recovery team comes to retrieve the research that were made here. But their information had been wrong, apparently Iwa had decided to revive this center and give it a strong protection. Their little team had been completely outnumbered.

Which, thanks to Gai, hadn’t been too much of a problem. They were still used from the previous combat though, and the lack of proper information made it far more dangerous. What could await them in that research center could be more than what the three of us could take.

“Gai, this was irresponsible, you could have been hurt or put the whole mission in danger.” Kakashi scold but doesn’t get a single reaction. Not a word, not even a movement. More than his worry for the safety of the mission, Kakashi start to really worry about Gai. He reaches for him, hoping for a reaction. “‘You oka.. ”

“No touching !” Genma snap at him, but it’s too late.

His hand rest gently on Gai’s shoulder and the glare he throws at him in answer terrify Kakashi. It’s mean, violent but in a cold way. Kakashi feel like a prey to be crushed and he can’t help but to stare back, keeping still and quiet as if Gai is going to unleash on him in a second if he makes a wrong move. He was never afraid of Gai, and despite how strong Gai is, Kakashi still think in a serious fight he could take him and win. But right now he isn’t so sure. If anything he feels like a pup being put back in its place and he didn’t think, Gai could ever have such an aura. This is not Gai. Yet it is.

Gai frown at him, gauges him and Kakashi start to wonder if he even recognize him.

A clap of the hand from Genma make Gai’s focus redirect elsewhere. The tension relax and Kakashi gently remove his hand from his shoulder.

“What are you doing, don’t touch him, don’t stare at him.”

“What’s wrong with him ?” Genma move at his side so they can avoid talking between Gai and shrug.

“It’s like, some sort of hyperfocus.. I guess. But hm, a part of him just shut down completely to leave this.” He waves at Gai. “He disconnect from things, I’m not sure. All I know is that like that, there’s no stopping him, he probably won’t leave anybody for us to fight. We just have to follow and make sure we complete the mission.”

“Can he attack us ?”

“Never did, but don’t be in his range because he is most likely not going to avoid you.”

Gai is looking at them now, Genma catch a glimpse of him and immediately looks down and make sure to avoid staring. Kakashi, on the other hand, stare back.

His eyes are not as mean as before, but still hold this coldness, a distance far away from the warms Gai give away. There’s an energy to him, a frenzy that only ask to be let loose. But as he holds his glare, he catches a glimpse of vulnerability, confusion and distress. Kakashi jump at his other side and Gai follow him. To Kakashi, it feels like an animal. They keep staring at each other and Genma stare at them incredulously.

For a second, Kakashi think Gai is reaching out to him or at least tries to. He is not sure what to make of it. Genma seem confident in his teammate but he isn’t. He should probably call off the mission, but how is he going to justify it ?

“So the plan hasn’t changed ?” Genma asks.

“No, we enter, secure the site, we avoid killing the researcher as we are taking prisoners. Then we protect the area waiting for the recovery team. But to be honest I think we should call off the mission.”

“If it’s because of Gai, don’t, he won’t mess up.”

“He is clearly not fine, it’s too dangerous.. ”

“It’s fine.” Gai comment catch their attention immediately. “We can continue the mission.” His tone is a bit distant, disconnected.

“You’re sure ?”

Gai nod. They stare at each other, Kakashi doing his best to gauge Gai, why he can’t quite find the Gai he knows is a mystery. It’s him and at the same time it’s not. Kakashi hates it. Though, he seems fine enough to continue the mission. At least Kakashi hope.

A sound in a bush catch their attention, and Gai’s focus return to the same efficient disconnected coldness.

Like that, he would fit Anbu perfectly.

He gives the sign to pursue the mission and in an instant Gai is at the front door of the research center, they don’t get a welcome party immediately, but as Gai force the door, enemies attack. Kakashi rushes on one of them but he doesn’t have the time to use his Chidori that Gai already sent the ninja away with a kick. It’s fast, it’s ferocious and they can hear bones broke at the impact on the stones of the research center.

Kakashi’s instinct awake and an intense fear takes his guts. Gai jumped extremely close to his Chidori, to the point he felt his electricity touch. If Gai hadn’t been moving so fast, he would have taken it.

The idea of hurting yet another friend with his jutsu paralyze him for an instant. Images of Rin flash through his mind, his hands feels like they are covered in blood again.

Not now.

It could happen all over again, and it terrifies him on the spot. It’s dangerous, they’re in the middle of a fight, but Gai and Genma are managing without him for the moment. He needs to snap out of it.

All he knows is that he won’t be using his Chidori again today.

The battle is quickly over. Kakashi and Genma were here more for support than anything else. Gai could have taken them all without much trouble. He feels like a beast, brutal and ruthless.

Konoha’s Green Beast Kakashi remember. Beast. He gets it now, why it was given to Gai. He wishes he hadn’t found out. He doesn’t have time to settle his uneasiness, they have a mission to complete.

Part Two - Found

[agentrouka-blog]

Do you think Jon gonna mate in his wolf form? It's a theory by a jonsa shipper. There was haggon who mates with sly in one-eye. I don't want that for Jon and Sansa bcoz it's disgusting and traumatic at same time.

Hi anon!

I have never read such a theory. 

Are you sure you didn’t mistake simple foreshadowing for Jonsa (with a post-resurrection Jon) for a case of bestiality?

Actually, it’s Varamyr, who we met in ASOS with the rest of the Wildlings, who uses the wolves that way (wolf on wolf, mind!), and it’s considered an abomination. Varamyr reflects on the teaching Haggon, his warging mentor. The entire prologue of ADWD is a big soup of mirrors and foreshadowing but also a big laundry list of the ways in which warging is actually a power that can easily be horribly abused.

People are not necessarily wrong to mistrust wargs. 

Varamyr is a special case because he is downright pleased to abuse his power:

warged into he dogs to murder his younger brother because he was jealous of him when he was only six

steals Haggon’s “second life” by forcing him from his intended animal and murdering his human body.

violently forces the warging onto his animals, none of them want it

uses his animals to attack and threaten people, 

mates in animal form (male and female) which is a form of bestiality and of sexual abuse because obviously he’s still a third party forcing himself in on the act

threatens many women with his shadow cat in order to rape them and father children on them that he doesn’t take care of

hunts and eats human beings while warging

wargs into Thistle, who has saved his life and taken care of him, to steal her body when his own dies, it is a vicious fight during which Thistle destroys her own body just to force him out

 And in all of this he is filled with nothing but self-pity.

Varamyr reflects a LOT of characters who abuse their power or drift into dangerous behaviors while warging. Bran and Arya are both going down dark paths. Robb was deeply unsettled by what he did with Ghost. Dany is a kind of Varamyr. Tyrion certainly is. Plus, all the Starklings will eventually break with their mentors and make their own Interpretation of their teachings. (Ygritte, Littlefinger, Three-Eyed Crow, Faceless Men, etc etc.) 

Jon, one might speculate, will be most affected by this aspect:

“They say you forget,” Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death. “When the man’s flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains.”

Varamyr knew the truth of that. When he claimed the eagle that had been Orell’s, he could feel the other skinchanger raging at his presence. Orell had been slain by the turncloak crow Jon Snow, and his hate for his killer had been so strong that Varamyr found himself hating the beastling boy as well.

Basically, if Jon spends time in Ghost, his strong emotions will be preserved, his more refined behavior dulled. The text specifically uses “the beast” and “the wolf”, so we’re likely to slip into Beauty and the Beast territory with this angle. So yes, it’s probably going to affect his interactions with Sansa. And yes, One-Eye and Sly appear to be sibling wolves, which might be ist own hint at Jonsa.

Does that mean Ghost will try to mate with Sansa? 

NO! What the hell? No! Obviously not!  Nothing in the Prologue even suggests that. 

The only one who does crap like that is, I think, Ramsey. 

Jeyne pulled her wolfskins up to her chin. "No. This is some trick. It's him, it's my … my lord, my sweet lord, he sent you, this is just some test to make sure that I love him. I do, I do, I love him more than anything." A tear ran down her cheek. "Tell him, you tell him. I'll do what he wants … whatever he wants … with him or … or with the dog or … please … he doesn't need to cut my feet off, I won't try to run away, not ever, I'll give him sons, I swear it, I swear it …"

Rowan whistled softly. "Gods curse the man." (ADWD, Theon I)

Even Varamyr didn’t do that. That’s Ramsey’s thing. GRRM is not going to turn Jon into something worse than Ramsey. 

Will Jon mate with some wolf while warging? I mean, Ghost has been running around unsupervised plenty of times, if he had the urge (and a direwolf at hand), he’s free to get busy. But we have never seen another direwolf in the text, even though they are said to live beyond the Wall. And since it’s still a gross thing to do, I really don’t think so. 

Jon as Ghost is likely to be a foil to Varamyr. He will want to protect Sansa. He will be emotionally attached to Sansa. And while Jon has some deep-seated issues with resentment and anger that we have seen come out as violent outbursts, they were never directed at women ever. Jon, Ghost and Sansa coming together is likely to be a healing experience for them, not a source of more trauma.

The bigger issue will be Jon outside of Ghost. Life will be more complicated, more restricted and filled with new burdens, new trauma. Bran was a grump when he woke up from his coma. Now multiply that by Jon. That's the real “Beast”.

[lilmajorshawty]

Zodiac Notes Part 9🌎

•Pluto in the 6th house people have very strong work ethics and tend to have incredible immune systems and an overal body constitution that allows them to get over serious alignments through sheer will power alone.

•Pluto in the 6th house of a composite can point to a strong desire for constant sexual expression in a Virgo like manner for the couple. You’re sexually drawn to each other EVERYDAY. The sex is not only constant but it’s also a strong need for both to express their strong sexual urges for one another.

•The Anti-Christ is a Aquarius.

•4th house stelliums can be very nurturing, innocent and naturally human centered but in a more afflicted expression they can be violent, narcotic and emotionally deceptive.

•Saturn in the 8th or Capricorn in the 8th housers tend to be turned on by unequal situations in their sexual encounters. this is mainly the see-saw between dominance vs submissive.

•Pisces with fire placemnts or house influence can be emotionally distant, hard to reach and imperialistic in nature.

•Marilyn Monroe has Saturn in the 4th and she struggled quite a bit with the formation of realistic emotional bonds and also spent much of her time using sex and detachment as a means of ignoring her core self. Hence why her Neptune played a more prominant role in her life, Neptune amplifies its effect when we fail to confront the lessons of Saturn.

•Failing to be compassionate or giving in the area of our Jupiter - amplifies the expression of Uranus causing one to become rebellious, erratic and lacking in the ability to sympathize.

•Failing to confront Pluto opens the door to a more amplified Lilith.

•You only feel an orb length up to 5 in the years 1-10 and you feel orbs 5-10 in years 10-18. You feel orbs 10-15 in years 20-27 and you feel orbs 15-20 in years 28-35. Following your late 30s it is possible to feel orbs up to 29 degrees but this is more common among the elderly as they are nearing their last days and walking into the new soul.

•in synastry orb widening is common but it’s not a accepted practice. Usually orbs 0-11 color the first few months, even the first year. The orbs 11-15 span 2-4 years and orbs up to 20 follow 10 years and on going. This is the same for a composite.

•composites will often be heavily felt 6 months in. They will take on the main expression a year in while the synastry becomes background(still important)

•Virgin Mary was a Saturn in the 8th(GO FIGURES, slay queen)

•out of sign Venus conjunct north node is permanent(the two will be inseparable in this life but in the beginning the north node and the Venus person willl run away from each other at first)

•same sign Venus conjunction north node is impermenant unless Saturn is present. It usually means that the two of you are meant to learn something and that forces in the universe will separate the union once the lesson is learned :(

•Pluto square Juno translates to, “you’re kinda crazy, and you make me a little uncomfy...b..ut holy fuck will you be mine?”

•second house sun, third house sun, eighth house sun, ninth house sun, fourth house sun and twelfth house sun in the composite ARE AMAZIN TO HAVE! They usually are in lifelong partnerships!

•Saturn squares are also great! They might mean tough life lessons but overall they help for long terms unions if you don’t mind the rather hard early courting.

•8th house lord in aspect to the moon or sitting in the 4th house makes men have a girthy or rather thick memeber.

•Jupiter cancels out Saturn if they are in the same house, aspecting one another in any way or indirectly aspecting one another! This is true in synastry as well

Ex: Venus square Saturn, Jupiter square Venus. They cancel out. Moon conjunct Saturn and Jupiter square moon once again cancel out.

•Lilith in the 5th makes the body LOOK VERY GORGEOUS

•Lilith in the 2nd makes the voice tone VERY SEXY

•Lilith in the 3rd makes the mind very cunning and sharp, they will swindle you and your nation

•Lilith in the 4th housers are never actually at their own homes

•Lilith in the 1st housers are more Plutonian than Pluto.

•Lilith in the 6th housers are animal whispers

•Lilith in the 7th housers are very dark Individuals who attract even darker individuals.

•Lilith in the 8th housers are most likely virgins who project everyone’s fantasy all the while preferring celibacy.

•Lilith in the 9th housers are civil rights activist at heart

•Lilith in the 10th housers are business executives at heart and they will eat a corporation alive

•Lilith in the 11th housers are usually the types to loathe the idea of marriage and institutional constrictions in general.

•Lilith in the 12th housers are prophetic dreamers

• Scorpio sun/Aquarius rising creates a person who attracts third party scenarios or whom may rely on friends to aid their relationships due to their inability to express their intentions properly to their crush and or lover.

•Libra sun/Gemini rising creates a person who is scattered but deeply emotional. They care about everyone else but because they’re so happy and bubbly people dismiss their feelings making them deeply sad and isolated.

•Aries x Capricorn placements are ruthless and cut throat, they are very relaxed in their ability to get rid of people or things that aren’t serving them.

•Leo x Scorpio placements are the bad boy, bad gal dynamic. Very sensual and extremely seductive and private.

•most monks share a common natal frequency with nobility(12th house stellium)

•most religious leaders share the same common natal frequency with serial killers(1st house stellium and 4th house stellium)

•most actors, models and workers in the medical field including doctors, physical therapist and even psychologist also writers and designers all share(10th house, 7th house and 8th house stellium and or presence)

•military workers and police officers also have strong 8th house, 10th house and 6th house.

[rapeculturerealities]

Even as Kobe Bryant moved beyond his career in the N.B.A. and into his next chapter as a Hollywood and tech mogul, he could never fully leave the ugliest part of his past behind.

Bryant — among nine people, including his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, who died on Sunday in a helicopter crash outside Los Angeles — was charged with sexually assaulting a 19-year-old woman in 2003. But as in the vast majority of cases involving accusations of sexual violence, there was no clear resolution. There was no verdict.

Prosecutors dropped the case just before it was scheduled to go to trial, citing the accuser’s unwillingness to testify. A lawsuit the woman filed against Bryant ended in a settlement, the details of which have never been made public.

In the era before #MeToo — the societal reckoning with the frequent sexual harassment and abuse women endure at work and in their personal lives — Bryant resumed a career that had never really paused. Throughout the 2003-04 season, while the case was still being litigated, he flew back and forth between court appearances in Colorado and games,  often arriving just minutes before tip-off.

The Lakers made the N.B.A. finals that season but lost their bid for a fourth championship in five seasons. Bryant, however, would win two more N.B.A. titles, plus two Olympic gold medals, before his retirement in 2016, and he continued his evolution into a global celebrity, an international ambassador for both his sport and Nike, his major sponsor.

Yet in 2018, just seven months after he won an Academy Award for best animated short film, Bryant was dropped from the jury of a film festival.

“This is an urgent time to say NO to toxic and violent behavior against women,” read a petition urging organizers of the Animation Is Film Festival to disassociate themselves from Bryant.

As he had in the past, Bryant declined to discuss the sexual assault case. He said he was “disappointed” with the decision of the festival organizers but was now focused on changing the world “through diverse stories, characters and leadership.”

For a moment, Bryant was back where he had been in 2003 — someone who, like Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, operated at the pinnacle of his profession but stood accused of a terrible crime.

Weinstein is currently being tried in a rape case in New York City, the rare celebrity who has had to face such criminal charges.

The case against Bryant began on June 30, 2003, when he checked into the Cordillera Lodge and Spa in Edwards, Colo. He was there to have a knee operation at a clinic in nearby Vail.

After being led to his room by a concierge, Bryant asked her to return later and give him a private tour of the property. She did, and then Bryant invited her into his room. They both said later that they began kissing, but what happened in the next few minutes became the heart of the dispute. The woman told the police that Bryant had raped her. Bryant said they had consensual sex.

Prosecutors seemed to have a strong case. According to court documents, an examination of the woman at a hospital revealed a bruise on her neck and tears in her vaginal wall. Both her underwear and Bryant’s shirt were bloody. Bryant told the police he had not explicitly asked for consent.

While the issue of consent has long been at the heart of sex crime laws, how it is understood and taught has evolved — in part because of high-profile cases like the one against Bryant. “No means no” has given way to “yes means yes,” and the idea of explicit consent has become the standard, rather than an expectation that an objecting participant must say no.

Almost immediately the case against Bryant became a news media circus, the biggest celebrity prosecution since the O.J. Simpson trial. Quickly though, the accuser’s reputation came under attack. Bryant’s lawyer, Pamela Mackey, said the woman’s name in open court six times during one hearing — even though the police and court officials had tried to preserve her anonymity — and asked if her injuries could have been caused “by having sex with three men in three days.” Television crews camped outside the home of the accuser’s parents, and her name was leaked by the court system three times.

Like the Simpson case a decade before, the Bryant case quickly became about much more than what had happened in that hotel room. It was seen through the historical prism of white women falsely accusing black men of sexual violence (the woman in the Bryant case was white). At the same time, the case sparked commentary that perpetuated stereotypes about false accusations of rape.

After the case was dropped, Bryant issued a lengthy statement, apologizing to the woman and acknowledging her perspective of their encounter, which is farther than most public apologies go. “Although I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual,” he said in statement, “I recognize now that she did not and does not view this incident the same way I did.”

With the legal troubles behind him, Bryant created an alter ego, calling himself “Black Mamba” — after Africa’s deadliest snake, which figured in the 2003 movie “Kill Bill.”

“The whole process for me was trying to figure out how to cope with this,” Bryant told The Washington Post in 2018. “I wasn’t going to be passive and let this thing just swallow me up.”

Eventually there were Mamba shoes, a Mamba Sports Academy and the nickname “Mambacita” for Gianna, the second-born of the four daughters Bryant shared with his wife, Vanessa.

Before the sexual assault case, Bryant was sometimes in the shadow of Shaquille O’Neal, playing Robin to Shaq’s Batman. After Bryant adopted the Mamba persona, he emerged as his own man. He helped create the dissension that led Phil Jackson to retire and the Lakers to trade O’Neal, though Jackson returned to coach Bryant and the Lakers again.

But years after saying “I also want to make it clear that I do not question the motives of this young woman,” Bryant seemingly did just that.

To explain why he would not comment on the death of Trayvon Martin, the black teenager who was shot to death while returning home from a convenience store, he had a conversation with the journalist Jemele Hill. “He was speaking from the experience of someone who had been on trial for sexual assault,” she wrote in a column on Monday, “and, in his mind, had been wrongfully accused.” Bryant later apologized to Martin’s family.

And in 2018, reflecting on the sponsors that cut ties with him after he was arrested, including McDonald’s and Coca-Cola, Bryant said they did so because he was too “gritty.”

Later in his life, Bryant became a big supporter of women’s athletics. He took his daughter Gianna to watch the Connecticut Huskies basketball team, recorded voice overs for the N.C.A.A. women’s basketball tournament and talked constantly about the W.N.B.A.

And at those 2018 Oscars? Hours after Frances McDormand, winner of the Best Actress award, gave a powerful speech about the need to include more women  in the film business, she was hobnobbing with Bryant at a post-show party.

[inkribbon796]

The Cowardly Lion

Summary:  Soulmate AU. Illinois has always believed that since his soul mark is a lion that his partner will be brave, noble, and adventurous. He is . . . mostly. Just not in the ways Illinois thinks his life will go.

Got two updates this week cause I missed last week, next one should be out soon. This is a non-superhero AU.

Being the youngest of sixteen kids in the Derekson household meant a lot of things: Eric wasn’t given a lot of attention, he had to be quick to grab food at the table, and he wasn’t his dad’s favorite. Not by a long shot.

It also meant that whenever someone’s soul mark came in, you were teased relentlessly. Soul marks came in when both you and your soulmate’s personalities were firmly set. Eric’s had finally come in when he was eight. He’d been running on a playground from one of his brothers, and tripped over his own shoelaces. When he looked down at his wrist, there was something coiled around it. It looked like a whip.

His brothers immediately latched onto it, endlessly teasing Eric, even when he got home.

Eric’s mother had been excited for him, while his father had been less so. But then again, Eric’s father was unhappy at anything he’d done. Due to all the teasing, Eric always tried to hide his soul mark, in the sleeves of his old coat or with his own hand.

After the accident, it only got worse. Derek had forced his son to wear a wristband to hide it, punishing him if Eric even looked at it. So Eric learned not to look, even when it was sometimes the only thing he wanted to do.

Today Eric was excited to get some fresh air. Their coffee machine had broken down so he was being sent to get his dad some from the coffee shop down the street.

Illinois hated school, hated that he was confined to a small room when all he wanted to do was go out and see the world. Even if college was marginally better than high school had been.

Dreaming about it made it impossible for Illinois to focus. Sometimes he caught himself staring at his soul mark instead of paying attention. Partially because anything was better, and partially because looking at it just made him feel better. On the back of his hand was a fluffy maned lion with a bow on its head. No colors, just his own skin tone.

Unfortunately it didn’t give him too much. His friends and family who looked at his mark said that his soulmate had to be brave and powerful, and Illinois was inclined to agree, sure that like him his soulmate was just as adventurous and was already out there. Having all those fun adventures without him. Illinois imagined a Brazilian pilot, or a deep sea explorer.

His bored mood didn’t get any better. His classes had been boring and he’d had a stressful day getting from class to class. So the grad student was already muttering angrily to himself as he entered his apartment complex, stomping up the stairs, wanting to get his mind clear. But when he got up to his floor, he wasn’t as concentrated as he should have been and Illinois slammed into someone coming out of the elevator with a cup of coffee in their hand.

Illinois cursed, jumping back as the hot coffee the guy was holding smashed into Illinois and spilled hot coffee all over him.

Jumping back, Illinois frantically tried to pull his shirt away from his skin. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

The guy shrunk back, muttering sorry and other apologizes.

Illinois saw the coffee was also spilled on the guy he’d bumped into and felt a little bad. “You okay?” Illinois grumbled.

At Illinois’s question, the guy looked up at Illinois, and almost by accident, their eyes met. Illinois felt like he’d been jolted with electricity. The other guy whimpered, flinching back, but didn’t look away. Almost immediately Illinois felt his soul mark tingle and ache. Illinois felt the almost too strong urge to reach up and wipe the other guy’s tears away.

“Eric!” A voice called down the hall and “Eric” flinched rather violently, clearly trying to get away from both the guy calling him and Illinois. He looked down at the almost empty coffee cup in his hands in almost mindless fear.

Suddenly protective, Illinois cleared his throat, not wanting to grab the guy who was clearly terrified. “Who is that?”

“M-my dad,” Eric stammered. “I have to go.”

“I can talk to him,” Illinois offered, planning on punching the guy that made his soulmate this scared.

That only seemed to terrific Eric even more terrified. “N-No please. I h-ave to go.”

“Eric!” A door down the hall opened, and Eric’s eyes widened, and grabbed the front of Illinois’s shirt to try and hide him in the stairwell. Then he turned around, clutching the almost empty cup to his chest. Eric used his body to completely hide Illinois.

A door slammed open.

“Damn it Eric, it doesn’t take three hours to get a dam cup,” the man snarled.

“S-S-orry Dad,” Eric swallowed through his words. “My l-egs w-er-e act-ing up.”

“Right,” Eric’s dad scoffed. “For three hours?”

Eric was quiet for a couple seconds, “I’m sorry.”

“What happened to my coffee?” Eric’s dad demanded.

“I dropped it,” Eric replied meekly, clearly even from Illinois’s vantagepoint he was holding the cup even closer to himself.

“You what? How?” Eric’s dad shouted.

Eric was quiet for a bit, “I di-didn’t m-ean to.”

“You never mean to!” Eric’s dad shouted back at him.

“Just go inside, you’ve already ruined my day,” Eric’s dad ordered.

Without waiting for Eric to follow him, Eric’s dad grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him back to their apartment, slamming the door shut behind them. Eric glanced back at Illinois while his dad had his back partially turned to them. Illinois took a step to follow them but the door was already closed before he could make the second step, locking Eric in and Illinois out.

For a while Illinois stood outside the door, fist raised to knock. When he’d gained enough of his composure he walked away, needing time to think. Eric wouldn’t just leap out and follow Illinois if his dad was anything to go by.

Looking down at the back of his hand, he studied his soul mark. In that second he was determined to save his little cowardly lion, one way or the other.

Illinois honestly didn’t know what to do, he wanted to cocoon his soulmate in blankets and smother him with love, but short of sounding crazy, or kidnapping him, Illinois didn’t know how to keep him from getting hurt.

There wasn’t much Illinois could do, he was always worried about scaring him away. Eric was more than willing to talk to him on the off-chance they met in the hallway. At first Eric was nervous and shy, darting back into his apartment the first chance he got, but that was changing. Slowly as the weeks went by he lingered just a little bit longer.

He was getting braver, or at least more trusting of Illinois. He was rubbing at his wrist a lot when he was looking at Illinois. It made him wonder why Eric had a band covering his wrist, curious at what his soul mark looked like and why he had it covered. Illinois’s lion was for Eric, but what did Eric have under there?

The guy wouldn’t let Illinois rescue him from his shithole dad, so Illinois would have to be patient. Illinois could be more than patient, Eric was worth it. He was worth the whole universe. So, everyday after his classes, Illinois would wait for his soulmate, offering him and smile and trying to be nice. If there was one thing Eric was overdue it was obviously someone being nice to him.

There were already things that Illinois was learning, Eric had fifteen older brothers that were all dead now, along with Eric’s mother. Something Eric blamed himself for. He’d lost his legs in the accident, both of them had been replaced by prosthetics. His P.O.S dad’s name was Derek. Eric loved animals but could never be around them for his “bad luck”. Finally: Eric blushed in such a cute way it stole Illinois’s heart every time he saw it.

Eric was nervous at first, trying to hide Illinois every time his dad was nearby. It took Illinois several weeks to go from the feeling of frustration that Eric didn’t want him around; to a slow realization: Eric was trying to keep his dad from turning his anger on Illinois. He was covering for him.

A thought which Illinois thought was as endearing, as it was heartbreaking. Because he was suddenly overcome by the urge to march into Eric’s apartment and pull him away.

Today Derek was out of the apartment, working, and Illinois had taken his last final and was excited for the break. So one of his friends and his soulmate were over, and Illinois wanted nothing more than to have Eric with them. So he came over and knocked on Eric’s door.

It took a minute or two for Eric to answer, giving Illinois a shy but cautious smile when the door finally opened. “Illy? What are you doing here?”

“Your dad’s not here, do you want to come over and join the party with some of my friends?” Illinois asked.

Eric looked surprised, “Really? You want me over?”

“Of course I do,” Illinois urged. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

The door opened a little more, Eric rubbing at his arm nervously. “I-I uh, I do-n’t know.

“I saw your dad slip out a while ago when I went to go and check my mail,” Illinois lied. He had seen Derek leave, but it had been because he’d been checking every five seconds, driving his friends up the wall.

Eric looked back towards the stairs, biting his bottom lip.

“You can leave anytime you like,” Illinois promised, but hoped in vain that the time would be never.

“O-Okay,” Eric allowed and grabbed a set of keys hanging up near the door to start locking up. Then he started wringing his hands nervously as they started walking down the hall.

“Wa-it,” Eric stopped. “Should I change? I’ve, uh, ne-ever been to . . . a party before.”

“You look fine,” Illinois tried to tell him. “It’ll be great.”

Eric looked down at his feet as Illinois reached his door and began to open it. Instantly his friend Iplier smiled at them.

“Hey, Illy,” Iplier smiled from his spot on the couch, staring at Eric. “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” Illinois scoffed, opening the door for Eric who looked nervous, hiding behind him. “Come on in, Eric, we should have more people coming in. Iplier, this is Eric. Eric is this is my friend Iplier.”

“Hey,” Iplier greeted. “So you’re the one Illy’s been talking about.”

Eric blushed, glancing at Illinois before frantically looking away. He began rubbing at his hands and wrist again. “Th-Th-ank you . . . It’s, uh, nice to me-et you.”

“Where’s Host?” Illinois looked around, not seeing Iplier’s soulmate anywhere.

“He’s in the bathroom, he’ll call if he needs help,” Iplier looked.

Eric walked in and Illinois carefully closed the door behind them. Illinois offered him some of the pizza as Host was walking out of the bathroom. Eric stared wide-eyed at the bandages on the Host’s face before averting his eyes. Iplier walked over to him, checking his bandages.

“Host,” Illinois called out. “We have some more company, his name is Eric.”

“Ahh, hello Eric,” the Host turned vaguely towards the sound of Illinois’s voice and Iplier moved so that he could keep checking his face without impeding Host’s movements.

“He’s probably his lion,” Iplier teased.

“Ahh,” Host answered, smiling at Iplier.

“Drop it, Doc,” Illinois warned.

Iplier chuckled to himself, looking up at the Host. “Looks good, I’ll probably need to change these in about a half-hour. Any discomfort or pain?”

“No, Doctor, the Host is fine,” the Host smiled as Iplier’s hand slowly moved up to his face.

Illy rolled his eyes at them, looking over Eric. “So we’ve got pepperoni, and a four meat. Which do you want?”

Eric shrugged, “I do-on’t know.”

Then a heavy pounding came at the door, Illinois glared at it. “Better be one of the guys with their hands full of bullshit.”

Illinois looked through the peephole despite another round of incessant banging.

It was Derek.

“Shit,” Illinois cursed, opening the door enough just to stick his head and shoulder through, hoping that he was completely blocking Eric from view. “What the hell do you want?”

“Where is he?” Derek demanded.

“You’re gonna have to be specific dude,” Illinois sighed, trying to look bored and unimpressed instead of furious and wanting to take his head off.

“My son,” Derek seethed. “I know he came in here, you’ve been spying on us for weeks now.”

Illinois mentally kicked himself, “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Eric!” Derek called. “Get your ass over here.”

There was a little squeak, and Illinois could almost feel Eric standing behind him, clearly trying to move past him but not wanting to forcibly move Illinois out of the way. Illinois wanted to push him back a bit, slam the door in Derek’s face, keeping Eric safe in his apartment.

“Ill,” Eric managed to squeak out. “Uhm . . . Uh, can you, uh—”

His heart breaking in two, Illinois moved to the side and started to open the door a bit.

“Holy shit,” Derek said, looking past Illinois and the instant that Eric was within reach, he grabbed Eric by the wrist and yanked him out of Illinois’s apartment. Eric hit the doorframe with his shoulder, yelping in surprise and pain.

“Hey!” Illinois spat, following them out as Derek was pulling Eric up the hall to their apartment. Eric was clearly trying to regain his foot as he was being tugged along.

“Dad,” Eric whimpered out, “you’re hurting me.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Derek demanded, shoving Eric against the door of their apartment

“Let go of him, he was already walking to you,” Illinois shouted.

“Can it,” Derek spat back at him. “Don’t involve my son in your freaky party. Go find some kind of prostitution instead.”

“Hey, I just invited him over for some pizza and a movie night,” Illinois defended.

“Yeah right, which is why you have two of your friends about to make out in front of your kitchen, bunch of freaks is what they are,” Derek scoffed.

“What?” Illinois seethed, Eric was bad enough. Illinois might have never seen Eric getting hurt, but it was obvious enough. But Iplier and Host were a completely different thing. ���Insult me all you want, but you don’t get to attack my friends like that. They’re soulmates, they wanna kiss it’s fine. Not like it’s hurting you.”

“Did you see that freak? No one should be walking around like that, soulmate or not?” Derek looked like he wanted to physically spit in Illinois’s face.

Illinois wasn’t sure he would have stopped himself if he’d been able to think about his next action. He was pretty sure he was punching Derek for all the things. Eric had gone through, just as much as he was for what he was saying about Iplier and Host. But he pulled his fist back and slammed it squarely in Derek’s face.

Derek of course punched him back, which started their fist fight in the middle of the hallway. “You bastard!”

“I’ve been waiting to punch you since I first heard your voice, you asshole!” Illinois snapped back, it was all he could manage before his mind descended into a fit of rage. His mind had grabbed the first of many insults he’d thought of, one of thousands. One for every tear he’d caught Eric trying to stifle, every time Eric had flinched when Illinois stretched wrong.

Derek went to punch him in the stomach, making Illinois instinctively dodge the blow. Unfortunately he dodged the wrong way as Eric moved and Derek hit his son square in the stomach, knocking him to his knees.

Illinois looked over at Eric, distracted by the squeak of fear and pain that Derek got another shot on him. Not that Illinois cared much about getting punched in the stomach when Eric was clearly a much weaker and squishier target.

Kicking Derek in the shins bought him some time and more than a little bit of satisfaction. He turned over to Eric, trying to figure out how bad the hit had been.

“Are you hurt?” Illinois demanded, trying to look Eric over.

“He’s just being a baby,” Derek scoffed, standing up. “Eric, get up before you embarrass yourself even more.”

Illinois felt rage take him over. “You hit him in the stomach.”

“Not that hard,” Derek dismissed, and Illinois felt the urge to punch him again. “Sides, why do you care?”

Maybe it was the white hot fury that had taken over him. That Eric had been hit one too many times, had his lovely face marred too much. But Illinois held up the back of his hand, “He’s my soulmate, and you’re not going to touch him again.”

Eric and Derek both went silent, Eric flinched, just staring up at Illinois in shock. But Derek, after recovering from his shock, laughed; and Illinois felt himself getting somehow even angrier.

“You’re shitting me,” Derek laughed, pointing at the mark, “There is no way that’s Eric. Merck maybe, but you’d have a black mark if it was.”

“Then maybe you don’t know him at all,” Illinois snarled, wanting to punch Derek again.

“Right,” Derek snarled at him. “You listen well, you come anywhere near me or my sons again and I’ll finish what I—”

Derek suddenly went pale, and Illinois looked over his shoulder to see Host staring into Derek’s direction. In one of his hands was one of Illinois’s many steak knives, touching just the tip delicately to the palm of his hand. He was just looking over at them. The threat was clear.

“The Host thinks that Derek should leave while he still has the chance,” the Host said, finally glancing towards his hands.

“Creep,” Derek muttered, and turned, grabbing Eric by the arm to start dragging him towards their apartment. “Let’s go.”

“Let go of him!” Illinois ordered.

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own child,” Derek snarled. He roughly grabbed Eric by the arm. Illinois took a step forward before Eric finally spoke.

“I’ll be o-o-kay,” Eric stammered, clearly terrified. “G-G home.”

Illinois felt frozen in place, desperately wanting to help, and not knowing how to. That time was all Derek needed to angrily drag Eric inside the apartment, and when Illinois got the door. He heard a faint click of the lock. After a couple furious seconds and kicking the door, Illinois did go back to his apartment.

Host was still at the door, still playing around with a knife.

“How’d you know where he was, and who gave you this?” Illinois tried to laugh as he gently took the knife out of Host’s hands.

“Iplier did,” the Host smiled.

“Should we call the cops?” Iplier asked, looking down the hall.

“If I don’t see him tomorrow, yes,” Illinois agreed. “Hell only knows what’s going on in there.”

The three of them went back inside, Illinois kept his door unlocked, checking every once in a while to see if Eric was back outside. A couple more people came over, staying for a couple hours before leaving again, offering for Illinois to come out with them. Illinois refused. He was too worried, terrified of what was going on in the Derekson apartment.

Iplier and Host left his apartment sometime around one, Host getting too exhausted to stay up. Which just left Eric. Illinois was too jittery to sleep and was glad that tomorrow was the start of the break or else he didn’t know how he was going to get through the next day if it was a school day. Illinois was making himself a coffee when a soft knock came at the door. It was so faint, Illinois thought he’d just imagined it, but went to check on it anyways.

Illinois opened the door without checking, and his stomach dropped he recognized Eric. The guy was standing there, crying, a massive bruise in the shape of a large hand print that was forming on the side of his face along with a couple other bruises, and Illinois’s heart just about snapped in two. “I-I . . .” Eric looked away. “He . . .”

Illinois was immediately pushing his door open, gesturing for Eric to come inside. The relief in Eric’s tear stained face made Illinois want to storm over to Eric’s apartment and kick the door in to have round three with Derek.

“Yeah, of course,” Illinois finally managed when Eric was already halfway inside, “you’re always welcome.”

He did close the door behind Eric, trying to be careful of his movement.

“Are your fr-friends . . . still here?” Eric tried to force out.

“No, they had to leave early,” Illinois said. “Do you need me to call Iplier? He’s a doctor and he can—”

“No!” Eric called out desperately.

Illinois flinched.

Eric slapped his hand over his face and started crying, dropping to the ground as he began to sob, as if the outburst had been enough to completely knock him sideways.

Rushing over, Illinois wasn’t sure what to do and was surprised when Eric leaned towards him, crying into his chest.

“Eric,” Illinois sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“H-He kicked me out,” Eric sobbed brokenly. “Wh-Where am I su-pposed to go?”

Good riddance! Illinois, but had the good sense not to say it out loud, and certainly not to shout it.

“Your dad’s a piece of shit,” Illinois told him. “Stay here.”

“I d-don’t have a-a job,” Eric mumbled, looking down. “I can’t ge-get one c-cause of—”

Eric trailed off, looking down at his legs, suddenly cowed.

Illinois shrugged, “I’m not letting you go out there to fend for yourself. Stay here, there’s more than enough room.”

The timid man looked unsure, rubbing at his covered wrist.

“I don’t just want you here because you’re my soulmate,” Illinois smiled. “I want you here because you’re a good person who got kicked out of his home by his dumbass dad and you didn’t deserve it.”

Eric looked even more unsure, fully staring at his wrist.

“Can I see?” Illinois asked.

It took Eric a long time to move or say anything, but eventually he tugged the band free and Illinois saw what looked like a whip curled around Eric’s wrist. Illinois carefully and gently took it and traced it in his hands.

“I like the one you gave me,” Illinois held up the back of his hand.

“Th-That’s not li-ke me,” Eric commented miserably.

“Nah,” Illinois smiled. “You’re plenty brave. You did all kinds of stuff for me the last couple of weeks.”

Eric blushed, looking away again, this time with a little less fear in his eyes.

“Here,” Illinois gently pulled Eric up to stand, slowly moving his soulmate up. “Let me help you with those shiners on that very pretty face of yours, and then we can watch a movie. Iplier and Host left a lot of leftover pizza.”

Eric eyed the pizzas cautiously, clearly interested but nervous at the same time. “Th-ey wouldn’t mind?”

“Not if they want to have a movie night at my place again,” Illinois dismissed. Eric managed a very small smile as Illinois led him to the counter and let him choose a pizza. As Eric was eating, Illinois broke out his first aid kit and began dabbing at the bruises on his face with some antibacterial cream.

Eric fell asleep during the first movie they watched, curled up against Illinois’s side as Illy just looked down and watched him sleep.

Illinois decided as Eric began snoring lightly next to him, that Eric was everything that Illinois’s mark said he was. It took guts to try and stand up to his dad in the little ways he had, to still be so kind and caring as the world was trying to grind him down, and to come to Illinois’s apartment instead of going back and begging his dad to let him back in. 

Eric was plenty brave, and Illinois was sure his little lion was too good for this world. But Illinois would have to save his revenge on Derek for another moment. He had Eric safe, and that would have to be enough. Enough for both of them.

[livayl]

Tusks and Comfort

After getting increasingly annoying with my non snz Azra drawings I thought it´s time to finally post her first story. :P This is about Orcs and takes places before the outbreak of the great war. Meaning Shokhrakka is somewhere in his mid 30s. Azra is his 5 years younger half-sister.

When Azra falls ill during a shared hunting trip Shokhrakka shows off his great big-brother skills. There is also a really cute, young warg named Tusk. Warnings for: slight bad language at some points. Uncovered sneezing that does NOT hit anybody. It´s basically hurt-comfort mixed with a little snark and an adorable puppy. 

Please only reblog this to other snz-kink blogs, thank you. :)

Only enlighted in a dwindling, already dulled sundowns dusk the shaded hollows looked their name more than ever. Once a giant mountain so tall its peak had burst through the highest clouds, frozen and hostile even in summer, now a steep ravine reaching up to the heavens on both of its sides. Its charcoal intestines where streaked with an extensive cave system that intertwined almost infinitely; a careless individual would be forlorn, doomed to an early grave within the former giants cold corpse. Sharp, glistening slopes were disguised in malnourished trees and thorny bushes slightly punctuated with narrow paths only known by few. All cloaked in an ever present opaque fog that, swirling tightly around each figure, created new material for nightmares with each new veil. Obsidian rocks and faded green canopies now glistened with thousands of icy droplets as rainwater poured down heavily. Seeping and carving its own ways, adding new clouds of mist in its wake. As intimidating and dangerous as they were, the towering rock walls and the deeply shaded earth in between were the chosen nights accommodation for a small hunting party. Two orcs sat in a small, shallow cave. Closely huddled together with a full grown warg and its barely adolescent brother under a pointed ledge. Their quarry so consumed the carcass was barely discernible in the dim light. If one listened carefully, the soughing melody of rainfall was split by the edged sound of flint stone hitting gravel.

The wood was still young, freshly grown and thus more in sap than Azra would have preferred it to be. It took a while to ignite the wispy branches until a warm amber glow finally twirled them up in an almost hypnotic motion. She watched them getting devoured by the blazing dance until black billows veiled her sight.  The resulting smoke was thick, accompanied by ascending sparks and stung as it wafted skywards. 

This seemed to be more than her already assaulted senses could handle as the sharp stench crushed her last resolve and triggered a harsh, prolonged coughing fit. If that alone had not been embarrassing enough, successfully attracting her older half-brothers attention and hidden concern, the itch further up her nose seemed to have been kindled as well. Azra barely had time to fully avert her head or shield her mouth, the sudden urge to sneeze so strong it did not build but explode in a single loud almost primal gasp that did culminate in a rushed: "HEHR-ERSSSCHH-uh!" - that, released down her lap and barely restrained by tightly clenched jaws, escaped through the gap her massive tusks naturally left. Right in its wake came the second one, the irritation still persistently present, forcing her head to rear back as a deep inhale strained her chest. If not overwritten by the sheer urgency of this reflex Azra would have been aware of how frightening the displayed snarl appealed: An already grim face distorted even further, many argent piercings mirroring the fires unsteady flicker. Bushy brows drawn deeply together above teary crimson, slightly slanted eyes. The bridge of her orcish nose crinkled even more while her nostrils flared, curling upwards as did her upper lip, revealing mighty fangs: "Huuhrr-EISCHHAH!"

"Ew. Careful where you spit at." Came Shokhrakka reply from her left, his usual sonorous voice vibrating with suppressed amusement. "Fu-hah- Fu~ck-HEH-WRISSSCH! you- Snrfff."

The repeated disturbance had woken and attracted the younger wargs keen senses, made him scoot even closer to its source. His ashen coat still felt slightly damp as out sized, clawed paws scratched over leather clad skin and a cold, wet nose bumped against Azras bare arm. The cool touch evoked a  light shiver.   

"Aww....Sorry for startling you, Tuskie. Just snrrf some smoke drifted the wrong way." She gently cooed and rumpled through the wargs shaggy fur, carefully massaging his big triangular head with her own claws. Tusk immediately felt invited to cuddle into her side. Underestimating his own strength he nearly slammed into the Orc as he tried to climb into her lap. His tail kept wagging excitedly, fluffy butt following suit with each turn, which dulled his already feral appearance to looking like a long overgrown puppy. "Careful there." Azra chuckled, the low hum re-sparking an irritation deep in her aching throat to a burning blaze that threatened to lead to another coughing fit. 

"Gonna sneeze again?" Her brother asked while scrutinizing her facial features that had scrunched up in a subconscious painful wince. "Ugh I hope not. That was enough to last a damned month."

Shokhrakka smiled as the young warg had finally wrestled enough to reach his planned destination and leaned back against his best-friends chest, pink tongue lolling out in a vain attempt to lick over Azras face. His own heart lovingly-ached a little as Azras full lips curved upwards while her strong, long arms embraced his lanky body. Eyes shining brightly as she dodged the juveniles wet attempts of affection over and over again only to playfully pat and kiss Tusks forehead in between. Still, even shrouded by the crackling fires golden glow she seemed pallid and tired, grayish-olive skin that used to have a metallic hue now dulled dustily. Her nose and the area around her eyes were tinted unhealthily dark and the many adornments seemed to feel more irritating than gracing. The soft sheen was not able to blur the indications of exhaustion that had crept deeper into sharply chiseled expressions as the day had progressed.

  Maybe he should have listened to his instincts more than her assurances when this morning his half-sister had woken both of them up with a rattling cough. Sitting in a bed ruffled and damp with a nights cold sweat gleaming sickly like a lost wraith in a swamp. But as much as he already came to understand her, she would have denied any weakness and refused to postpone their hunting trip anyways. Sometimes a culture so obstinately driven with status of strength had its downsides. And little had he known of Azras unrelenting sense of pride born out of pure necessity that came with being a warrior in a culture dominated by men. Only the ever present display of both physical and mental health, a raw force sharpened to comprehensive might, had enabled her to become the warrior that was now feared and admired. Although her nose seemed to have forgotten this important knowledge as the twitching and widely flaring nostrils indicated the urge to relent and release another- or several- sneezes.

He silently observed her crinkling and rubbing said nose, lips already parted more than usual while her mouths corners slowly turned downwards. Then, sudden yet fluent like all her movements, she lifted the heavy warg from both to one knee, hands securely around its waist, inhaled deeply and sneezed harshly off to her free side: "hhhHH-HuhhrESSCHH-UH! -hhh-haah-ERRRSCHHaah!" The expulsions were accompanied by a fine but copious spray clearly made visible by the campfire´s backlight and followed by a volley of rattling, chesty coughs. Tusks ears flattened as he squirmed against her solid grip, his own nose trembled and chaps lifted from sharp teeth with concern at his owners violent spasms. "Hey... You´re alright?" Shokhrakka asked, unable to hide his worry any longer. "It´s all good" Azra sputtered out between coughs, still painfully twisted away from both the animal and her brother as much as possible. "You´re aware that the pup can´t catch anything from you, right?" "There´s nothing to catch." Azra replied, sarcasm unable to mask the rasp breaking her tone. "You were the one who told me to watch my spit. " 

"Come here pal, let´s give her a little more space to breath." Shokhrakka said and lifted the restless warg back down to the ground. "You are not getting sick on me out here, are you?" He then asked again, voice lowered to the warmest big-brother tone it was able to achieve. Shokhrakka could clearly see her conflicted between giving reassurance with a lie and the honesty his younger sister normally valued so much. "I-I caught a chill. Nothing bad. Just a little coughing and sneezing." She replied elusively. "A lot coughing and sneezing." Her brother replied flatly. Which wasn't an exaggeration. Through all the time he had traveled and fought aside his sister he had witnessed her ghastly injured and in oppressed pain but had rarely heard or seen a sign of illness. Neither a prolonged fever, cough nor sneeze. In fact the only incident he could recall the later was a harsh double brought about by one of those nasty herbal ingredients- and that felt like months ago.

Azra shivered violently against Tusks warm body and tried to focus on the steady dripping sound of rain and the swooshing movement of paddling paws. The not so little puppy seemed to hunt in his dreams as well- his legs and ears twitching and moving alertly from time to time. Sometimes emitting a low, humming growl that vibrated his whole frame. Azra had barely managed to suppress any more symptoms but had not been able to eat and now it appeared she had lost her ability to sleep as well. Unable to breath through her nose she had to keep her mouth open which irritated her sore and aching throat even further. Threatened to cause convulsive coughing fits every few minutes that she fought fiercely to muffle and suppress. A fight she was predestined to loose.

Amid one of those battles she felt one of Shokhrakkas big and rough hands clumsily rub semicircles between her shoulder blades. Sadly it did little to sooth the tight feeling in her chest, right above her lungs where all the coughing made it ache deeply. "Gross. If you want to cuddle you´re barking up the wrong tree. Sleep, brother." "As if anyone could with all of your baying." "... Sorry for keeping you awake." "Don´t worry about it." "I could go outside." Azra suggested. 

In truth she had tried to get up to go outside twice after their wargs had fallen asleep, snoring soundly. Either prevented by  a sudden vertigo or Shokhrakkas sudden yet strong grip around her ankle. Not that she could not have been stronger, she thought, when reality was that her whole body felt so weak and wobbly she did not trust herself wrestling with an infant yet alone a fully grown Orc. For tonight it seemed like wrestling that nasty illness was all Azra could spend her remaining strength for. As a new coughing fit forced her to press an already sodden piece of cloth tightly against her mouth, her nose, that damned pesterer, caught the opportunity to follow suit with being intrusive. The prickling tickle spread swiftly, almost stabbing the insides of her already widely flaring nostrils and forced her to suck in a deep rattling breath.

Gods be fucking damned she wished...- "hh hheh HHH-HURRR-ESSCHH!"- she could be- "haah-HERSCHHH-ah!"- more- "HDT-ERSSCHHUH!"- hell not again- "HRAH-EESCHHH-uh!"- quiet... Tusk had woken again, jumped up and looked around confusedly. Sensing no danger, his intelligent eyes stopped their search and locked into Azras own. Two gleaming, golden beacons met smoldering red abysses in the caves dusky twilight. Azras shivering worsened the moment the warm and heavy weight in front of her was gone and she started to curl inward against the sudden chill. "Come on, get up if you can. I´ll spark the fire a little more."

Shokhrakka had tried not to let his worry bleed through too much. But as the awakening flames started their crackling waltz, casting flickering shadows and emitting hordes of glowing sparks, they poured a warm, revealing light over Azras shaking figure. The flaring blaze further illuminated her hollow and pale face that had a glow on it´s own- burning with fever and decorated with glittering droplets of cold sweat around her brow and protruding horns. She squinted her once blazing eyes that seemed dulled to gleaming coal. More swallowing the light than reflecting it.

And it did not seem like she would make it the few steps without an accident. She was swaying dangerously while rising, close to toppling over into the flames. The last thing they needed were burn wounds. "Let me help you." Shokhrakka said, doing his best to sustain his sisters body despite her increasingly growing growls and tension. "Let go or I´ll bite you." She hissed between bared fangs. "Yeah because your feeling so hot you can withstand the flames. Here, sit."   Shokhrakka sat down next to the fire, on the smoke averted side, and leaned her against his shoulder on one and the cave walls on the other side for support. Tusk whined faintly, unable to snuggle against his orcish friend without risking to singe his fur. He then turned to bark at his older sister who, still tired and worn from hunting, just yawned in response.

"I can sit by myself." Azra mumbled hoarsely but felt more steady with her brothers tall body seated next to her. Firm, scarred and even a little protective as the shaded hollows themselves. "Hush." "You don´t have to stay up with me." She said a little embarrassed and watched Tusk playfully biting into Varz tail. The elder warg turned to snap at him with an annoyed snarl that started a bickering not unusual for the diverse siblings. "Psst." "You´ll get sick too." "Thought it was  just a little coughing and sneezing." "Ye-hhehh-yes... Still." "I won´t get sick."

As much as she hated and dreaded it at the same time, this wretched illness seemed eager to test her brothers immune resolve, reigniting a tickle that had been sparked by the sudden firelight. With Shokhrakka so close she saw no choice but to contain the incoming eruptions as best as possible even if she knew how painful that could end. "Huh-" Azras breath started to hitch and as her lungs drew in a deep breath. She crushed her tickling nose between thumb and forefinger while simultaneously shielding her mouth with the palm of the same hand. "-Haaa-HDT-ERSCH-uh! HehDZSCH-ah..." She could not have done anything to avoid the sneezes, neither was she able to bite back the pained groans after every one. "Ouch. Need to wipe your nose?" "Ndo... Uh..." She managed to answer through thick congestion pounding in her even heavier head while pondering if it would be too disgusting to wipe her soiled hand on her tunic. Screw it, she had done worse. 

"Gross." Azras brother mimicked her former statement only to lessen the impact with an olive branch clad in a soft handkerchief. "Didn't know you own a thing like that." "I´m always good for surprises." Shokhrakka replied over her productive noseblow that was followed by an even more yielding yawn. "Try to sleep a little." "I´m not tired..." Azra mumbled. Her eyes caught sight of Tusk and Varz who had ended their little quarrel and were starting to lay down next to each other. Their breaths already coming in slow, relaxed huffs. 

She felt the pleasantly soothing warmth of the campfire caressing her front and her sides steadied against both rock solid and safe surfaces; one cold and the other feeling like home. Azras eyes slowly drifted shut, breathing deepening and less labored through the upright position. The soft cloth fell out of her grip as dreams sung their relaxing melodies from afar. Sleep did not sound that bad....

[gayfraphne]

If there was a new show being created and you had a chance to add to everyone’s personality and motivations and future what would you do?

i get this question all the time, and i’ve made about a billion posts about it. (actually, i’ve made three. you can look at them here, here, and here,) because of that, i’ve decided to make this sort of an alternate universe. also, i’m definitely writing this into a fic.

i’d like to preface this by saying that i’ve been watching a lot of young justice and other dc stuff lately, so i wanted to play with the fact that scooby doo is canonically a part of the dc universe. not necessarily a crossover, but that kind of world- with evil legions trying to take over the world, and strange science pushing the boundaries of what seems possible. crazy lab experiments giving humans and animals strange powers and nobody ever staying dead when they should.

in this au, the gang didn’t start off as friends, but were brought together by some sort of top secret government branch to put a stop to all the strange things happening- forming a league of appropriately skilled “good guys” to fight evil together. like all classic task forces, the gang have trouble getting close at first and it isn’t until they realise that they’re employers aren’t as “good” as they were lead to believe that they can truly become a family and work together to stop the evil which surrounds them from all sides.

FREDbackstory: when fred was a baby, his father (the mayor of coolsville) discovered that he actually wasn’t fred’s real dad. he killed fred’s mother, fred’s real father and- having developed a taste for it- like ten other people. Fred became fascinated with the case and, believing his father to be guilty, caught him himself. now (being the only family that fred has) fred visits him in prison when he’s having problems, and his fake-dad gives him spooky advice (i swear to god i had this idea before riverdale). he was a natural choice to be the appointed leader of the gang, because if he were willing to have his own father sent to prison, he clearly wouldn’t let his conscience stop him from doing the hard stuff.personality: the whole thing with his dad sort of left fred with an obsession with justice. he’s willing to do absolutely anything (including sacrificing himself) to stop a criminal. he also has a strong sense of “found family” about the gang, and is EXTREMELY protective of them. he constantly walks on the edge of hero and anti-hero, and his darker instincts and urges threaten to burst out at any moment (this is fred’s weakness- he’s suffered so much trauma that he’s well on his way to becoming exactly like his father, which is the one thing he wants more than anything to avoid.) he still has a dorky, earnest innocence about him, which many women find charming. he’s killed men, but when it comes to sex and romance he’s completely unaware. he has a real passion for film, and looks up to noire detectives like the maltese falcon.

DAPHNEbackstory: her rich family used to be some of the world’s biggest crooks. i’m talking biblical, final arch of a comic series evil. because of this, daphne was raised to be an assassin. more combat training than anyone would know what to do with, sharp-shooting- you name it. her family viewed her as a currency- “alone time” with the blakes’ hot daughter was viewed as payment in the criminal underground. so, when they finally took down her family, it seemed only natural that daphne put her skills to good use by joining the gang.personality: her horrifying teen years have left her grizzled, with a “win at all costs” mentality, not unlike fred’s. she’s not shy about using her body or feminine wiles to get what she wants, as that was always the way when growing up. while fred is more prone to the violent outburst, her chaos is much more calculated. she’s able to turn off her emotions whenever necessary, and never hesitates to kill. of course, she has a softer side, too. it’s hard to break her machine mentality, but once you do, she can be very kind and caring, and takes care of the gang like an older sister- nursing them when hurt, encouraging them when upset, etc. legend has it that fred has made her blush on a few occasions, but both parties will deny this adamantly. sex and romance are a means of obtaining power, and she hesitates to allow them to become anything more.

SHAGGYbackstory: shaggy’s mother immigrated from the philippines and raised shaggy all by herself. they lived an extremely modest life- her working a constantly rotating series of minimum wage jobs to support him. shaggy was a slacker with no real skills, and couldn’t understand why he was brought onto this team. of course, he had no way of knowing that the man in charge of this secret government organization was his real father, hoping to keep an eye on him (and turn him to the dark side).personality: being brought up in such a low income home, shaggy’s main concerns are having food to eat and a roof to sleep under, and couldn’t really care less about materialism. he’s a total wisecracker, who always has something funny to say, even at the worst times. he’s the most grounded of the gang and is usually the one to call everyone else out when they start to forget what’s really important. he cares about the gang, but he’s a self-preservationist before anything else, and wouldn’t hesitate to leave them in danger if it means saving his own life. he has a strong bond with daphne and velma and can always get them to open up, but was never able to get as close to fred, who is his complete opposite.

VELMAbackstory: a jewish mexican who grew up in a relatively low income family, who owned a small book store. velma spent her whole childhood reading books about all kinds of different things, and left her with the intelligence she needed to graduate high school by the age of fourteen. she took several online university courses in the meantime, and had several degrees by the age of seventeen. her super genius made her an ideal member of the gang.personality: velma grew up without any friends, which left her without social skills. she’s extremely logical, to the point where other people’s feelings go right over her head. she secretly yearns to have close bonds with people, but her attempts always seem to fall short. she’s extremely distrusting and not afraid to be cruel as a way of building barriers to keep people from learning about her insecurities. she has a nasty habit of comparing herself to others, especially daphne. velma masks her feelings of inferiority with intense hubris, convincing everyone that she doesn’t care that they don’t like her to mask how much she really does.

[puthyflapps]

NFWMB chapter six

It’s finally here! All 5,551 words finally! Please enjoy

It has been three days; Three days of constant wandering and worrying. The blisters on her ankles and feet worsened with every step she took. Her legs and lower back ached insistently and her head throbbed. Anya had grown up in these forests. She had climbed the tallest trees and swam in the deepest rivers. A place that at one point had brought her so much happiness and calmed her now seemed to only mock her. The branches she once gleefully swung from now hang ominously in her way. The lush grass she would lay in and allow to swallow her whole now only slows her steps.

   She was slowly beginning to lose her mind and temper and it was becoming rather obvious to her fellow warriors. The usually calm and collected General was slowly becoming more unraveled the longer they spent in the expansive Trikru forest. Anya’s grasp on reality was beginning to slip. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and being pulled in ten different directions at once. The search for this omega — for Raven — was slowly driving her insane but she refuses to return to camp without the woman. She refuses to enter the campsite and watch Clarke crumble to the ground in agony at the absence of her friend. She refuses to allow that waste of space, Belomi Kom Skaikru, to win. The thought of him outsmarting her, of being able to successfully hide this omega in the same forest Anya grew up in left the sourest of tastes in her mouth.

   The alpha comes to a stop by a large tree as she feels the anger beginning to bubble up inside her as they inch deeper into the forest. She can feel it burning in the pit of her and expanding to tingle at the tips of her fingers. Closing her eyes and balling her fists, she takes a deep breath in but the smells of the forest doing nothing to calm her. Instead, they mock her and remind her of her shortcomings. The General can’t take it anymore. She swiftly turns to her side and sends her fists plummeting into the harsh bark of the nearby tree. Anya continues to send punch after punch flying into the tree until she can no longer hear the worried murmurs of her warriors. The sound of her heavy breathing fills her ears as the skin on her knuckles begins to shred away every time her fists connect with the tree trunk. The feeling of her bones making contact with the bark soothes her in the most violent of ways. Her blows begin to slow down and lose their force but coming to a complete stop. The alpha rests her head against the sturdy tree as blood continues to coat her hands.

   “…General-,” one of her warriors finally speaks up but she cuts the man off.

   “Just…give me a moment,” the exhausted woman pleads with him.

   “Sha,” the beta answers before instructing the rest of the group to give their leader some space.

   Anya was beginning to question everything. Was she headed in the right direction? Did she leave enough warriors patrolling the Skaikru camp? Was she the best to lead this search? Should they return to camp before setting out to try and locate Raven once more? All these thoughts and questions swirling around in her head make it impossible to think straight. The alpha can feel panic begin to take hold of her body causing her to start breathing heavily like her lungs were on fire. She frantically reaches into her coat pocket, bloody fingers grasping onto a familiar sheet of paper. She unfolds it as fast as she possibly can. Anya wills her honey brown orbs to focus on nothing but the beautiful face decorating the paper in her hand.

   “Where are you?” She pleads to the woman’s picture. All Anya wants, all she needs is a sign. She begs and pleads with the spirits of the past Commanders and any gods willing to listen to just giver her something, anything that could help lead her to the omega.

   “General?” The timid voice of Erik filters into the woman’s ears. He’s a young alpha from the Blue Cliff clan and an extremely skilled tracker for someone his age. The boy wasn’t known for being talkative, he preferred to remain silent and let the forest and all its inhabitants speak for themselves. That’s why his speaking up caught the woman off guard.

   “Yes, Erik?” Anya asks exhaustion tinting her words as she turns her attention from the drawing in her hand to the boy.

   “Look!” He whispers with pure excitement. The boy’s eyes are wide as he points past the General to the neighboring tree line. She turns around and there she sees it, resting on a branch of what looks to be a pine tree sits a familiar looking bird. The midnight black of the animal’s feathers giving away exactly what kind of bird it is. There, hidden amongst the trees and watching over her like some kind of guardian angel was none other than a raven. Like a beacon in the night it was calling to her.

   The alpha takes slow, steady steps toward the animal. If Erik hadn’t have pointed out the creature then she surely would’ve thought the bird was nothing more than a hallucination, a mirage intended to drive her even crazier. The way the bird’s beady eyes stared into hers made her shudder. It was as if the animal was staring through her body and right into her soul willing her to understand why it was sent there.

   She must’ve been standing in front of the bird for some time as her fellow warriors had moved to stand beside her, intrigued by what their leader was doing. It was an odd sight to see — a group of grounders gathered around one tree, staring at a singular bird perched high in the tree’s canopy. The General watches the bird intensely trying to figure out if the deities she had just prayed to moments ago actually took pity on her. She gets her answer when the bird squawks at her before taking flight. She turns sharply on her heel making her way back to her horse as fast as possible. Once she is seated on top of the powerful steed she takes one final look at the picture in her hand and whispers a ‘thank you’ to whatever powers in the forest listened to her pleas. The alpha folds the paper back up and gently stuffs it in her coat pocket before addressing her warriors.

   “Follow that bird,” she says with a new found confidence.

   “General…seeing that bird…it was nothing more than a coincidence. I understand that you are tired and frustrated — we all are — but, you are not actually considering following that creature are you?” Asks another alpha in the group. Anya knows she sounds absolutely insane at this moment but at this point, she had no other options. She had begged and pleaded for a sign and there is certainly no clearer sign than the one that had just flown away from her.

   “You can ride with me or you can find your way back to camp. The choice is yours,” she states with all the authority in the world. She doesn’t wait for the warrior to answer as she instructs her horse to start moving in the direction the bird had flown. Members of the search party look around at one another curiously before mounting their own horses and following after the female alpha. This had to be it, Anya had no other options left. She had set out on this journey to rescue the omega and return her to her friend but now it was a matter of her own sanity. If she didn’t find the woman and soon, she would truly go mad. If she had to return to camp and tell Clarke that her oppressors won once again, it would haunt her until her dying days.

   She kicked the heel of her boot into the side of her horse urging them to run faster. She tightened her fists around the horse’s reigns causing her knuckles to turn white. The alpha directed the strong beast through shrubbery and around sharp turns. She knows it's different this time. Those feelings of anxiety have now been replaced by adrenaline. She doesn’t know how to describe it, she doesn’t have the vocabulary to explain what it is but she can feel it. This feeling of knowing begins to bubble up in her stomach and spread like wildfire throughout her body, tickling all her senses. Her heart pounds and her hands sweat. She can feel it, she knows it, she is completely sure of it. They are close.

    The windy air drifts gently by the girl’s small frame as she stands in the far corner of the camp. The day’s unusually low temperature causes a chill to run through her and makes her pull her jacket tighter around her body. It had been over an hour since she had last seen her brother and she was beginning to get irritated. She had been meaning to speak with him about the terrifying grounders posted outside the gates of their camp but the alpha had felt that fucking a pair of beta girls was far more important. Like the rest of the camp, Octavia couldn’t believe there were other people living on Earth. She had heard a few rumors from a couple of alpha boys about the grounders but she didn’t expect them to be real and she certainly didn’t expect them to be so intimidating.

   As soon as that General — Anya, she remembers — had entered the camp she had known she was an alpha. The woman’s angry pheromones had rolled off of her in heavy waves and pricked the nose of every alpha and beta around. Octavia had met several alphas but none as powerful as this woman. That’s what made her threat of death so terrifying. Just thinking about the woman’s proposition to join this so-called “coalition” or perish gave the young woman anxiety. The grounders are savages and who’s to say living under their rule would be any better than life on the ark.

   Since Clarke had foolishly run away from camp and possibly right into the hands of the grounders, their camp had practically been on lockdown. Her brother had taken it upon himself to ensure that Raven would not suffer the same fate. Bellamy had only been able to sneak out to check on the omega once and that was the brief period of time after Anya and her army of savages had momentarily stepped away from the camp. Later that night a couple of beta boys had managed to create a distraction by starting a physical altercation with the guards. The fights didn’t last long because much to her chagrin, the grounders knew how to kick ass but it did give Bellamy just enough time to sneak back into camp through a hole in their fencing and pretend like he never left.

   Octavia can feel her mind running a mile a minute and her heart thumping in her chest as she thinks about the complicated situation they’ve landed themselves in. The only thing that seems to break her focus is the light rattling of metal behind her. She turns just in time to see her brother arrogantly exiting the dropship with the beta girls hanging off his arms. She can see his dark brown curls are messier than usual and a sheen of sweat covers his features letting her know whatever it was those three were doing in there, it definitely wasn’t PG. ‘Gross’ she thinks to herself as she tries to eliminate the image of her brother and those two girls from her head. Octavia clears her throat in an attempt to get the alpha’s attention. He appears to be taken off guard when he raises his head to find his sister with her arms crossed, staring him down. He tells the girls to give him a minute before returning his attention to his sister and asking dryly, “What?”

   “We need to talk about this, Bell” Octavia answers harshly. The alpha rolls his eyes as he makes his way down the metal ramp and pushes past his worrisome sister. She stalks after him, hot on his trail and doesn’t allow him to get very far before she reaches out and takes hold of his arm yanking it and causing him to whirl around.

   “There is nothing to talk about, Octavia.”

   “Bullshit,” she spits at him causing him to growl menacingly in her face. The action makes her legs tremble and she can’t stop herself from baring her neck in submission. She waits until his pheromones aren’t tinged with anger anymore before speaking, “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about these grounders. What are we gonna do, Bell?”

   “We’re not gonna do anything. The forest around here is so big that they’re never going to find her and in a couple of days the rest of the ark will be down and we won't have to worry about these savages.” Arrogance rolls off of the alpha as he says his piece but it does very little to quell the worry in his sister. In fact, the idea of the ark coming down does nothing but make her even more anxious.

   “I don’t know, Bell. Everything is just so complicated. I’m worried about Raven and Clarke. Why would she run away?”

   “You know how Princess is, O. She always has to be in control. She probably was just angry that the alphas stepped in to take care of things and fix her mistakes. She always has to be the center of attention,” he shrugs as he answers his sister’s question so nonchalantly. Everything about him screams confidence from the way he stands so casually with his hands in his pockets like they aren’t facing the possibility of annihilation to his charming smile that made you want to believe every word that dripped from his lips.

   “I guess, I just…do you ever think we shouldn’t have kept them locked up?”

   “Do you think I wanted to do that? It was for their own protection, O. Do you know what they would do to an omega in heat around here? We’re surrounded by delinquents, it was the only way to keep them safe from these criminals.” Bellamy removes his large hands from his pockets and places them comfortingly on her shoulders as he attempts to calm her down and drive home his point. He pauses momentarily and takes a quick glance around camp to make sure no one was privy to their conversation.

   “You out of everyone should know I would never hurt an omega.”

   “You’re right, I’m sorry. Everything is just so fucked up at the moment and I’m worried that things will only get worse when the ark comes down,” she admits and the alpha is quick to quell her worries.  

   “Hey, everything will be fine. I’ll keep you safe like I always do.” He lightly kisses her forehead and runs his hands from her petite shoulders down her arms pausing briefly to slip something into her hand before walking away. Octavia watches him saunter through the camp with such bravado. When he’s far away and she finally can’t make out his form she opens her hand revealing a singular white pill. There, in the palm of her hand, sits the one thing that has been keeping her safe since she was on the ark and hiding under the floorboard. The woman warily casts her eyes around the immediate area making sure no one was around to watch as she popped the pill into her mouth and swallowed before taking her time strolling back to her sleeping quarters.

It has been three days and no word from Anya. Lexa was beginning to think the worst. She was stressed beyond belief with all that was going on. The Commander was burning the metaphorical candle at nineteen different ends it seemed. She was still having to deal with conflicts amongst the clans despite not being in Polis. Her warriors were growing rather tired of being away from their families and she couldn’t blame them. What was supposed to be no more than a weeks trip was slowly approaching the two-week mark; to top it all off, the omega in her tent was not handling the absence of her friend very well.

   Clarke had refused to sleep in the alpha’s bed again and instead had decided to take up residence on the floor. The omega refused to eat more than a few bites of food as well. Lexa assumed she was doing this to punish herself for what she thought was her fault. It killed Lexa to see her like this and it only reinforced these feelings of hatred she held for the SkaiKru people. She used to think that death by a thousand cuts was the worst punishment someone could receive but now, sitting in front of the omega as she pushes around the little bit of food on her plate refusing to eat once again, she’s not so sure if that’s severe enough for the people who have made her like this.

   “Klark, you need to eat,” the alpha's voice is tinged with a combination of sadness and exhaustion.

   “I’m not hungry.”

   “Reivon would want you to eat,” she insists but it only seems to upset the woman in front of her even more. She can see tears begin to well up in the blonde’s cerulean orbs that despite the somber circumstances they are in have become one of her favorite sights.

   “You don’t know what she would want. You don’t know her…or you didn’t know her. I’m not sure which one because I'm not sure if she’s alive or dead.” A stray tear rolls down the porcelain skin of the omega’s face and Lexa would love nothing more than to reach out and wipe it away but she knows that would be selfish of her to invade Clarke’s space at this time.

   “I understand you are worried about your friend but, I know that she would not have wanted you to escape death only for you to kill yourself.” Her words must’ve struck a nerve in the other woman. The omega wipes her tears and gives the slightest nod before responding, “I know but I really am not hungry right now.” Lexa offers a small smile and takes the plate from the woman’s hands. She reaches up to place the object on the wooden table nearby before returning her attention to Clarke.

   “Will you allow me to take you to see Niko so that he may change your bandages?” Clarke casts a worried glance at Lexa. The thought of stepping out of the sanctuary that is the Commander’s tent gave her anxiety. To be out in the open surrounded by all those alphas and betas brought up her memories of the camp she had just escaped. She can feel a warm hand slip into hers and the familiar calming scent of pine filling the room as the alpha attempts to soothe her.

   “You won't leave me, right?”

   “Of course not. I will never leave you,” the brunette answers running her thumb over the soft skin of Clarke’s hand. The words are so simple but the way they’re said…the woman who says them makes Clarke feel like perhaps there was more to the reassurance. However, she quickly rids her mind of those preposterous thoughts. How positively delusional of her to think the alpha cared for her in that way. She barely knows Lexa and just because she hasn’t treated her terribly in the few days they’ve known one another means nothing. Besides that, Lexa is the Commander. She’s the most powerful alpha on Earth so why would she waste her time on a lowly omega like Clarke? The woman probably has hoards of people throwing themselves at her and plenty of them would be willing to keep her sheets warm.

   “Clarke?” Lexa’s curious voice breaks her from her thoughts. Shaking her head she focuses her attention back on the emerald eyes before her and replies, “That would be fine.”

“Good,” the alpha states standing up and helping the omega to her feet. The two exit the tent hand-in-hand. The sun is bright and it shines in Clarke’s eyes illuminating the blue Lexa loves so much. The brunette allows Clarke to lean a majority of her weight onto her as they begin their slow trek through the camp. She makes sure not to walk too fast as she knows that the woman is severely lacking muscle mass which makes it rather difficult for her to walk.

   As the two women make their way through the campsite they are greeted by several warriors who are happy to see that the omega is in better shape than the last time they saw her. Lexa was used to the attention but it seemed to make Clarke uncomfortable if the way she tightened her grip on Lexa’s bicep was any indication. The alpha released calming pheromones as she whispered into the omega’s ear that she is fine and that everyone is just excited to see her. Clarke nods her head in understanding but still maintains her death grip on the Commander’s arm. They have almost made it to the healer's hut when they are approached by another alpha.

   He’s a tall man with his shaved into what appears to be a mohawk. His skin was tanner than Lexa’s but not as dark as some of the other people Clarke had seen. The alpha was very muscular and it made Clarke nervous. When they stopped walking she practically hid her whole body behind Lexa as the two grounders greeted one another.

   “Heda,” the muscular man says baring his neck in submission. Lexa nods at him before turning to speak to woman hiding behind her. “Clarke, this is Linkon Kom Trikru. Linkon, this is Klark Kom Skaikru.” Lincoln smiles at Clarke and extends his hand to say hello but when the omega does nothing but stare at the ground he realizes that perhaps she’s not ready for that kind of physical contact yet. Placing his hand back by his side he tries a different approach, “It is very nice to meet you, Klark.”

   “Remember the other day when you asked to draw a picture of Reivon?” Lexa asks noticing that Clarke still wasn’t engaging in conversation with the kind man. “The charcoals I brought you belong to Linkon. He is an artist like you.”

   “Do you want them back? I am sorry, I didn’t mean to keep them,” Clarke asks worriedly. Lincoln smiles and shakes his head before answering, “No, I have plenty of charcoal, I promise. I have pencils too and paint…lots of paint.” The omega perks up at that and can’t help but excitedly blurt out, “Paint?” The sound of the omega being excited over some as simple as the idea of someone having paint makes Lexa feel like she has butterflies floating around in her chest.

   “In Polis, you can get paint of any color,” the man says enthusiastically.

   “Polis?” asks Clarke as she tilts her head in confusion. Lexa smiles at the action and answers, “It is our capital. Polis will change the way you think of us.”

   “You already have,” she responds to the female alpha. Her voice barely above a whisper but just loud enough for Lexa to catch it. The two stare at one another, blue meeting green as they appear to have some kind of unspoken conversation. They find themselves almost getting lost in each other’s gaze until Lincoln speaks up, “I will let you two get back on your way. Perhaps, when you feel up to it, Klark, we could make some art together.” Clarke smiles at the gentleman before answering, “Yes, I would like that a lot. Is that okay?” She hurriedly asks Lexa after realizing she never asked permission to indulge in such an activity. Lexa simply smiles and nods her head at the woman, “Of course, you may do whatever you please.” That’s the first time Clarke has ever heard those words and if she wasn’t leaning against the alpha who muttered them then she might have collapsed on the ground out of pure shock.

Lincoln bids the pair goodbye and makes his way back to his post. Lexa coaxes Clarke out from behind her and the women resume their walk to Niko’s tent. The healer had told the Commander that he could instruct her on how to treat the omega’s wounds since she wasn’t comfortable with leaving the confines of the alpha’s bedroom. However, Lexa is not a healer and it makes her anxious to think she could potentially do something wrong and that it could hurt Clarke. She much preferred the skilled hands of the older omega to her inexperienced ones.

They make it to the healer’s work area just as another warrior is exiting the tent. The beta woman greets the two of them with a respectful nod and asks, “Heda, SkaiPrisa, how are you today?” The alpha tries not to smile at the nickname her people have given the omega who is rather confused by the foreign words. “Osir laik good, Rowon. Osir laik hir kom see Niko.”

“I see, well, you are in good hands. Niko is the best healer in all the twelve clans,” the woman, Rowan, says more to the nervous omega than to the Commander.

“Mochof, Rowon.” Lexa says appreciatively.

“Leidon, Heda. Goodbye, Klark,” the warrior responds with a smile before exiting and leaving the other two women to enter Niko’s hut. Clarke obviously had not gotten a good look at the place the last time she was here. Looking around the space she saw shelves lined with all sorts of things from teas to poultices. Her mother had taught her quite a lot about medicine on the ark and now seeing all the supplies this man has makes Clarke eager to learn about how the grounder’s use alternative medicine. Lexa said she could work on art with Lincoln, perhaps, she might even let her shadow Niko. The omega makes a mental note to ask the alpha later.

“Heda, Klark, how can I help you?” Niko asks drawing Clarke’s attention away from all the treasures scattered throughout the tent.

“Klark’s bandages need changing if you do not mind, Niko.” The man nods his head and smiles sweetly at the two of them almost like he knows a secret they don’t. It makes Clarke a little wary and causes her to nervously bounce from one foot to another. Her grip on Lexa’s bicep never faltering even when the brunette whispers in her ear that she will be okay as she leads her to the familiar exam table. The alpha helps Clarke onto the table and takes her pale hand comfortingly into her tan one. Niko takes a seat in front of the blonde and begins to work on re-bandaging her wounds from bottom to top.  

“How are you feeling Klark? I see that your eye isn’t as swollen anymore. Now I can see that you have two pretty blue eyes.” He talks to her trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible. His large hands begin to unravel the wrappings on her leg where she was cut by a thorn bush.

“I am getting better but I’m still very sore.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I will make a poultice for your muscles as well as a tea. I’ll have it delivered to the Commander’s tent for you.” Clarke murmurs a soft ‘thank you’ to the healer who replies, “You won’t be thanking me for very long. We have to disinfect your wounds before I can reapply and bandages.”

“I understand. My mother is a doctor so I know the procedure.”

“Then you understand that it may burn slightly?” He asks the omega not wanting her to have to endure any more pain but knowing that the wounds must be cleaned.

“Yes, I understand-”

“I don’t. What do you mean it will burn? Why are you not using something safer?” The alpha speaks up, her uneasiness clearly evident in her scent.

“There is no other way to ensure that the wounds are clean and infection won’t happen, Heda.” The healer tries his best to soothe the upset woman but it doesn’t appear to be working. She’s already begun to release angry pheromones when Clarke finally speaks up, “It’s okay, Lexa. It will just sting for a moment.” The blonde omega starts to release her own pheromones to dull the ones rolling off of the Commander. Lexa casts an unsure look at her but Clarke is quick to squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Ok, please continue, Niko.”  Lexa stands back allowing the older omega to work. She uses all of the self-control she can muster at the moment to remain reserved but that all flies out the window as soon as the healer pours the slightest amount of disinfectant onto the omega’s cut causing her to let out a pained whimper. As soon as the noise hits Lexa’s ears she pushes her way in-between Clarke and the man almost knocking him off his small stool. The alpha lets out the meanest warning growl and it causes the omega man to instantly bare his neck in submission.

“Lexa, stop!” Clarke shouts from behind the alpha as she pumps out as many soothing pheromones as possible. The sound of the worried voice mixed with the calming vanilla scent is enough to garner her attention. Turning around she can see the frightened face of the omega and it simply breaks her heart. She couldn’t keep herself under control for five minutes and now Clarke is probably terrified of her.

“I am sorry, Niko. I do not know what came over me, I apologize,” The alpha says sheepishly.

“It is okay, Heda but perhaps, you might want to stand outside while I tend to the rest of Klark’s wounds.”

Lexa looks between the two concerned omegas. She feels terrible for her outburst and possibly making the omegas uncomfortable. Turning back to Clarke she whispers solemnly, “…I promised I wouldn’t leave you.” Clarke squeezes her hand once more before replying, “You’re not leaving me. I’ll be right here and you’ll be just outside.” The alpha nods and squeezes the omega’s hand back before making her way out of the tent.

About thirty minutes pasty before Niko comes out of the hut to speak with her Lexa. When the Commander doesn’t see Clarke by his side she begins to worry, “Niko, is Klark ok?”

“Sha, Heda. The SkaiPrisa is fine. I asked her if I could speak with you before you two leave.”

“What is it you would like to speak with me about?”

“You and Klark have gotten rather close these past few days. I have seen many bonds in my lifetime but this is different,” he pauses momentarily to collect himself.

“What are you trying to say, fisa?” She asks confusedly.

“Earlier, in the tent, when you were upset because you thought I was hurting Klark,” he swallows nervously trying to think of a way to say what he believes to be true. “Your eyes, Heda, they changed colors.”

“As do all wolves eyes when they are angered.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t your normal gold color…your eyes turned red.”

“Impossible and even if that were true, what would that even mean?” She asks as the man’s crypticness starts to irritate her.

“I have never seen it first hand. I have read about it in books and heard some of the clans’ elders speak about it but-”

“Get on with it Niko,” the alpha states impatiently.

“I believe you and Klark are-”

“Heda!” Someone calls out to Lexa. The Commander turns her attention to the source of the voice and notices her warriors beginning to form a large crowd at the entrance of the camp. She can’t tell what is happening as she can’t see past the giant wall of warriors. They continue to urgently shout for her attention and right as she’s about to ask Niko to check on Clarke, the omega comes bursting out of the tent.

“What’s happening?” The omega asks frantically. Lexa places her arm in front of Clarke in an effort to keep her from advancing further. “I don’t know, stay here.”

“Lexa!”

“Stay. Do not go anywhere. Niko, make sure she is safe.”

“Sha, Heda.”

The Commander slowly approaches the large group of warriors and just like the mighty sea they all part for her to reveal the form of her General. The woman was holding the bloody and beaten body of an omega. If Lexa didn’t already know who it was resting in Anya’s arms then surely the absolutely blood-curling scream from Clarke would have explained well enough. Whatever Niko had insisted upon telling her earlier about her relationship with Clarke will most certainly have to wait.

Previous chapter

Trigedasleng translations:

Skaiprisa: sky princess/princess of the sky

Osir laik good, Rowon: We are good, Rowan 

Osir laik hir kom see Niko: We are here to see Niko

Mochof: thank you

Leidon: goodbye

[swordsandmagic-blog]

/closed/

@murkoffjanitor ((sorry it’s so long, obviously you don’t have to match))

Walter had been in the middle of getting dressed, I was the beginning of sunrise so it was still fairly dark. He jumped when he heard a deep voice in his head, it felt as though it went right through him, he paused to look around to see if he could find the creature that was talking to him. That was when he realised there was no sound other than the wind, none of the animals were moving, no birds were singing, he could feel the shew that liked to sleep in his hair wasn’t moving. He actually picked it out of his hair to make sure it was still alive before setting it down on the ground. What was it? He heard it again and it felt just as powerful, but he heard something else in the distance. Screaming. People were screaming and it was coming from the direction of Alex’s kingdom.

He quickly pulled his boots on and grabbed his sword from the ground, clumsily fastening it to his belt as he stumbled over roots, not caring if he fell as long as he got to the kingdom walls quicker. He saw people running out of the gate, he spotted Alex’s parents, recognising them from the party. “Over here!” He waved his arms as he ran towards them, skidding to a halt in front of them. His heart sank, he didn’t know what was happening, but he did know that Alex wasn’t with his parents. He asked where he was and they told him that he stayed behind to guide people out. He instructed them to go into the forest so they were out of sight. Some of the people around them ran after them and quickly everyone was running into the forest, “Stay together!” He called after the people before pushing passed the rest and running through the gate. 

“Alex!” He knew it was pointless yelling, at first he began to run towards Alex’s home but remembered his parents had said he was helping people. Turning on his heal he ran across the market space, everything was on fire, he heard that voice again and could feel a strong wind but kept running. But he tripped over something and landed on his arm, he felt a snap and bit back the urge to scream in pain, he had broken his left arm. He looked to see what he had tripped over and froze. His tanned skin looked white, “u-uncle?” His right hand, shaking, touched his uncle’s face and he lent down, pressing his ear to his chest. He felt his own heart breaking. He heard nothing. He couldn’t stop it, he screamed, the pain he felt amplified it with his magic, any magical users within 200 miles would hear it in their heads and it echoed around the marketplace above the crackling of fire.

He realised something, his cousin wasn’t here. He went to get up to run and find her, he wasn’t going to loose her too, she was the only family he had left. But as he stood he felt the ground rumble under his feet and the market stall to his right shook violently. He turned and as he did he drew his sword with his right hand and pointed it at the creature, it was a black dragon. Why wasn’t it attacking him? The dragon was staring him down.

“I heard rumour of your kin being slaughtered, erased. But here you are.” It spoke. It was the voice he had heard in his head, but to anyone else it was no more than a roar.

“Why are you doing this?!” He screamed at the dragon as he wiped the tears from his face with his arm, smearing soot from his arm across his face. He thought he spoke in English, that was what he heard, but what came from his mouth was a long dead language.

The dragon took a step towards him and Walter raised his sword again, “it is my nature, just as it yours to be a prisoner to your forest. Your kin and mine go back millenniums, I do not like it, but I am bound to your command, dragon lord.” Walter didn’t know what he was talking about, but if what the dragon said was true then he would use it to his own advantage. “Then leave and never attack or harm humans or human settlements again.” The dragon angrily roared at him but did as he was told and left. Once Walter was certain it was leaving, his arm dropped to his side and the sword slipped from his grip. He wanted to find his cousin, but he felt so drained, he turned and took a step towards his uncle’s body but that was the last thing he remembered. Everything went black and he collapsed to the stone floor beside his uncle, unconscious.