#and BOY the rage she felt when she stabbed herself with the arrow to kill pucci

[parts-of-spop]

Street racer AU in which Catra is rivals with Adora when they were once partners and then she messes up bad... real bad Part 1/?

“Hey, Wildcat?”

She fights the instinctive urge to hiss at the nickname.

Let it slide. She’s your friend. Don’t be a dick. Be better.

“Yeah, Scorp?” She replies, tugging on her leather, fingerless driving gloves and flexing her hands. It’s comfortable, the sensation as familiar as wearing a second skin.

“Er… Adora’s here.”

That gets her attention but she tries not to let it show; tail lashing only once before she tells it to still and she feigns a casual air.

“And?” She drawls lazily and Scorpia clears her throat.

“She er… well gosh er… not to like… be rude here but erm… she looks downright awful.”

What?

Slowly, retaining her mask of indifference, she turns her head to her friend then follows her worried face towards where the princess herself is stood between tweedled dumb and tweedled dumber.

Holy fuck she looks like shit.

And she cut her hair?

It’s short now. Butch. A messy pixie cut around her ears. It kind of suits her.

What does not suit her is the dark circles around her eyes and the pink risen scar marring her left eyebrow down to her cheekbone.

She looks almost like a different person.

Catra feels herself squirm as she squints harder at the wound.

It appears Arrow and Glitter are somewhat chewing her out; lots of hand waving and Adora is fidgeting with the cuffs of her gloves, tired eyes flickering from one person to the other.

Then she mumbles something, shrugs dismissively and walks away without a backwards glance.

Glitter’s ensuing stomping and flailing in frustrated rage would be funny if Catra could take the time to appreciate it but it’s a bit hard to tear her eyes from Adora’s slumped form.

Thus, she isn’t looking when the sparkly ball of indignation comes stomping across the tarmac towards her, Arrow boy trailing after her helplessly.

“Hey, you!”

Her ear flickers towards the shout and she finally tears her eyes from her ex-best friend to raise a brow at the fuming girl in front of her.

She looks downright murderous.

Or about as murderous as someone who is 5’2 can look.

Her hands are clenched in trembling fists and Arrow boy looks like he desperately wants to grab her and pull her away but is far too scared to.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Sparkles?” Catra asks dryly and if possible, the girl gets redder.

“Look… I don’t know what your problem is with Adora… but if you ever land her in hospital again then I’m going to personally throttle you to death.”

… Wait… What?

“What the hell are you talking about?” Catra questions, confused and Sparkles huffs back at her.

“How stupid do you think we are? You don’t really think we didn’t know you’d been tailing Adora for weeks? Did you think you were really that slick and clever? I’d bet you knew her schedule better than even we did,” She spits venomously.

Catra’s tail flicks behind her.

“Gotta know the enemy, don’t you?” She says smoothly and Sparkles abruptly loses the heat of her anger and her hands go slack at her sides.

She exhales slowly.

Instead, her face twists into pure and total disgusted hatred.

“Y’know… Adora kept saying to us that you were her best friend… but that can’t be right. She has to have been mistaken,” She says coolly and Catra almost flinches, stomach twisting.

“Glimmer…” Arrow boy whispers pleadingly.

But she’s not stopping and she’s pinning Catra with a look so icy that it freezes her in place.

“Because you told Prime what Adora was doing every second of the day and because of you he knew exactly when she’d be alone and defenceless…” … Oh no. “He knew exactly where to send his goons…” No. “And let me tell you, Catra… hearing one of my best friends being beaten and stabbed to death over a phone line isn’t very fun.”

Catra’s never felt this sick in her entire life.

And she can do nothing as Glimmer steps close to her, eyes seething with pure loathing and she presses a finger into the centre of Catra’s chest.

“You almost got her killed… If not for that phone call… Adora would be dead because of you,” She spits venomously. She jabs the finger into Catra hard and she stumbles back a pace. “So stay the fuck away from her, Catra. We know what you did. Adora knows what you did… So stay behind the wheel and out our way because if you dare hurt Adora again, it’ll be the last mistake you’ll ever make…”

Then she steps backwards and narrows her eyes in a glare.

“… So… you’ve finally got nothing to say now? No snarky remark... Aren’t you happy?” She says grimly and Catra is mute, ears pinned flat against her head and heart thundering in her chest. “You finally did it, Catra… You’ve actually fucked up Adora… and she knows it…” Her face twists into a cold sneer. “I really really hope you’re proud of yourself…” She adds in a spite-filled hiss before turning and walking away, gently brushing past Bow and he stands, fumbling for a moment like he wants to apologise or say something.

But then he looks at Catra and his eyes turn steely, his brow knitting in a hard line.

He closes his mouth.

His jaw clenches.

And he leaves without a word.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Catra can’t hear it through the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears.

Fuck…

Adora nearly-…

Adora almost-…

Holy fuck… What’ve I done?

“Wildcat?” Scorpia murmurs tentatively.

It snaps her back to reality and in moments, she’s scrambling to the nearest bush and heaving into it, throwing up breakfast and bile through tears that aren’t all from the vomiting.

I nearly got Adora killed.

Another heave.

Adora could’ve died… scared and bleeding on the phone to her friend.

Fuck.

“Easy there. I gotcha,” Scorpia says soothingly, her claw against her back, rubbing in circles.

It takes a long time for the retching to stop and Catra suspects it’s more due to there being nothing left to throw up.

She spits out the lingering vile taste and quietly accepts the tissue Scorpia is offering her so she can at least make an attempt to clean herself up.

Her tears have painted her fur flat against her cheeks but she’s so miserable and sickened with herself that she doesn’t care like she usually would.

This is the single greatest fuck up of her entire fuck up of a life.

She tosses the tissue to the floor and Scorpia doesn’t comment on her littering like she ordinarily might.

Then she buries her face in her hands and the comforting smell of leather pulls her back to the ground steadily. Breathe deep. Nice and steady like Perfuma taught you.

Several minutes later, she lifts her head and exhales shakily.

“You okay, Wildcat?” Scorpia asks gently and she wants to cry again.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean for Adora to… to get hurt. I wouldn’t…” She trails off helplessly, closing her eyes with an unsteady sigh. “Never mind… Let’s just go race.”

“We could leave? Are you up to it?” Scorpia suggests and Catra huffs.

“No but we can’t leave. Weaver would have our asses if we did… Let’s get it over with.”

That’s easier said than done.

Because safe to say, Catra is well off her game.

And it starts before the race even begins…

Because by sheer god awful luck, her suped-up Camaro is directed to slide in beside Adora’s familiar white and gold Mustang and that allows Catra to get really up close and assess the damage.

Which really doesn’t help the guilt and shame she’s feeling because she looks even worse up close.

She looks like a corpse.

And their windows are wound down so they can have any last minute check-ins with their teammates and Catra’s ears are sharp enough that she can hear Adora’s breaths come uneven.

She’s in pain.

The clammy sweat on her face confirms it.

“Not so pretty these days, am I?”

Catra jumps at the sudden words and realises Adora is talking to her, her voice flat and empty.

She’s never sounded so blank.

She doesn’t turn her head from the road ahead, hands flexing around her steering wheel.

“I…” Catra chokes uselessly and then eyes that should be a warm blue flicker sideways to glance at her.

There’s nothing in that look… just cool lifelessness.

“... You’ve finally won, Catra. That’s all there is to it,” Adora states, in that same unfamiliar tone.

Then her hand lowers to her door and the window slides up between them.

Catra gapes helplessly at the side of her face but Adora ignores her, staring ahead and setting her jaw.

Catra slumps back into her own seat, eyes stinging with tears.

… This doesn’t feel like winning. This feels like losing the biggest game of all time.

[misterewrites]

The Fallen’s Redemption (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hey everyone! E here with the newest chapter! sorry it took a while to get out, been a wild month but it looks like everything's calming down so hopefully everything comes out more consistently. I hope you are all well and enjoying the story. Feel free to share, comment and all that jazz. I'm trying to promote myself more. Feels weird. haha that's it for me. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands, vaccinate if you can and take care of your love ones. Have a great week! E out!

If you like an easier way to read the story or even find out what the heck’s going on you can read the whole thing right here!

 --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/74835963

It was truly impressive how one moment could shift without warning. How the highest and lowest point in a singular instant in time could reverse and just keep going.

Archie wished for once in his life it went in his favor.

The mercenary knew Oliver and Abigail had succeeded when the room settled: crooked walls straightened, the hallways were no longer elongated stretches of void and he could hear Abigail’s voice from the other room.

The demon knew it too as it bruised skin failed to heal quickly, the smoke curled off its body longer and longer as Archie sunk holy arrow after holy arrow into its form. Its muscles seemed to deflect as Fen rained blow after brutal blow upon it. It was actually pretty disturbing if Archie was going to be honest but he knew better to give pity to a demon.

Archie loosen the arrow notched in his bow but kept a wary eye on their foe. It was time to leave. This demon was trapped in this prison for a reason and Archie was suspecting at the very least it was indestructible. Attempting to destroy it would be pointless and a weakened unkillable demon was still a threat.

Archie paused, unsure how to properly convey his message to the berserk Fen. He inched closer, practically stomping to make sure Fen didn’t whirl around in surprise and attack.

He tapped the paladin’s shoulder gently but Fen paid no him no mind. He cleared his throat but Fen just kept swinging away. Archie snarled, gripping Fen’s shoulder tightly and forcing him to turn.

“What!” Fen glared “Can’t you see I’m busy destroying this demon?”

‘You are serious?’ Archie let his annoyance slip onto his face. He was about pull the paladin away when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

The demon, even beaten and in pain, was deceptively quick. It’s elongated arm shot out, aiming for a weak point in the armor.

Archie did not like Fen. Archie thought Fen was unnecessarily combative and stand offish. Fen was a pain to work with and had never once played on a team.

But Archie couldn’t deny who he was.

That’s why he joined the King’s Guard when he lived on the surface.

He acted without thinking, pulling Fen away with as much strength as he could. The claws cut into Fen’s arm but drew little blood. Most of the blood the demon managed to spill came from Archie.

-----

It was impossible to tell who acted quicker: Abigail, Oliver or even Fen.

The trio as acted one for the first time in the short while they knew each other: Oliver said nothing, opting to gesture with a middle finger towards the demon. It let out a pained shriek, reeling backwards as golden musical notes surrounded its head and a dissonance screech thundering in its ears. Fen swung backward, cracking the demon in the jaw and sent it sprawling towards the floor. Abigail raced forward, diving for Archibald's falling form.

For a lanky guy, he was heavier than Abigail was expecting. She barely managed to stop him from hitting the floor with a splat but found herself pinned under him as a result.

“Oh boy Archie” Abigail groaned, struggling to lift the mercenary “You got some weight on you.”

Archie gave a weak smile, his gaze unfocused and distant.

Abigail turned to call for Oliver but the bard was already there, carefully eyeing the wound.

“It’s not too bad” Oliver murmured to himself. He rolled his sleeves up, staining one red with the blood dripping from his hand “But we got to act fast. He’s going to bleed out we don’t get him fixed up.”

“Can you?” Abagail asked, trying her best to keep her voice calm.

Oliver didn’t answer. Instead he held a hand over the open wound, closing his eyes while muttering something under his breath.

The golden musical notes appeared once more and hovered over Archibald. A calming melody began to play as Oliver’s magic took hold. Oliver winced as his own wound knitted itself back together: pinkish skin reforming and sealed where he stabbed himself with the dagger. Archibald’s started to but something went wrong: A malicious energy poured from the wound, hungry and vicious. Oliver’s magic wavered and shimmered out of exist but the wound remained.

Oliver’s face paled, his lips curling into a snarl.

“Oh hell no!”

Oliver rose his hand once again, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his magic reformed but once again the strange energy appeared and seemed to actively block the bard’s attempts to heal.

Oliver’s eyes grew manic “I am not letting someone else die! Curse or no curse.”

“Curse?” Abigail whispered as a chill ran down her spine “He’s been cursed.”

“A fucking demonic curse.” Oliver explained, frantically digging through his pack “Obviously my magic isn’t enough to break it.”

Abigail nodded numbly “We need holy magic.”

“Which we don’t have.” Oliver responded grimly “You have any thread?”

“Thread?”

“I’m going to try to stitch him up. I’m hoping the curse is only focused on magical cures.”

“R-right.” Abigail’s hand moved on their own, reaching for her pack while she desperately tried to remember where she kept the thread. It wasn’t the easiest thing with one hand but the other was wrapped tightly around Archie’s body. Definitely not the smartest choice but she refused to let go of him.

Abigail’s hand shook as the nerves started to eat at her.

“Talk to me farm girl.” Oliver sounded far off “You need to stay focus.

She took a calming breath “Right. Right. Calm. Are you sure threads would work?”

“No” Oliver admitted “But I’m hoping they last long enough for us to get him to the capital. He needs a real cleric or paladin” he glared openly Fen’s back as the paladin continued his cruel attack on the demon “and we’re going to need every second. Dragging him out the house, up the slope and down the tunnel is going to be a challenge but we have to try.”

The air grew thick with tension, the only sounds were Abigail’s panicked search and thuds of Fen’s assault

“Die demon die!” Fen growled with a righteous fever “I will send you back from whence your came!”

Crunch, squish, crunch, squish, crunch. The repetitive noise of Fen’s wasted efforts.

Oliver tried to keep calm. Oliver tried to focus on the task hand. Oliver wanted nothing more than silence.

Oliver always had a poor control over his mouth.

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP!?”

Abigail stood, shocked at the rage and fury that filled Oliver’s shout.

Fen caught it too. He paused, turning away from his prey and eyed Oliver’s distastefully.

“You dare…?” Fen began, angrily stomping closer to the pair.

“You fucking right I dare!” Oliver shot to his feet, hands clenched to fists “You are joke and worse, not even a funny one. Just a pathetic washed out paladin who doesn’t even realize why his God abandoned him!”

Fen held Oliver’s lute in a deathly grip “I am warning you bard if you push me further….”

“You’ll what?” Oliver roared. He closed the distance and even Fen couldn’t help but take a step back “You’ll attack me? A fellow human? Not very holy of you.”

“I….”

“What’s the point of killing monsters...” Oliver screamed, gesturing to the bleeding Archibald and fearful Abigail “...if there’s no one left to save when you’re done! What’s the point of punishing the wicked if good people have to die for it?”

Fen felt sick as realization washed over him. Young Archibald had gotten severely injured but he been so caught up in his fury he hadn’t realized what occurred.

“I….” Fen began weakly but Oliver wasn’t finished.

“Don’t.” Oliver spoke with an aura of finality “You made your choice. You chose your anger over your duty. If you regret the outcome, you should’ve thought about the choice more carefully. Abigail, thread.”

Abigail nodded and began searching for the elusive thread. Oliver turned away from the stunned paladin and pulled out a fine needle.

“Come on solider boy.” He spoke with a firm tone “You’re not dying on me. If you want to get paid, you’ll keep your breathing steady.”

Fen couldn’t hear what the others were saying. The guilt started to build in the pit of his stomach as his arms grew weak.

How could he fall so far? How could he forget his oath to the Solius, the god who saved his life and gave it meaning? How could he allow his anger, his bitterness poison his intention?

This god hadn’t abandoned him, he had abandoned his god.

He still remembered the quiet pride he shone with when he was anointed a paladin. A nobody from a town that no longer existed finally someone. A higher purpose.

The path to redemption is made by self sacrifice.

He thought it meant punishing the wicked creatures and enemies of Solius, giving his life to endless battle.

He closed his eyes in shame, unable to deny the truth of his failure any longer.

Fen’s eyes flinched as a light seemed to shine from nowhere. He opened his eyes expecting to find the irritating bard using his magic to annoy him further.

Instead he found a beautiful soft light emitting from his hands: an open palm and the weaponized lute glowed with an unearthly beauty.

He glanced towards the other but if they had seen the light, they made no indication of it. He could see the desperation in their actions: Abigail unspooling as much thread she could muster while Oliver threaded the needle in preparation for some makeshift surgery.

Fen looked at his hands once again and realized what Solius hadn’t left him. Not really. He always had been with the paladin but he was too blinded by resentment to notice. Now Solius was silently offering him the choice free of judgment.

What path will you choose: of peace or of war?

Fen was a warrior through and through. He was no healer, having never trained in such arts. He knew the path he chose when he swore himself to the god of redemption. A righteous blade on the mortal plane.

“Hey Archie” Abigail croaked, her voice hoarse with fear “It’ll be okay. Oliver’s just gonna shove a needle into your body.”

Archibald rolled his eyes sarcastically as if saying ‘oh fun’

Oliver pulled the thread to ensure it wouldn’t come loose “Sorry I don’t have medicine or anything to numb the pain or even proper experience but hey, what better way to learn new skills huh?”

Archibald shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ll do my best.” Oliver promised with a surprising amount of sincerity “Hopefully it will be enough.”

“Bard.”

Oliver let out a frustrated groan “Seriously?! Now? Can’t you see that I’m about to perform…”

“Allow me.”

Oliver turned to Fen, surprised to see his lute placed carefully on the floor and the paladin’s hands open in peaceful surrender.

“Can you do it?”

“I believe so.”

Oliver moved, allowing Fen room to work. Fen took a deep breath and gently placed his hands onto the open wound. Archibald flinched but stayed as still as he could manage.

The malicious curse crept forth.

“Solius, lend me your power to save this life. It is not yet time.”

Abigail let out a gasp as a gentle light began to cover Fen’s hands. The curse stretched and thinned under the glow of holy magic, shrinking and shrinking before vanishing completely. Archibald relaxed as his wound began to close, skin stitching itself back together until no trace of the injury remained.

Fen let out a tired sigh “The path to redemption is made through self sacrifice.”

“Don’t start.” Oliver warned “Help me lift him up.”

Oliver spared a quick glance for the demon but it wisely chosen to retreat deeper into the house rather purse a one sided fight. Better live with a pain that would heal slowly than face the group’s wrath.

“I got him” Abigail spoke up quickly “I can do it.”

“Well you heard the lady.”

-----

“There’s no sign of your beasts bard.”

“Not entirely true.” Oliver replied. He took note of the gnashed, clawed marks left upon the exterior of the house when they left.

Aside from the various scratch marks left all over the floor and outside of the walls, there was no sign of the mysterious creatures that chased them down the tunnel.

“That’s a lucky break” Oliver breathed in relief.

Archibald flipped off Oliver.

“Relatively.” Oliver corrected “How you feeling solider boy?”

Archibald shot him a glance that screamed ‘you seriously asking me that?’

“Force of habit. Sorry. Not sorry.”

The group stood at the mouth of the tunnel. With Fen’s help, they managed to get Archibald to the top with little trouble.

Abigail slowly approached the paladin “What will you do now?”

Fen paused, taking a moment to answer.

“I am not sure.” he admitted truthfully “As much as I despise your bard, he has given me much to think about.”

“I have that effect on people.” Oliver beamed with pride.

Abigail jabbed her elbow into his side.

“Rude.”

Fen gave a light chuckle “Thank you bard. I still hate you though.”

Oliver gave a noncommittal shrugged “I hate you too but you don’t have to like someone to learn something from them.”

“I am not giving you that one.”

“Yeah that tracks.”

Fen turned to Archibald “Will you be alright? I can accompany you to Haven’s Nest if you wish.”

Archibald waved him off and gestured to Abigail with a flexing motion.

“Thanks!” Abigail smiled brightly.

Fen grinned “I understand and I apologize for my lack of….everything. I will work on that.”

Archibald nodded in understanding.

“Goodbye” Fen turned towards the path to West End “Abigail, Archibald take care. Bard I hope I never see you again.”

“Same here paladork!”

-----

Abigail understood why Oliver chose the unexplored tunnel when they had been chased by the strange creatures: With Abigail carrying Archibald, it had taken the group an hour to reach the city gate. At full sprint it would’ve taken at least 20 minutes to reach but there was no way the group could’ve ran that length without the risk of tripping.

The city gate wasn’t too much different than the walls that surrounded Abigail’s hometown: Instead towering walls designed to be too tall to climb, it was a thick metal door built in the path of the tunnel mouth. There were a pair of guards stationed on their side of the wall, lazy and distracted.

“What happened to him?” one of the guards gestured to Archibald.

“A bad time. Gate closed?”

The other guard shook his head “Nah. We heard a commotion down the tunnel so we decided to shut it in case.”

Oliver nodded “Good call. Let us in?”

“Oi, I ask the questions. What’s your business in the capital?”

Abigail began to open her mouth but Oliver cut her off “Bard competition. They’re my roadies.”

“What’s a roadie?” One guard asked dumbly.

“My help. I’m a pretty big deal.”

The guards sneered “Sure big deal. Sing us something.”

Oliver looked at his fingernails “You can hear me sing at the competition. I don’t do free shows.”

“Fucking bards” the guard murmured under his breath as he knocked on the door with a booming thud.

Abigail could the creaking and groaning of clogs and springs and chains moving in unison. The door began to lift inch by inch. Abigail couldn’t help but lean forward, hoping to soak in her first experience at an underground city. However, instead of whatever she had been expecting, she found herself staring at a large circular cavern.

There were a few people about deep in conversion as well a handful of guards scattered around. Merchants calling in different tongues hoping to make a sale for their wares. On the far end was an identical metal door that no doubt led to the actual city. To either side the cavern walls that were covered with nonsensical graffiti: Phrases in various languages, different images in varying art styles.

“Processing?” Abigail asked with a tone of certainty.

“Yep. It’ll be a few minutes.” Oliver answered while he looked about.

Abigail shifted Archibald so he could be more comfortable “Did you want to sit?”

Archibald shook his head.

“Alright but if you get tired let me know.”

A thumbs up in response.

“Oliver….” Abigail whirled around only to find the bard scribbling some strange symbol among the mess of whatever what was on the wall “OLIVER!”

Oliver paid no mind to her, opting to finish whatever he was doing and making his way back to the other two.

Abigail rose an eyebrow “What was that about?”

“I like doodling. I get bored easily.”

“I was talking to Archie for like a second.”

“Bored.” Oliver repeated unhelpfully “Besides they magically clean the walls every night. Come on let’s get in line.”

True to Oliver’s word, it hadn’t taken long to get through the processing: The same questions asked by the guards in front, a quick magical scan from the cleric to ensure nothing demonic was entering, a search to see if anyone was carrying anything illegal. A few minutes had passed and the trio was waved through.

Archibald regained enough strength to walk on his own albeit slowly. The group was among a handful other people eagerly waiting for the gate to open when a guard had given them some strange item. It looked like two thin marshmallows.

“What is this about?” Abigail asked only to find Oliver and Archibald place the strange item into their ears. Having no choice, Abigail followed suit.

The gate slowly opened, pulling to the side instead upwards.

Abigail leaned forward, catching her first glimpse of Haven’s Nest.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Exit Music (Favored Ones, Part 29.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “Endure and survive.” - Ellie Williams

Part summary: It all crumbled to shit... As could be predicted.

A/N: x

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger

Word count: 5.6 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @gabymiller

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day three - midnight:

Something was off about the situation playing out in the other room. Something wasn't right. Especially when you realized, that it was someone shooting from a fucking gun that had woken you up. This time, Joel didn't try to get you off himself as he realized that you've pulled out the stunt of covering his mouth yet again. His palms just circled around your forearms so you'd be aware of him being awake as you were looking to the main entrance hall through a small crack in the door.

First, the situation wasn't making any sense. There was some boy with a bow standing off the scenery and someone was laying on the ground. But the kid itself had risen a red flag in your eyes. Slowly, you got off Joel, moving around the small room which became your bedroom over the last two days. - "Your gun, where is it?" - You hissed to Joel's ear when you heard her. You didn't remember her voice at all, but as soon as you heard it again, you realized who is on the other side of the door. The need to find Joel's gun suddenly became obsessive.

Abby didn't need to know about you, she didn't need to show you her face or to walk to you - you started to shake solely after hearing her talking in the other room. Your breath started hitching as you searched through the room silently when Joel's palm stopped you. - "I'll go there and you'll stay here, yeah?" - The man asked, but when he moved to the door, you kneeled in front of him, opening him your palm. - "Just stick your nose out there and you have a bullet right between your eyes. Our best chance is to take the kid as a hostage." - "And are you afraid of shootin' the kid dead?" - Joel whispered back, rioting against your decision even if he knew that you're right. As soon as Abby sees the man and realizes who is she looking at, she'll shoot him down.

"I just need to scare her into a tight corner, I won't be killing the kid. But give me that damn fucking gun, Joel." - It almost seemed that you'll be arguing over some dumb bullshit, but suddenly, you felt the heft and coldness of a revolver on your palm. - "Stay here. And if you will come out, just make sure that you'll stick right behind me, okay?" - You asked, palming his jaw to take one last good look at your man before leaning in, kissing him tenderly. With one quick gaze, you checked if the gun is loaded before trying to figure out how you're about to pull this out.

It happened quickly. It needed to be quick - you couldn't stop if you didn't want to end up dead. When Tommy, who was the man laying down, had seen you sneaking behind that Scar boy, he almost rolled his eyes. This situation was already enough of a mess with freaking out Abby and revenge-thirsting Ellie who saw Abby for the first time... Let alone the shot dumb boy laying on the ground. This could either go as you planned or it could end up in a bloody mess with gallons of blood spilled over the floor. Any of you were thirsting for revenge anymore earlier that evening... But there you all were, huh?

Thanks to the tension in the room, which made everyone stuck their gazes in Abby's and Ellie's direction, the kid didn't notice that you were just behind him. And when he did, your chest was already glued to his back as you made sure that he won't pull any arrow out of the quiver, your elbow was circled around the boy's neck firmly as you pulled the cold muzzle to the boy's temple. Abby registered the scared squealing coming from Lev's direction - but when she turned around, you already had the kid as your hostage, which made her eyes widen and her face became color-less as she watched you. Until that point, she had the upper hand - Tommy Miller was laying down at her legs, one of you was dead and she had a ginger girl at the gunpoint. Somehow, she was talking shit about being connected to the Fireflies as well, more so is the reason why the vaccine didn't exist in the first place.

Abby didn't know who the girl was or if she was just delusional, but just for the sake of her good mindset, she could shoot the redhead dead too. These people were in Seattle with you, proven by Tommy himself laying on the ground. You were there somewhere as well, lurking in the shadows, waiting to be caught by Abby herself. And on top of that, you were just begging to be killed as a swine. Yet the upper hand Abby and Lev established by the sudden attack was seemingly gone as you manifested out of the thin air - a small room on the side of the hall giving out your previous location.

"Throw the gun away. Now." - Damn, you weren't sure by what you were doing at all. You just hoped that this whole suicide mission will play out somehow. The boy was Abby's partner in one way or another, but what if she tells you to kill the kid? Or what if she shoots him herself? What were you planning on doing now?

It seemed to made Abby panic a bit. She was in a bad position at the moment - she didn't know how many of you are in the theatre, who else has guns. If she would turn to you, the ginger would have Abby right on gunpoint. But she couldn't leave Lev alone in this situation. So what she did was that Abby turned her face to you, but still aimed in Ellie's direction, ready to shoot as soon as the girl peaks out from behind the bar. When there was a pretty prolonged silence until your thumb defused the revolver. - "And you, the bow. Come on, let's go." - Your lips whispered to the boy's ear. The kid was shaking and most probably had tears in his eyes. Who wouldn't feel uncomfortable in this situation? The kid had a barrel to his head. One wrong move and he would be dead.

"How fucking dumb you have to be?" - Abby spoke out to you, walking backward. It was a logic move - she was getting both you and Ellie into her frame. - "How can someone have such big balls? What did you think when you came back, huh?" - Abby talked to you while still getting to a safer position. Lev quickly threw the bow on the ground and pushed his palms high enough for you to see them. - "Why did you come back?"

"I wanted to finish the business between you and me, Abby. Throw the fucking gun on the floor or the kid's ass is grass." - This was all you deliberately wanted to tell Abigail, who was now pushing her full attention to you since Ellie had the woman in a dead angle now. - "What business are you talking about? You're right. I should kill you for good, just pushing the knife into your fucking face." - It didn't matter that she was on the other side of the hall - when she rose her palms and aimed at you, it still felt as if she pushed the gun directly to your face.

"Don't worry, Lev, she ain't killing you. The gun isn't even loaded, is it?" - With this winning argument had put a smug smile on Abby's face. The woman runs her tongue on her lips, looking as psychically imbalanced as you were. You were both fucked up from the inside - whether it was the last three days, the knowledge about you and your friends going on a killing spree with her friends or the sole fact that you murdered Owen like an animal, she was mentally off. Truth be told, you couldn't know what happened to Abby in the last few days - but honestly, you couldn't care less. - "Come on, don't play a big girl while holding someone hostage. Let's finish this like adults." - Abby rose her eyebrows, clearly offering you a fistfight.

Which would be a suicidal idea if someone like you would go against someone like Abigail. She was huge in the best meaning of the word. She was hard to miss and if you'd give her an upper hand by handling yourself to a physical fight, you'd be beaten to death. You couldn't let the kid go under any circumstances. - "Don't' Y/N, she's fucking with you!" - Ellie cried out as if she knew about something you didn't. And she did know something - Abby had a knife hidden in her boot, which was almost invisible. Abby would stab you as soon as she'd get the chance. There was only one thing you could do - suddenly, you rose your palm to the ceiling, shooting. Which made Abby realize how serious the situation was. The gun was loaded.

Sure, you looked smart - but you looked too scared to be a murderer or someone like that. And you hardly looked like someone who was mentally fucked as Mel told Abby you were. Yet as soon as you showed the woman that the revolver was, indeed, loaded. Abby watched Lev sobbing with your elbow under his neck, not choking him just yet. The boy had better usage alive. - "Stop fucking around." - Now, there was a glimpse of an unstable psyche. For the first time, Abby could see something hidden under the mask of a normal human being. - "One bad word, one bad move and this kid's brain will paint the walls, are we clear?" - Again, you defused the gun, pushing it to the boy's temple so aggressively that his head has tilted to the side.

You almost freaked out when you felt someone moving behind you - soon, you heard the kid's bow being broken to small sticks. The person behind you was Joel, having another gun in his palm. This gun was yours - but this one was, sure as hell, empty. At that moment, Abby stuck his gaze at Joel standing there, blood and flesh. Tommy took the chance he got and crawled behind the bar to sit beside Ellie, hiding from Abby's sight. The girl just pointed the gun at you, realizing who is finally standing in front of her - knowing she probably won't ever get to the person to kill them, since her target was hiding behind someone she cared about dearly.

It was strange to watch all the emotions going through Abby's face as she tried to get a hold on the feeling and thoughts flying over her confused head. There was everything - anger, hatred, fear, dullness and there were even tears in her eyes for a minute. - "Let it go. Otherwise, you'll both end up dead. Come on." - There was a sense of sincerity in your voice. It could be known that you really didn't even want to do this. Which was somehow insanely funny in the situation you were at. One again, you pushed the gun to Lev's head, tightening your elbow under his neck.

Normally, if Lev was just a Scar, he would barely flinch under this pressure. If you'd kill him, you'd kill him. God would welcome him in the endless beautiful gardens up above. But now, he wasn't a Seraphite anymore - he was Abby and Mel's friend and he was scared to die. He was sinful, so he wouldn't get to see God's endless land. And on top of that... He was still just a kid.

Just like you were still a normal girl somewhere down inside. If Abby wouldn't show up in the theatre, you'd leave Seattle, hoping that you'll never meet her again. But she surprised you on your own grounds. It didn't matter how did she find you, but she was there, dangerous as ever. The only thing that saved everyone's lives was your numbers against their numbers. There was more of you and less of them. And because of this, you managed to get the upper hand. - "This kid doesn't deserve any of this. Throw the fucking gun down, surrender and I'll let him go." - You begged again, this time having tears in your eyes as well. You weren't killing after what you did to Owen, no, not anymore. It almost looked as if Abby is pushing you to shoot Lev, her eyes constantly jumping to Joel standing behind you. But then, Lev whispered her name, making her realize what was on the line. Slowly, she took a deep breath before she threw the gun on the ground. At that sound, Ellie crawled out of her hiding, slowly raising up to point her barrel at Abby once again.

You put the gun down too, but you didn't let the boy go. No. You needed something which made you sure Abby won't manage to escape just like that. - "We'll lock him in the radio room, okay? Don't... Just... Don't hurt this kid." - Slowly, you tied up Lev's palms behind his back and when you were sure he won't wiggle out, you gave him to Tommy. Then, there was time to do the same with Abby. She would give you a headbutt if she didn't see the man leading Lev away and if there weren't two guns pointed at her. - "You promised me to let him go. He has no business in this." - Abby muttered out and hissed when you purposely tied the rope too tight.

"That kid needs something to eat and to sleep a little. I promise we won't harm him." - You answered back, quite literally tugging the woman to stand on her feet so you could lead her upstairs. - "But the same doesn't go for me, huh?" - Abigail snickered with irony, realizing that she, indeed, might not get out of the theatre alive. But suddenly, she realized that Mel's waiting on the staircase outside of the theatre. - "We have... A friend waiting for us outside. Can you at least let her in? She's pregnant." - The woman begged when you finally lead into a small, darkroom. You wanted to lock her out there and let her sit there for one to two hours so she'd get a bit paranoid at least.

"Mel's here with you?" - Joel asked back, making Abby still aware of his presence. And when he did so, all Abby did in response was that she spat at his shoe, staying completely silent. - "I'll go to find her." - The man agreed when you were tying Abby to one of the heating, making sure she won't able to escape.

"Listen... You shouldn't come back." - The woman said just before you closed the door behind you. For a moment, you were put off with this statement - but then you looked at her, sighing. - "Wish I could say the same." - And with a nod, you locked the door, pushing the key to your back pocket. Inside the building, Abby was now public enemy number one. Everyone had a reason to murder her in the darkroom, which wasn't a thing you wanted to do - not until you hear her reasoning behind everything that happened. In the pressure of the whole situation, you didn't realize that the man laying on the ground with his head fucked up to halves was Jesse.

But when the information clicked, you just stopped and watched the view - until the ground under you slipped as you sat down on your ass. What the fuck happened there when you were sleeping? Clearly, if this thing would go off while you'd be still asleep, there would be more dead - but this didn't seem right. Through the blood rushing in your head, it was hard to hear Dina scream and cry out in pain as her girlfriend tried to push her away.

But as you stopped under the stairs, you found Ellie and Dina there - the redhead was holding her girlfriend in her arms, holding her in one place. Dina sure as hell was in a hysteric state. And sadly, you couldn't do anything for the poor boy anymore. So for the next five minutes, you were stuck on the view as you thought about your memories you got with Jesse. And no matter how hard you wished you'd cry, there wasn't a single tear in your eyes. It could be expected that one of you... Dies. It was a miracle that you almost made his home in full numbers. This was just an eye for an eye - all of you were just begging for something like that to happen.

It was when Joel put his palms around your shoulders that you woke up from the trance again. - "I found Mel outside, locked her inside these cabinets on the second floor. Let's make the kid and her some food, huh?" - His palm patted your shoulder, making you nod and stand up. Slowly, you were walking to the direction of the main hall, when Dina's palm circled around yours, almost tugging you down on the ground. - "We have to kill her. We have to kill that fucking slut. For Jesse." - The black-haired girl whispered frantically. Yet as soon as Ellie rose her eyes to you, she could feel that not even you were sure what you were about to do with Mel, Lev, or Abby. Currently, you were in charge at the moment, since you had the key from your main prisoner. That wasn't about to last for too long.

First, you wanted to talk to Abby. To hear what was even going on in Baldwin. Why were they there, what happened, what it was meant to be - you wanted to hear all of it and you more likely needed to hear it. If she'd be willing to speak to you, that was another question. But... You didn't want to have anything connecting you to killing her. Earlier, you told Tommy that you've down enough in Seattle and that you've already killed enough people in there - and you meant that. All you wanted was some resolution to everything. So you could put it to rest.

Which only Abby could give you - Joel wouldn't make things better no matter how hard would he try, neither would Ellie, Dina, or Tommy. It had to be her. On the other hand... You knew that sooner or later, Tommy and Joel get to Abby. And from that point, you weren't sure if Abby makes it through the hell and back. And Ellie could tell that just from the one look you gave Dina. Maybe there was someone to kill her, but it wasn't you.

The following hour, you searched for things that you'll cook to Mel and Lev to warm them up. These two looked terrible - the boy was underweighted, pale, tired, and barely standing on his feet at that point. Most probably, he would fight back if he had some strength. But this time, he could barely flinch under your elbow. And... Well... You knew you promised her that you'd kill her... But it wasn't really her fault she was there. Abby dragged her down the same warpath and Mel just managed to...Be there. At least from your point of view.

After another hour, the food was cooking and you all made sure to clean the blood after Jesse, covering his whole body in a piece of sheet, laying him to the side. You had to bury him somewhere, it was your friend in the end. And he did deserve better. After a small while of silence, you finally told yourself that it's time to leave. Two hours in a small room, in complete silence and darkness, that would mess with everyone's head. Abby wasn't petrified when you unlocked the door with a small candle in your palm, but she freaked out a bit. Slowly and quietly, you sat on the other side of the room, letting the door closed.

There was a moment when you just sat in front of her with your head leaned into the wall behind, watching her just as she watched you back. What was there to say? Nothing and everything.

"This is funny." - Your whisper filled the room as you chuckled, disgusted by the situation you were both in. - "After three days of turning this whole city upside down for you, you suddenly show up with some random kid, murdering my friend. And we were just about to leave." - "Very funny." - Abby rolled her eyes, trying to find a more comfortable position - which was quite impossible because of her palms tied behind her back.

"I should've killed you. And I mean it. But I was stupid and I panicked... And here we are." - "Don't worry, the results would be the same. They'd be looking for you until they'd find you and hunt you down like an animal." - "You hunted every member of my fucking family like an animal. Fuck you." - Abby spat back, not literally, but her expression was telling her everything she didn't say out loud.

"Don't you get it, you maniac? This was all a cycle. Or an eye for an eye if you want." - "But I hadn't started it." - "In your mind, you didn't, Abby, but in reality... Well..." - You showed her a funny expression, hissing with your eyebrows risen up. - "No, I hadn't started it." - She told you with confidence. This argument just made you snicker, shaking your head unbelievably.

"Listen, I don't wanna be the one who'll break it down to you, but I know you were after Joel. And I don't know what happened between you two, but that man had fucked over so many people that he wouldn't remember who the fuck you were." - Your thumb pointed behind your back. - "Oh, he knows who I am." - The fucking smug grin on her face was almost disgusting. - "Oh, does he? Really?" - You asked back with a lot of sarcasm in your voice.

"Jerry Anderson was my dad. And because I know this fucker barely remembers his face, I'm gonna tell you who my daddy was. They ever told you about the Salt Lake thing? Do you even know who these people are?" - Abby whispered, trying to get under your skin - just like Owen tried to just before you smashed his fucking head with an iron pipe.

"Abby, no offense, but I was a Firefly in Salt Lake and I haven't heard of a man named... Fuck." - Suddenly, you stopped and took in a deep breath. Owen and neither his other friends hadn't known you personally. There were hundreds of people that went through this specific Firefly camp. But when you heard this name, it matched with a man you only heard of. Marlene mentioned him sometimes. Usually, this man was a part of her 'the worlds gets better when we have the vaccine' lectures - and this man was the one who was in charge of developing it. - "Don't tell me you're the one who believed that this fuckery might've actually worked? Abby, I have the feeling that you might not be a complete moron..." - You started to talk thinking she was mora after the vaccine thing than after the family matters, but Abby kicked your ankle to make you realize she's not after some fucking vaccine.

"Your man killed my dad. That was when this... Cycle or whatever you called it, had begun." - "You know..." - Suddenly, you sighed and looked back at her. - "Marlene gave the order to execute both my parents. It was rumored that they both sneaked out and got a bit... But I don't think that's the case. Yet even if she gave the order, I hadn't go back and killed her. I just ran away." - Your shoulders tense up for a second. Abby licked her lips, looking away from you for a second. - "I wish I was as good at letting go, then." - "But I hadn't let go, I never did. I just learned how to move on... But... Owen was trying to get under my skin. Your Owen, just to be clear, and he... He brought up the Fireflies, which naturally reminded of what Marlene wanted to do to me and what did she do to my parents and... I snapped. I didn't mean to... But I snapped." - Your voice spoke out silently as you had on one of the emotionless expressions. You were hugging your knees with your forearms and you were weirdly pressed into the wall.

"You... Why... Why the fuck are you telling me you killed him? Why are you so fucking stupid?" - The bigger woman huffed. - "Because I feel sorry for it, okay? I didn't mean to..." - "But you already fucking did. And now you're going to kill me with your friends here. At least I get the chance to spit Miller in the face for once." - Abby grinned, looking away from you. That was right. Tommy was most likely ending her life that night. You knew what you wanted to know, so you slow picked yourself up from the ground, sighing heavily. - "I won't ever forgive you. Never."

"It's just... This is what you deserve... I think. You've hurt me, we're only hurting you back." - With that, you left the room. And you walked directly to Tommy and Joel, putting the key in their palms. - "Be quick, okay? I just want to get out of this place the quickest we can." - You mumbled, taking the small tray with the food you've prepared for Lev, leaving to the radio room where the boy was tied up.

When you entered the unlocked door, he stopped everything he was doing at the moment, raising his eyes to you. He was cutting himself free and he was almost finished - but it sure as hell still wasn't enough as you came around was quicker than he anticipated. - "Are you done there or...?" - You asked, closing the door behind you. Slowly, you put the tray next to the boy, looking him in the eyes. He sure as hell got punched by Tommy, whether he was aggressive or something, Tommy had put him out for a while. But now, the kid was just staring at you while you kneeled next to him, taking your knife out.

"Listen. When I untie you, will you eat something?" - You asked silently, trying to connect to the kid somehow. He mustve been starving for the last couple of days. Poor kid. - "No. You've... You've poisoned it. You're going to kill me. Don't... Don't touch me." - Lev muttered out with fear. Even the fear was on the spot since it was you, who was almost choking him back there. - "I had barely the time to find you something to eat, let alone poison it. I have another deal, then. If I' untie you, you won't try to stab me or anything, okay? I've seen your people in action." - This deal was very interesting for Lev. He could take you out with one of his arrows, but clearly, you had no intention of harming him. Why were you so nice to him when you and Abby almost killed each other just an hour ago? So, slowly, the boy nodded. - "Scoop here, come on." - You mumbled and waited as the boy did so. He got quite far on his escape route and you didn't want to hurt him.

Soon, he felt both his wrists getting free - and as soon as he was sure that he's not tied to the table, he scooped onto the other side of the room. And you mirrored his actions - you walked to the other side of the room and sat down, leaning your back into one of these cabinets. Lev's eyes were scanning the door, he surely was thinking about escaping. - "My friends will kill you as soon as you sneak out - all it takes is a scream and someone will put a bullet to your head. Don't be stupid. Sit down, eat something... Let's talk, okay?" - Slowly, you showed him both your hands, proving that you had nothing on yourself. And proving you didn't want to hurt him. And after a moment, Lev seemingly relaxed and took the bowl of hot canned beans.

"So, what is your story?" - You asked after a moment, watching the kid gulping the hot food right in front of your eyes. Lev sure as hell looked as if he doesn't know what you're talking about, so you decided to specify. - "Everyone has some story, come on. You're a... Scar. I've met your people before - are you and Abby with them?" - At that question, Lev almost spat what he had inside his mouth before his head started to shake furiously.

"I... I was a Scar. Not anymore. Long story." - Lev said quietly, not quite ready to open up. His eyes watched as you offered him your palm, smiling at him a bit. - "My name is Y/N. I just realized that I haven't told you yet. And we have enough time for you to tell me that story, young man." - Something in your eyes was telling Lev that you're a trustworthy one, that you really mean him no harm. Even though what he had heard about you from Mel, you weren't giving him any goosebumps.

"How do you know Abby?" - Lev whispered instead of answering your question, taking you off the rails with that question. Quickly, you licked your lips as you thought of the best answer, deciding not to tell the boy about who Abby was. - "She just did some things to me and... She wants to hurt someone I love." - "What kind of things?" - Lev furrowed. With that, you sighed and stood up. When the boy turned away, you pulled your pants down enough to show him the nasty scar you had left after Abby - and you also showed him how horrendous were your nails. The boy's eye widened as he tried to process the information. - "You will kill her, won't you?" - He whispered and pushed the bowl away, catching his head in his palms.

"I don't have anyone but Abby. The wolfs killed everyone and even if they were alive, I'm not welcomed anymore." - At that moment, Lev was slowly descending to a panic attack. - "And I have Mel with me... If Abby will die, we all will die. You can't do that." - The boy sobbed, looking you in the eyes with pure pain. At that moment, you were very ashamed - you barely looked into his eyes, you couldn't tell anything. There was nothing to say.

"I had run away from home with my sister, Yara. Because I am... I was a girl. But I don't feel like one, I didn't like it, I didn't like how they were making me be one. But I haven't told anyone of my... Of those who were my people, so they had decided to let one of the elders marry me without asking me. As is normal in my home. I couldn't do that, Y/N. I wasn't who they wanted me to be. And I shaved my head... They almost hung me and sliced my throat, you know? And just when we thought we won't make it, we met Abby and we saved her from them. She joined us, gave us food, found us some safe space and... It can't end like this. Please. I beg you. Don't kill her." - Lev crawled to you on the floor, his wide eyes looking into yours as he shakily placed his palm on yours.

The things he had told you were hard to digest because of how young the boy was. They wanted to hang him because of showing who he truly was? What kind of sick fucks the Scars were? Yet you didn't say anything. You just caught his palm in yours and looked him in the eyes with tears. At that moment, Abby's scream filled the whole theatre, meaning that Tommy and Joel had started their work. This was wrong. This was... Bad. Why did she show up just when you wanted to let all of this go? You bit your lower lip with force, holding Lev's palm even tighter.

"You can't do this, please, let her go. I... I swear you won't ever see her again. She won't hurt any of you as long as she'll be with me and Mel." - The boy was saying this again and again as the chaos withing you started to brew. You were ready to move on. Abby had fucked you up - but you did her way worse. On top of that, Tommy was already playing with her, so even he has gotten a personal redemption of sorts. Honestly, you didn't want to continue with any of this. It was too much. Too much already. The things you've done - these were about to haunt you until the rest of your days. And knowing you sent a pregnant woman and a kid to their doom, that was too much shit for you. - "Fuck..." - You whispered and leaned your forehead into the top of Lev's palm as if the boy was the one who had to redeem you and forgive you.

Lev shut up when you closed your eyes as you started to shake, feeling the pressure under which you were at the moment. No. You needed to be the better ones. You had to let them walk away. You've all already proved your point. Slowly, you picked yourself from the ground, walking to the door. - "You wait here, okay? I need to fetch you something. I won't let her die, not its fucking time, not this shit again." - You held the boy's shoulders, taking in a deep breath before you basically ran from the room, knowing that you don't have much time on your hands anymore.

As you walked to get your bow, you knew that you're about to argue with both Joel and Tommy. You might threaten them, you might get into a physical fight. Maybe, you'll have to point a gun at one of them. But you didn't want anyone dying anymore. Because Owen's fucked up brain was more than enough to haunt you in your dreams.

[centuryofdean]

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 17

Author Note:: So sorry for the delayed update. I have been going through some issues from work, to my relationship, to my mode of transportation--I haven’t even had the urge to read fanfiction let alone write it. Things are starting to smooth out now so hopefully we can get this story finished!

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. NSFW.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature.

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Kili

Most of the conversation that was transpiring around us blurred with my breathing. That and most of it was muffled due to the large amount of fish that was pilled around me. A deep shiver started from my bones and out to the outer layer of my skin. Another deep stabbing pain radiated from my thigh were the orcs arrow pierced it just mere hours ago.

How terribly foolish it was of Laurel to jump into the fray of battle to pull the leaver. Everyone in the company was grateful for her action. We were sitting in plain sight and vulnerable. Though I wished someone else had done the act, I should have done it. There was no question in my mind when I jumped to her aid. I did not know an orc was aiming for her, but I almost sung with relief when I felt the arrow's hot iron in my veins.

She was safe. If I had not interfered that arrow would have struck right to her middle.

Suddenly my barrel was knocked to the side. The act sent me sliding across the wooden floor beneath, aided with the slickness of the fish.

Each of us rose from the barge to follow the man. Once Bilbo helped Laurel up I took over and grabbed her hand to pull her with me. Walking without a grimace or a limp was fairly difficult, though I could not let her see how affected I was. I must be strong and reliable. A child taller than the company ran towards us, "Da! Our house, it's being watched!"

Bard instructed us to get into the water. The ice cold took my breath away. Laurel shivered, in turn I tried to pull her closer to give her some of my heat. We swam underneath the walkway under Bard, following him as he went. It was hard to keep your head tilted just right to breathe and to swim with enough speed to keep up with his brisk walk. Somewhere along the line he must have given instructions elsewhere to someone on where to go.

A soft knock could be heard somewhere above. Dwalin grunted and pulled himself up through an opening above us. "If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip yer arms off," he snarled at someone on the other side. Bilbo followed, struggling as I tried to push him upwards. I sank beneath the water myself, coming up and gasping for air. Laurel followed next while I repeated the action.

"Da…why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet," a small girl called out above me.

A toilet?

Once we were out of the water and led up the stairs into Bard's home, we were offered blankets and clothing to change into. Laurel disappeared with the small girl children into another room to change. Each of us stripped and re-clothed in the man's clothes. They were large and barely fit in the right places.

Eventually Laurel returned to me. I would not settle for her to take place next to me, and she struggled while I placed her in my lap. "Kili," she hissed softly while placing her hands on my chest.

Idly my hand rose to play with the courting braid in her hair, fingers tracing the bead. "What is it little doe," I asked softly.

Slowly her harsh gaze softened. "It’s not appropriate for me to sit on you like this. Especially in front of everyone," she whispered while she tried to look and see who was staring.

"We are cold. Only offering comfort to one another," I replied curtly, "it is not as if I am caressing you or placing my lips on your skin."

Thorin's voice cut out through the rest of the company. "A Dwarvish Wind-Lance."

Silence became over the company as he paced back and forth in the home.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Bilbo's soft voice came over the rest.

Balin cleared his throat as he looked at the lance as well, "He had. The last time we saw such a weapon, the city was on fire. It was the day that Smaug came. The day that he destroyed Dale, the bowman of the city was called upon to kill the beast.

"The dragon's hide is tough, tougher than that of the strongest armor. Only a black arrow could have pierced that hide. Few of these arrows were ever made."

Thorin snorted rudely. The sound was that of insult. "Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different," he scowled. My eyes lingered on my own Halfling archer. Her eyes were busy working over the house, taking in everything. They landed above the hearth of the fire, green pines lighting with discover. All that was there was hanging pots and pans.

The boy spoke up, distracting me, voice strong and assured, "You will know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing of the beast. One more shot and he would have killed it."

This is not something that I would doubt myself. The only person I had met personally that could shoot just as well as me or better was Laurel. Sometimes she did not realize just how true her aim was. Without thinking on it long, she killed two trolls and shot bustards out of the sky. All the while being stealthy and quiet. Granted her excellent archery skills were probably instinct from her Elvish traits, but Smaug is meant to be a large dragon. The lance was powerful enough, so aim just had to be well enough to pierce the beast in it's large chest. A skilled human could do it.

Dwalin genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time. "That is only but a fairy story lad. Nothin' more. The beast is unharmed and sleepin' in that there mountain."

"Where are our weapons we were promised," Thorin asked.

Bard left and shortly returned with wet weapons. If you could even call them that. They were clearly handmade and unsuitable. The things were liable to fall apart and not even pierce skin with the hardest swing. Even the confused look on Laurel's face told tales of her hesitance to accept these weapons.

With our escape from Mirkwood, Laurel and Bilbo were able to retrieve us the majority of our weapons. Fighting the elves and orcs had us loosing almost half. Thankfully Laurel had her sword, bow, and arrows. Unfortunately my own broke in my barrel while flowing down the river.

"These are a joke," Bofur hollered over the rest of the complaints.

Bard was covered in rage, "You will not find better outside the city armory. All weapons are held under lock and key."

Eventually an argument broke between uncle and the man. Laurel had long left me to trail along the home in her child dress. It was odd, seeing her in something that was not meant for a woman but a small girl. It almost gave her a childlike appearance. If I had not known she was a grown woman (in the eyes of men) then I would have thought she was in her early to late puberty. After everything I had seen and heard from her lips, I knew better. Laurel was clearly full grown and beautiful.

"Thorin," Laurel hissed from the corner of the room, stopping the argument quickly. "I've seen you kill an orc with your bare hands just hours ago. Bard has done what we asked of him, and paid for, and was even kind enough to give us clothes and warmth. It is very rude to continue to berate him."

Surprisingly enough uncle held his tongue and shot a look of disdain to Bard and not Laurel. The act itself had my eyebrows high and questioning. Fili seemed just as surprised, if not more. Laurel was not a favorite of Thorin's, and neither Fili nor I spoke to him in such a way. Bard grunted and fled from the room, telling his son in hushed whispers that we were not to leave the house. Ideally I would not want to leave at the moment anyway. It was dark and I was tired greatly. The pain in my thigh throbbed harshly, causing me to hiss in the back of my throat. In moments Laurel returned to me, pressing my hair out of my face to hold it softly.

"Would you like something for the pain," she asked.

"'Tis alright," I muttered, "I will survive. You should not talk to uncle like that. Especially in front of the company."

At my words he materialized next to us.

"She was right," he grunted. "He did what was asked, what he was paid for. Tonight we need to sneak into the armory and get those weapons."

Did Thorin just say Laurel was right? With his words my eyes grew and landed on the beauty. Dwalin and Balin called uncle over to discuss the next move of tactic.

Fili slumped next to me, elbows on knees as he peered at Laurel with deep questioning eyes. "What witch craft did you bestow on him," he asked in all seriousness.

"Yes what craft," I muttered along, "and when should I start to question my hearts yearning for you as true or magic?"

Her jaw dropped, hands on hips as her brow furrowed in disbelief. "I am not a witch! I don't know why he is suddenly being nice to me," she whispered the last part.

"They are right," Ori looked perplexed, "it is pretty odd that he suddenly has taken a liking to you. Let alone let you talk to him in such a way. Even if you did save his life."

She huffed and trailed off into the kitchen where the children were standing around cleaning or talking quietly to themselves. I could make out her speaking and introducing herself to them. Every once in a while I could hear her speak up to an unnecessary level, or blocking us from view with her body altogether.

On the other side of the room I could hear Thorin speak loudly of his plans to steal weapons from the city. "Go tell him that he is being too harsh and loud with his theft," I nudged my brother, "the children will hear and tell Bard. He will try and stop us. Laurel is trying to distract them."

I watched as Fili did what I mentioned, and smiled when I saw Thorin's lips twitch at the sight of my love working to help us.

The next hour passed slowly, though over time we were all dry and getting ready to depart. Laurel convinced the boy to lend her a pair of his trousers and shirts. After she changed we rose to leave and carry out our plan.

"Where are you going," the boy stood in the doorway as we tried to exit.

"Please move boy," Balin asked kindly, "we were given what we asked for and paid rightfully for it. We are due to leave and continue on our journey."

The young man shook his head and extended his arms out to either side of the door, "Da said you are not to leave, so you will not leave."

"Bain," Laurel gently grabbed his arms and lowered them, "I'm sorry but we do have to leave. We can't stay. Your father won't blame you for us going, you can't stop us either."

Eventually he nodded and left our exit. The darkness of the night covered our slight forms, but it did not stop the thundering of boots across the wooden planks. No one even knew where to look to begin with. Either way we walked as quietly as we could to find the city armory.

We came upon a large rickety building fort of sorts that was made of wood and bolts. About three dwarves high was a smallish window. Nori heaved Dori on top of his shoulders. "Lass, could ye climb in through the window and let us in through the door," Bofur offered his hand to her. Laurel took it readily and stifled a scream when she was tossed into the air and caught buy Dori. The dwarf heaved her by the feet and pushed her up and to the window. In the dark I could make out her lithe form disappear into the shabby shack.

Moments later the door creaked open softly, revealing my little doe. Half of the company stayed behind to keep a look out while Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, Laurel, and myself started to gather weapons.

Inside there were enough weapons to suffice for a small army of fifty or so. If each member had one sword and smaller weapons apiece. Laurel started to gather all that she could hold, I attempted to take them from her. "Let me carry, I can hold more," I whispered.

"Are you sure? I saw you limping across the walkways," she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Yes," I muttered annoyed. In moments I fought the weapons out of her hands and started to descend the stairs.

Suddenly the searing pain blossomed into something uncontrollable, and I gasped, feeling my leg give out. It happened so quickly but it felt as though ages passed while I fell down the flight of stairs. Each step hit me on the way down, and I could feel swords slicing at my clothes and nicking my skin. What was most worrying was all the noise of my body falling and the metal tinging together made.

Two moments of silence passed. Whistles started to ring through the air, killing any silence we had. Feet hammered down the wooden walkways towards us. Guards were pointing swords and staffs with knifes in our faces. Laurel of course stood in front of me to protect me from the weapons. Silly woman.

One guard grabbed her by the wrist and attempted to yank her away from me. Dwalin, who was closest, jumped and knocked the weapons away from his face to stand in front of her and deter the guard from his actions. "She ain't goin' nowhere, and do not point weapons at a lady you mongrel," he muttered knocking away more spears pointed at us.

Slowly they rounded us up one by one and started to march us to the center of the town, in front of a large brick building. A small greasy man poked his head out, looking alarmed before going back in where he came from. Soon another large bulbous man returned outside with him.

"What is the meaning of this," the larger man stated.

The captain of the guard stood forward, "We caught them stealing weapons from the armory sire."

"Ah, enemies of the state!"

Dwalin tore his way forward to growl at the man, "Hold yer tongue! You do not know to whom ya speak. This is no criminal, this is Thorin! Son of Thrain! Son of Thror!"

Uncle laid a gentle hand on his friend and came into view to speak as well. "We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland! I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats carrying fine silks and gems. This was center of all trade in the North, not some peasant forsaken town!

"I would see those days return. We would send wealth and riches from the great flowing halls of Erebor!"

Cheers started to erupt from the people that gathered around us. It seemed that everyone in the town had awoken to see all the commotion. Laurel was holding onto my waist, resting her head on my chest. Without even realizing it I was giving her the heft of my weight. Softly I tried to stand straighter and hold my own.

"Death," Bard's voice echoed around us, "that is what you will bring to us Master Dwarf! Dragon-fire and ruin that will surely come when you awaken the beast. It will destroy us all. You have no right, no right at all to enter that mountain!"

Thorin advanced on the stairs leading up to the building so that he was eye to eye with the tall man Bard.

"I have the only right," he muttered darkly. It was enough to raise the hairs on my neck. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see us fulfill this prophecy? Will you share in the great wealth of the dwarves of Erebor? What say you?"

The large bulbous man opened his arms wide, chuckling as he spoke, "I say unto you Thorin Oakenshield… welcome! Welcome thrice more, King under the Mountain!"

I felt Laurel hug me a little tighter.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 16: Lucid Trickery

Next Chapter >> Chapter 18: Likeness of One is not the Other

[anns-lgbt-inclusive-anime-blog]

bucci gang's first stand battles

awright, a little vague but i got this

also, trigger warning, graphic depictions of violence and drug use and rape!!!

~~~

Bruno wasn’t sure what he was doing. He had this brand new ability that Polpo had called a stand. And this was his first time using it. 

Polpo had said it was named Sticky Fingers...weird name. 

The enemy was also using a Stand. His Stand was much faster. And much stronger. It’s punches landed on Bruno’s much smaller body relentlessly. When he let up to breathe, Bruno was sobbing on the ground. Obviously, this man had no problems killing a child like himself. He was already bleeding from multiple wounds on his arms and chest. 

His Stand reached up one more time to land a final hit before he blacked out, but on instinct, Bruno cried out his Stand’s name. A humanoid figure, similar to his enemy’s, blurred into existence before him and threw a fierce punch at the older man. 

Immediately, his head was detached from his body. His body from the neck down went limp and collapsed. Bruno wanted this man to suffer. He was willing to make a child hurt for his own goals. 

Bruno hoped he rotted. The zippers disappeared and the man was left to bleed out and die.

 Then, he realized that this was the first time he had ever used his Stand ability. And it was zippers. How interesting. He was excited to learn more tricks that his ability had to offer. 

===

Pannacotta was an interesting anomaly. He passed Polpo’s test and had already called out his Stand once before. But, he never used Purple Haze. He just...stared at the Stand for, like, ten minutes, before dismissing it. 

Purple Haze was disgusting. A monster. Pannacotta didn’t believe that this thing was a reflection of his soul. He didn’t even know what it could do. 

But he discovered that soon enough. While on a walk home from the grocery store, he was shifting the bag between his arms to reach his phone. He was knocked to the ground by another person. He looked crazed. His eyes were dilated and he was trembling. When Pannacotta looked closer, he could see flecks of white dusting his nose. 

Oh, so this guy was that kind of person. Bruno warned him that these types of people were unstable and dangerous. 

But now, Pannacotta was sure, he was going to witness it first-hand. 

The man swung a fist at him, which he’d easily dodged. “Watch where you’re goin, punk! I’m walkin’ here!”

“I was watching where I was going! Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

Oh, now Pannacotta is fucked. Bruno always said to never engage with a druggie. They can and will attempt to harm you. 

The man called out, “Nice Guy!”

Oh, now Pannacotta was really fucked. This guy was a Stand user. A pink monster-looking thing emerged from his torso and towered over the both of them. It reached for his throat and he rolled out of the way. 

Pannacotta wasn’t going to call out Purple Haze unless he was in immediate danger. He hated that thing. 

‘Nice Guy’ continued after him as he sprinted away from the attacker but the thing was gaining on him. He growled in frustration. He could feel Purple Haze bubbling under his skin, itching to get out. Pannacotta forced himself to calm down. 

But this man was so persistent. He couldn’t help it. Purple Haze burst from his figure and threw a barrage of punches at this man. There was a sound of glass shattering and then the man was melting. But Pannacotta was so full of rage, he didn’t notice. 

When it was over, and he came to, there was a pile of quickly dissolving flesh at his feet. It smelled horrible. 

He stepped away from it and turned the other direction. And he fled. And with that, he knew exactly what it was that his Stand could do. 

~~~

Narancia remembers very clearly getting punctured with the arrow. He remembers how the lighter went out and he panicked, only to relight it. Then, he remembered the thing dragging him up into the air. He remembers it was saying something and then the arrow came from deep in its throat and it stabbed him through his neck. 

It wasn’t a very good memory that Narancia liked reliving, but it gave him his awesome Stand! An aeroplane! How cool is that?! 

And it shot real bullets and bombs! That was so cool! 

Buccellati had been hesitant to send him on a mission, but eventually, he had to. As his capo, it was his duty to send his soldatos on missions. But as his caretaker, of course he would be hesitant. He was supposed to make sure Narancia stayed safe and out of harm’s way. 

Buccellati supposed he couldn’t do both at the same time. It was impossible. 

Anyway, Narancia was sure he’d have fun on this mission! It was going to be his first time using his stand for fighting. And not something dumb, like looking for Fugo or Buccellati just because he was bored. 

It was a solo mission. It took Bruno a lot of convincing just to let him go on this one mission alone. 

But now that he was here, in this situation, he could see why Bruno would be concerned. This Stand user was strong, and quick. Narancia could barely keep up with him. 

Aerosmith was quick, yes, but it was also not precise enough to hit just his target and leave no casualties. Of course, Narancia hadn’t thought of that, and had used Aerosmith prematurely. 

He injured a total of maybe fifty-seven bystanders. He should’ve thought about his surroundings, like Panna had taught him several times. 

Well, no harm done if Buccellati and Panna don’t find out. 

“FIFTY-SEVEN INNOCENT BYSTANDERS SHOT AND INJURED, NARANCIA,” Panna’s voice rang throughout the hall. Luckily, the hall was empty and nobody but the two boys arguing and Buccellati were there. 

“YEAH I GOT THAT, FUGO, QUIT YELLIN’ AT ME!” 

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO USE YOUR STAND UNLESS YOU ARE POSITIVE NO ONE AROUND WILL GET HARMED!”

“I WASN’T THINKING!”

“CLEARLY!”

“ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU,” Buccellati’s voice boomed around them, they both flinched and stood at attention. 

“Narancia, I understand that you were panicked, but you should’ve kept a level head and we’ll work on that.” Narancia ducked his head with shame. “And Fugo, you shouldn’t have yelled at Narancia. He’s new to this, yelling at him won’t make him learn.”

That night, both Narancia and Panna slept restlessly. 

~~~

Leone Abbacchio knew he was absolutely useless in a Stand battle. It was just something that felt like common sense to him. 

After manifesting Moody Blues for the first time, he knew immediately that she would be useless against other Stands. She just wasn’t meant for fighting. Her stature was lean, but not lean enough that would indicate she could stand herself in a fight. Her movements were delicate, graceful. 

Leone was always amazed at how gentle she was, compared to how brutish he was. She was his soul, essentially. So why was she so different?

For his first Stand-affiliated mission, he was sent with Narancia to keep him safe. Buccellati knew that Leone was more than capable of taking care of himself in a hand-to-hand fight. 

But he also knew that Moody Blues would be essentially...worthless for any Stand battles that were to take place during this mission. It only needed her to replay whatever deal had taken place here and then they were supposed to leave. 

Of course, things rarely ever went his way. There was a Stand user already waiting for them, apparently having been stalking them. He had listened in to their conversation and formulated a plan. 

As any cocky antagonist, he monologued about how he was so confident that he was going to win this fight. He obviously hadn’t encountered Narancia’s Aerosmith before. 

That fucker left no survivors. 

But, for some reason or another, the man didn’t target Narancia, who obviously had the stronger stand. He targeted Leone, who was vulnerable at the moment, due to Moody Blues having started rewinding to the scene they needed. 

The pale-haired man readied his fists, but he knew it would be for nothing. This man had a Stand. Any Stand user could look at him and tell. 

He exuded a sort of aura that gave him away. Every Stand user did. No matter how well they tried to fit in, they would always have that aura surrounding them. 

But Moody Blues, without his volition, stopped her rewinding and launched a punch at the dude’s Stand. His Stand was much larger, and much meaner looking, but Moody didn’t seem to have a care. 

She threw her punch with as much ferocity as she could muster and landed it onto the larger Stand. 

It did little to deter it. In fact, her arm seemed to be shaking where it was still implanted in the larger Stand’s torso. 

Leone had never seen her do that before. 

But then he hears Narancia’s cry and the mighty roar of Aerosmith’s propellers. Then, there was the sound of the Stand’s guns going off repeatedly and Moody Blues called herself back before she was a casualty in Aerosmith’s range. 

The Stand and the man both became littered with an unimaginable amount of bullet wounds and dropped dead. Aerosmith probably hit a vital organ. Or he bled out. Whichever came first, I guess. 

After Leone let Narancia catch his breath, they continued the replay of the scene they needed in the first place. The older man made Narancia promise he wouldn’t tell anyone about what Moody had done to protect him. 

The boy reluctantly agreed. 

~~~

Guido Mista was a strange man. Or, rather, boy. No older than seventeen, wandering the streets of his hometown of Napoli. It was getting late, but he knew his siblings were out with friends that night. No need for him to go back and watch them that night because nobody was home to watch. 

Unfortunately, he had the horrible luck of encountering something that he should never have had to see. 

A woman was being beat, her shirt was falling off her shoulders, and there were three men surrounding her. 

He felt calm. Which was weird. He should’ve felt enraged, disgusted. How dare anybody do this to someone? It was wrong. It was unjustified. It was disgusting. 

But he only felt calm. He walked forward with a staggering amount of confidence and tore the men off of her, respectfully averting his gaze from her. 

All three of them were shouting at him, pulling out firearms and firing at him. He stood unusually still, somehow able to direct every bullet away from him. When he looked closer, he could see small creatures on the bullets, kicking them away from him. He didn’t know what they were, but they were helping him, so he didn’t dwell on them. 

He used the little guys to his advantage and as they kept redirecting the bullets, he stepped closer to them and disarmed them. 

Stealing one of their pistols, he pointed it at them. The two who still had their pistols also directed it at him. They fired at him, but he’d already shot. He wasn’t sure when he’d shot, but he was so sure he did. 

Bang!

Bang!

Bang! 

Bang!

Four shots. Three dead men. 

As Guido came down from the calmness, the high of murder, he let his arm fall down to his side. The woman was rushedly tugging her clothes back on so he averted his glance away from her. 

As he observed the scene around him, he realized the gun was humming in his hand, vibrating against the skin of his palm. He was pretty sure guns didn’t do that normally. 

He brought it up to face level, seeing the little creatures crawling out of the ammunition. “Mista,” they cried. 

“What are you…” he mumbled, holding his palm out so they could climb on. 

“We’re you, Mista,” one shouted. 

“Yeah! We’re you! We’re hungry, Mista,” another one cried. 

“Feed us, Mista!” 

~~~

Giorno had always been laughed at, jeered at. For as long as he could remember. But now that everybody wanted to be around him, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He was definitely much more attractive than before. 

He remembers being very sick, unable to move, unsure if he wanted the blankets on or off. But when he woke the next morning, his hair was blond and his face was sharper. 

Nobody recognized him. Or remembered him, for when he told him their names, there was no trace of recognition there. He wasn’t sure why. 

But he was sure about one thing: the ghost following him around. It was gorgeous, if not creepy. It looked sleek and smooth, but when Giorno touched it- him, he thought to himself- he was rough and coarse. He felt like a naked cat. 

Giorno didn’t know the ghost had superpowers until he was fiddling with his pencil while he studied, thinking about how much he’d rather be at the frog pond, playing with the frogs. 

His pencil slipped from his hands and it became pliant, soft. It morphed into the perfect shape of a common frog. It even croaked!

He leaned down to take a closer look. It was a beautiful frog. 

With his hand brought down to its level, it hopped onto his hand. 

What a beautiful specimen. A wonderful little pet. He knew, however, that holding the frog for too long in a dry hand would be harmful to the creature, so he set it back down on his desk. 

It hopped onto his window sill and sat there for the rest of the time he studied. 

He thought this was the most it could do. He was wrong. He was very very wrong. On his way to school from the dormitories one morning, a woman approached him. She was tall. Very tall. Her head was shaved and her eyes were beady. 

She stared at him for a long while, not doing anything. When Giorno attempted to walk away, she put her arm out to stop him. “May I…help you, ma’am?”

“Are you Giorno Giovanna,” she questioned, no hesitance. 

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who’s asking?”

No sooner after that, she stepped back and a ghost appeared behind her. This ghost was a lot smaller than Giorno’s own, but from the sheer power it resonated, the blond felt it was safe to be cautious. 

The ghost readied its arms as if it were going to fight Giorno, which was ridiculous. It was the size of a ragdoll, he could just swat it away. But then, the ghost’s arms and torso and legs had actual spikes growing out of them. 

Then, it lunged at him and he rolled to the ground to avoid being cut and tackled. 

“Your father and his group of followers took everything from me,” she snarled. “I’ll make sure he pays. By killing his son!”

The ghost attacked him again, firing something at him. He had to duck before it hit him, so he couldn’t get a good look at it. 

He didn’t even want to, he just focused on getting to school and away from this psycho woman. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him. The ghost chased him all the way to his school. He was huffing and puffing clouds of steam against the cold winter air. 

“Dio will pay!”

There was another attempt at stabbing him with her stupid ghost thing. He wasn’t in a position that would allow him to move fast enough and his own ghost stirred up in front of him protectively. 

He watched his ghost with wariness. What was he doing?

Then, it gently touched a pebble on the ground, watching as it mutated and grew bigger- a tree. A huge sycamore tree. Those don’t even grow natively in Italy, let alone on the side of a canal. 

But the woman targeting him huffed indignantly and stomped her foot. “Stop struggling! Your father deserves this! He deserves to suffer!”

She was being unbelievably childish. He didn’t even know his father. 

So, his ghost could not only make frogs, but sycamore trees, as well? He wondered if he could make any species of tree or frog…

Her stand continued to bat at him and he continued to evade and dodge every attack. It was tiring. He was going to run out of stamina soon. The woman seemed to be aware, as she smirked and jutted out her hip smugly. “Tired yet, Giovanna?”

He grit his teeth and, as a last resort, had his own ghost create a wall of some sort of vine between him and the lady. She gawked in surprise and he took this moment as an opportunity to regain his stamina for a short moment. 

When he looked closer, he realized that these were grapevines. With ripe grapes. He plucked one from the vine and winced as he felt a strand of hair from his head was pulled out. By what, Giorno didn’t know. There was a sinking suspicion that it was from the grape he’d just pulled off the vine. He tossed the grape onto the ground to be safe. 

He stood back up and willed his ghost to fly towards her and punch at her stomach. Apparently, she wasn’t expecting it to happen and she grunted with the impact. She flew so far away and he took this opportunity to run. He didn’t bother calling the police, he knew they weren’t much help and by the time they’d get there, he’d probably be dead. 

So he just ran and ran and ran away from her. He got to class just as the bell rang and a few other classmates sent him weird glances. He sat in his seat and slumped so he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. He was sweaty and he was out of breath and he couldn’t even focus in class. And it was only 8:30 in the morning.

[victoria-hyde]

Fanfiction Of The Dullahan AU

The air carried a bloody tint, lit by pitchforks and torches hoisted into the air by the jeering town. Granny Frankie sneered, bleached hair whipping the air with the same ferocity as the creature's whip. These Dullahan were even more morally revolting than she initially thought. The abomination was young, tears streaming from his abnormally crimson eyes, pleading for mercy. The executioner notched their arrow, and Frankenstein watched on in delight as the headless creature realised, with a wave of hopelessness, that no one was coming to his rescue. Frankie allowed herself a smirk, knowing she had caused the lynching of one of these monsters. Her anticipation-ridden countenance glowed in the hellish light. A high-pitched whistling sounded, then a sickeningly damp thud, as his spark of life was doused. The body crumpled and his head, which was previously grasped so tightly to his chest, tumbled out of his grasp and rolled across the pavement. Frankenstein looked down, meeting the eyeless gaze with a morbid sense of pride and satisfaction. She bent down and held it in the air, soft tufts of hair tickling her knuckles.

"Good riddance to these abominations!" She bellowed, barely audible over the cheering of the crowd.

***

Earlier that week, the old woman was seething with animosity, longing for nothing more than to leave the confines of her musty town and wreak vengeance. She knew she was in no condition to leave though, let alone dispose of one of the Dullahan. She felt her teeth grind together just at the thought of one of those creatures; the crime against nature that her friend had told her, killed her wife Elizabeth. She wouldn't have let her condition stop her, but Creature, was adamant that she take care of herself. Her callous, frosty eyes set ablaze as an idea began to stitch itself together. The cool wooden boards protested under her weight, soon replaced with the indifferent click of stone, as she made her way to the centre of the town, ready to spread some horrifying rumours about the headless horse riders.

She returned home later that evening, satisfied with her unethical day's work. The door clicked shut behind her, as she smirked, unable to recall half the nonsense she had sprouted at anyone who gave her their ear. The specific of her words didn't matter in the end, all that did was the damage in the content. Their name already stunk from one end of this musty town to the other. She stomped towards her bedroom, gratified with the attack on her husband's killers.

***

A furious neigh hollered over the farrago of shouts, breaking Frankenstein out of her scornful reminisce. She jolted, head snapping around in panic as hoofbeats lurched into her ears. The demon riding atop the horse seemed to be made almost entirely of emerald flames, licking at the sides of his steed. The heat was so intense, as would be the wrath of the rider, that she could feel the heat scorch her skin, even from where she was standing. With a pang of horror, she realised this was her victim's companion. She hurriedly lowered the head and attempted to become as inconspicuous as possible. She stared in terror as his midnight steed halted beside his friend's corpse. Frankenstein waited with bated breath as he studied the arrow protruding from the other's back. He lashed around, facing the crowd, features tight with fury.

"Can you see what you've done!?" He shrieked, the villagers' torches fluctuating with the cracks in his voice. A few sharp gasps filled the air as torches were dropped, and a dozen of the villagers nursed singed fingers. "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! NOW THAT YOU'VE STOLEN AN INNOCENT AWAY FROM THEIR FAMILY AND FUTURE!?" A thick blanket of dread uneasily settled over her. "We have left you alone for 100 years, letting you live your lives in peace, and how do you repay us!? By capturing my best friend and murdering him!" Confused and fearful murmurs spread through the audience like a disease. Frankenstein felt sick to her stomach. 'They had left us alone for 100 years? She had killed a young boy -one the same age as her own son-, for no reason. Her wife wasn't murdered?!' Her hand leapt to cover her mouth, but a metallic taste settled on her tongue and stabbed its way up her nose. Frankenstein gagged in horror, unable to look away from the crimson tainting her skin. A suffocating appal hung thick over the gathering, permeating the edges thought.

The fiery man seemed to think he had deemed the gathering enough time to process this, and announced, voice cracking, "WHO IS RES- WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!?" Everyone in the crowd began muttering, barrels of judgemental sideways glances shot at her. These small indications seemed to be enough for the sprite of spite, as his kelpie began thundering towards her. Frankenstein warbled backwards unsteadily and spun on her heel, ready to make an escape.

Then she felt an all too familiar, sickly clench and churn in her gut, an acidic sting in her gullet, and knew she would be subjected to the throes of illness, left at the mercy of a vengeful spirit. She felt the dread welling up inside her or perhaps it was vomit, either way, she knew it wasn't likely she would make it out of this alive. She knew what his rage felt like, and she knew what it had driven her to do and what it had caused. Her knees gave out, sending throbs of agony pulsing in her thighs. She keeled over, retching blood. She wasn't aware of the crowd backing away, or the cease of hooves over the pounding in her ears. Gasping for air, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, she glanced up and saw the jade man gazing down on her with what could only be a pitiful sneer.

"Do it then," she spat, flecks of gore spraying from her mouth. "Kill me. Exact your revenge." The man didn't move, eyes moving up and down her, housing barely constrained but not hidden contempt. "Hurry up!" Her voice was shrill.

"No," the creature stated. "No, I won't. You may be an awful excuse of a person, but you still have a family, and I'm not going to take you from them." He crouched, inches from her face. His voice warped, eerily layering over itself and stinking of time. "You don't deserve the mercy of death. Let your illness be your blight until you shuffle off this mortal coil, ready for me to collect your soul and ease you into a restless slumber. Let your dwindling conscience be an endless barrage of guilt, making you wallow what you have done, and the lies you have spread through this village like a plague." He rose to his feet, eyes glowing, the incantated purple prose nearly tangible in the air, drifting off his tongue like smoke. "I, a being of sin and debauchery, am more human than you." With those parting words, he mounted his steed and departed. Frankenstein didn't look away, even when his glow had long since been swallowed by the horizon and the sun began to rise, his words still ringing in her ears.

The Moral: Don't gossip, it will only end in tears and tragedy. This is shown in how the world's angriest grandma hears a piece of gossip that drives her to enact revenge for an event that never happened, and employs gossiping as her tool of disaster. She later learns that none of what she had been told was true, and she had taken an innocent life. She receives her punishment for her deceit and heinous actions in the form of a curse and a promise, a curse of guilt and suffering, and a promise of a disturbed death. Rumours create all the problems in this short story.

The Dullahan AU is the property of @jeks-tgs on Tumblr. I just changed it up a bit and completely destroyed the timeline and lore for another course project. At this point it is more inspired from their AU. I am terribly sorry. One day, I might give this fandom something besides an angsty AU I did for a school project. That day is not today. 

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.5

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape, panic attack stuff also

Authors Note: Hey I don’t feel too great about this chapter either so sorry if it’s shit. Thanks for reading anyways and if anyone has any suggestions for what they would like to see along the story please hmu and I might be able to work some stuff in here and there.

Previously: Ch.1       Ch.2       Ch.3       Ch.4

I was taking in the fresh air with Carl still by my side when I started getting a bad feeling.

I felt the presence of Carol and Beth coming up behind us. I was stuck watching Hershel talk with the crazed Rick. I prayed that he could get Rick's head on straight enough to come help plan how to deal with the Governor.

That's when I really felt the change in the wind. My stomach turned in circles, a feeling I couldn't shake. I took a step closer to the fence and put my hand on it as I squinted to see into the trees.

I tried to get the warning out, but it was too late. I saw the Governor in the trees and his gun went off before my voice had a chance to reach the others. I grabbed the shirt of Carl to pull him back with me. His hands went to where I gripped his shirt and he started to try and free himself, not realizing what was going on yet. I held tight and yanked his small frame around the corner of the wall just as gunfire exploded out from everywhere around us.

"Shit," Carl muttered just as Beth rushed inside of the prison for weapons hopefully.

Carl took out his gun and fired in the direction of the Governor's men. I sat back helplessly watching Michonne and Carol spray the trees with their own gunfire. I searched for Hershel who was still out in the open, separated from everyone by the fences. He would die, I thought for sure. He had a gun to defend himself if he could, but without two legs to run away on, he was a goner. There goes our only doctor.

Rick was still outside the fence where the Governor's men were, and I had no doubt in my mind they would take him out easily too. And there would go the leader of our gang. To say we were fucked would have been an understatement.

"Emma!" Maggie shouted from across the way with Beth behind her. They had two rifles each and one of them was slid across the ground to me.

In normal circumstances I could have taken that gun and fired away like everyone else. But the Governor's presence had my head a scrambled mess. My heart pounded in my chest so fast I thought it might explode. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I felt like I was back in Woodbury, trapped within the rotting walls. My throat felt swollen when I tried to swallow, making it harder and harder to breath.

It was like my entire body was shutting down and I didn't understand. Seeing the Governor, even if he was separated from me by a yard and two fences, I still pictured him inches from me and pulling me into his truck to take me back to Woodbury. Just the possibility that it might happen had me rendered useless.

"What are you doing?" Carl shouted at me, taking a second to glance at my trembling figure pressed up against the cement wall. "Help us! Get the gun!"

I could hear what he was saying, but it was not reregistering. The only thing I was thinking of was how there was no way we were winning this battle and I would be back with the Governor by the next hour. I couldn't believe how foolish I was to even think that we could have beaten him in the first place.

Just when I didn't think it could get any worse, a van came speeding straight towards the prison and busted down the first gate. It stopped in the middle of the yard where Hershel had been alone. The doors opened up and Walkers were soon stumbling out into the yard one after the next. If Hershel wasn't already dead out there, he would be soon.

My vision crossed at the sight of the multiple Walkers moaning for the want of living flesh. What the fuck was wrong with me? A day ago I stared down the Governor and had no problem with storming up to kill him, but now it was like just the thought of him had me too weak to function.

My whirring mind was about to overload when I blinked away some of the panic and saw that the Governor got back into his truck and was speeding away from the scene, letting the Walkers finish us off.

I managed to swallow down the thick lump in my throat and force myself away from the wall. I scooped up the rifle and surveyed the courtyard, noticing how the noise of our gunfire had drawn in more Walkers to the outer fence.

The group was running out into the courtyard, Michonne at the lead. It took me a beat to see that they were going out to save Hershel, who was miraculously unharmed.

I didn't think twice as I start following everyone out towards the Walkers invading our courtyard. We all fired at the Walkers or used a knife to put them down if they were in reach. I felt the adrenaline, the feeling of life and power, filling my veins. But I still wasn't my usual self, checking the road every second to see if the Governor was coming back. That constant fear ate away at my mind, making me not as sharp as I would have liked to be in a death match with unfeeling creatures.

When a car did fly down the road towards us, my body seized up again. It took more time than I would have like for me to reassure myself that it was only Glenn returning from his poorly timed supply run. But, thank God he came back when he did because he was able to reach Hershel much faster than we were. Glenn pulled up next to him and had Hershel back to safety in no time.

The others were making their way back to the prison as well. But I stood still, mesmerized by the clanking of teeth as I made one Walker head splatter after the next. I was clearing out a path back to the prison as well when I heard the grunts of someone struggling.

I turned back towards the outer fence and I took off running before I really saw him. Rick was overwhelmed by five Walkers with more being attracted to him by the second. They held him against the fence and he was doing his best to push them back. My legs were carrying me as fast as they could to save him, but I wouldn't make it. I wanted to shoot at them, but I didn't trust myself to not accidentally hit Rick.

My hope was dwindling away with every pounding step. A Walker was centimeters from his face and there was nothing I could do. I felt a scream rising in my throat, my frustration getting the best of me. I almost just shut my eyes to look away from what was bound to be a gruesome death until an arrow shot from the trees and put down the Walker that was on him. Rick was just as confused as I was until we both spotted the Dixon brothers at the same time.

All the doubts I had about Rick or Hershel or the entire group's capabilities were washed away at the sight of Daryl Dixon. I knew that we would be okay. I knew the Governor wasn't getting me back, at least not today. Even though I didn't see eye to eye with Daryl, just his presence kept me grounded; he kept me sane. The glue that held everything together was back, and he was here to clean up the God damn mess that was made while he was gone.

I rushed to the fence, feeling entirely myself one again, and used my knife to kill the Walkers that weren't being taken care of by Rick, Daryl, or Merle. I felt my built up rage be released into every stab I took through the fence. My body worked wildly with no more fear holding me back.

Once the Walkers surrounding them were dead, Daryl stood back, his eyes flicking up to Rick. There was going to be more arguing about Merle inside, I knew that much, but there was a silent agreement and pact that was made between Rick and Daryl. I looked between the two of them before Daryl finally met my eyes. He stared, frustratingly unreadable. I didn't dare let myself look at Merle before I spun around and started swinging my blade at the Walkers coming at me from my side of the fence.

The boys quickly ran around to meet me on the inside, helping one another out so no one would become overwhelmed. Rick had a look of revenge in his eyes that made me grin. It was about damn time everyone got fired up about the Governor, we needed to take killing him seriously. We had our backs to each other, moving as one to take out any Walkers. I felt calm with Rick and Daryl flanking me, they gave me a sense of protection that I don't think I had since the world went to shit. It was strange how connected to them I felt, almost like a family looking out for one another.

Back inside I shook away the idea that these people gave a fuck about me other than because I could help them with the Governor problem. I needed to chill with that damn family thinking. I couldn't let myself get attached, I couldn't.

I sat by myself while Hershel cleaned everyone up. He stitched and cleaned fresh wounds or re-opened ones. Almost nobody talked, not even about the fact that Merle was there now. We were too exhausted I think to try and start up that screaming battle again. Tomorrow we could all be mad that Merle was here or that the Governor attacked. Tomorrow we could plan more destruction, but for now we needed healing both physically and mentally.

One by one people disappeared into their own rooms. I was locked away separate from their cells with Merle and Michonne. Rick said he couldn't trust us yet and we needed to stay separate from everyone else when they slept. I understood the reasoning, but I wasn't happy about sleeping in the same room as Merle.

Michonne had taken to a corner and while I would much rather speak to her that to Merle, she didn't look like she wanted to be bothered. So, I huffed out a breath and looked to Merle who was leaned up against a wall, inspecting the metal that covered where his right hand used to be.

"You came back," I said, my voice sounding much louder than I wanted it to sound in the silent prison. I wasn't being rude to him or trying to start something. If I had learned anything about Merle from the time I've spent with him, it was that he was just as hot headed as I was and that he often said things that he didn't mean in the heat of the moment. That's why I didn't hold our argument prior to his departure against him and I would be using this conversation to hopefully make amends.

I think Merle and I were a little too similar sometimes. We both had shit lives and basically raised our younger siblings on our own. We both were too stubborn for our own good. And we both sure as hell didn't know when to keep our mouths shut.I think that is why we always got too personal from time to time like when he brought up my deceased sibling before. We knew where to hit the other where it would hurt; our weaknesses were our little brothers.

"Why did you come back?" I kept my voice light, showing him that I just genuinely wanted to know the answer and that I wasn't going to nag at him about anything.

He spared a second to look up at me. "We knew you dickheads would need us. Even if you can't admit that."

I stared down at my hands, not believing that was the reason, but also not denying it. "Well, I guess you're right." I stood up and slid a cigarette out from the package that lay beside of him, glad he let me take one. "If you and Daryl hadn't come back, Rick might be dead."

Merle silently held out a lighter to light my cigarette for me. It was probably the most kind thing he'd done for me besides sit and talk with me during the lonely nights of captive life. It was also as much of an apology that I would ever get from Merle and I took it as a sign that we were on good terms again.

"So I guess we do need you guys," I squeaked out before taking a long drawl on the cigarette and making my way to the door leading outside. I left Merle speechless I guess because he didn't say anything as I left to finish my smoke.

I didn't want to smoke inside since there was a baby indoors. I stood out and looked up at the bright moon. The growls of the Walkers that were still in the courtyard kept the moment form being peaceful and enjoyable. I huffed on my cigarette and slowly strode around the area, not thinking anyone else would be out this late.

Boy was I wrong. I turned the corner to where the barrels of clean water were, the place where I had cleaned myself upon my arrival. Now standing there was Daryl. His back was facing me and he hadn't noticed I stumbled upon him yet. I wanted to turn away and leave him be, give him the privacy that he came out here to have. I really did. But I was glued in place.

His shirt lay on the ground next to him and my eyes watched every muscle in his back and arms moving. The moonlight bounced off of him in such a way that just illuminated his muscles even more. It took me a minute to notice the scars that were on his back and shoulders, obviously from a beating. I recognize them to match the ones Merle had given me during my first week at Woodbury. Merle was crueler back before he took the time to chat and get to know me, so that was another thing on the list that I had forgiven him for.

At first I wondered if Merle had given the scars to Daryl too, but any thoughts about Merle and scars were long gone when Daryl raised an arm up to stretch it out, the muscles flexing as he did so. My knees weakened at the sight of his bare skin. I swallowed hard and tried to look away again, but it was no use.

I really knew it was too late when he turned around on his heel, spotting me looking on like a creep. The fire in his eyes told me I was in for it.

"The hell ya think yer doing'?"

I shook my head and tried to keep my eyes on his face and not his bare chest as he stalked towards me. "Sorry, I was just–"

"Yeah? Just what? Snoopin' around in my business?"

I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms. My mind switched into defensive mode and my anger began to spark. "I was just taking a walk, asshole. I don't give a fuck about what you do."

He wasn't buying it. "Ya sure did stand there long enough."

There was no explaining that without sounding like a total idiot, which I was not about to have at the moment. So, I asked the only question that would steer the conversation away from the fact that I was stupidly admiring him. "Did Merle do that to you?"

His eyes shot up to mine as he shoved his arms through a sleeveless button up shirt to cover up his scars. He might have been a sheet of hot anger, but I saw the embarrassment and insecurity that he was trying to cover up. He did a damn good job at covering it up too; I thought he might hit me he looked so mad. "You don't know nothin' 'bout us! Stop actin' like you do just cause Merle told ya a few stories! He didn't scar me up. He would never h–"

His rant was cut off at the sight of me turning around and pulling up the back of my shirt. I could feel his eyes running along every scar that crisscrossed down my back. I let him stand in silence and take it all in for a long time before I dropped the tank top back down over my skin and turned to face him. I knew he wouldn't listen to me try and explain that Merle would, in fact, do something like that, so I had to show him instead. It did the trick of shutting up his tempered ass.

His eyes dropped to the ground and I could tell he was still fuming, but for a different reason now. "Merle do that?" He asked dangerously quiet. In his heart he knew the answer before he even asked the question. It was just hard believing his brother was still fucking up other peoples lives on a daily basis.

I shrugged it off, taking another drawl on the cigarette to distract myself from the reality of it. I didn't mind that I might look less attractive with all of the scars I had, I just felt ashamed that I wasn't strong enough to prevent something like this from happening.

"It was before he knew me. He was doing his job." I tried my best to take some of the blame off of Merle. I didn't want Daryl to be mad about it. This entire conversation only came about because I was gawking at him, not because I wanted to know or even cared about his scars nor mine.

Daryl shook his head. "Doesn't make it right."

"Doesn't matter," I said quickly. "Nothing that can be done about it."

Daryl knew I was one tough bitch. There was no denying it after what I'd gone through, but he still looked like he was pitying me. I was starting to despise the way he did that. I was not some God damn damsel in distress. To get the attention completely off of me this time, I decided to dig deeper about where his scars came from, which I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't care about. Well... maybe I was a little curious. But still, I told him about mine, it was only fair he return the action.

"If it wasn't Merle, then who?"

Daryl was confused at first, his thoughts on Merle beating the shit out of you because some asshat wanted him to. When he realized you were talking about his own experiences he shook his head. "Piece of shit dad," he confirmed casually and gnawed at the skin around his thumb. "He did it to Merle first. Then me. Merle took a lot for me though. Guess he didn't tell ya that story huh?"

Merle talked a little about how his dad drank a lot, but he never mentioned him being abusive. Suddenly I understood why Merle would be the way he is. Without thinking I muttered, "Like father like son."

Daryl glared at me, his eyes a deep pool of hurt and anger and I realized that what I had said would include him too and not just Merle. "That what ya think of me? Ya think I'll beat ya? Or any of them in there?" He motioned to inside the prison where everyone was sleeping. His voice grew louder as he went on, his boiling anger returning in an instant.

"No! I didn't mean that. I know you wouldn't–"

"Nah," he cut me off curtly. "For the last time, ya don't know me. So stop pretending ya do."

He shouldered by me harder than was necessary, leaving me alone with my smoke still in hand. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose once he was gone.

Why did the Dixon boys have to be so fucking sensitive?

***

Tags:

@daryldixonandfrogs

[toomuchtimenerd]

Review for ‘The Wrath and the Dawn’ by Renee Ahdieh

So I read The Wrath and the Dawn and its sequel, The Rose and the Dagger about a week ago, so hopefully my memory/thoughts/feelings have remained mostly intact. A great part of having pretty bad short term memory is that my book hangovers generally don’t last too long, but the downside is that I very quickly forget the intricate details of plots like... as soon as I finish the book or series. But I distinctly remember having a lot of feels after I finished this duology, so let’s see how this goes.

I originally wanted to read The Wrath and the Dawn when it was first published in 2015, but I decided not to because I have a HUGE aversion to starting book series that are incomplete. Why? Well like I said, I have a pretty bad memory so I generally forget a lot of small details in a story pretty much as soon as I finish reading. This really isn’t helpful when the next book in a series is published at least a year after the previous book, and this is even more unhelpful considering I’m a relatively quick reader and can finish most books within a day or two if I’m on a binge. So I decided to skip Wrath and put it on the backburner, fully intending to pick it up as soon as its sequel came out in 2016. Well, 2016 was a hectic year for me in a lot of ways, and I ended up never reading Wrath... nor did I read any of the books that I had decided to shelve for later. But it’s okay! It’s 2020, and I have begun my unending quest to read all of the greatest YA fiction hits (and likely more). With that said, let’s dive in.

The Wrath and the Dawn is (in my opinion) a fast-paced story that takes place in the kingdom of Khorasan. Just googled it, and turns out Khorasan is a real historical region in what is now modern-day Iran. The story is a “retelling” or “reimagining” of a story from the ancient Arabic folktale collection known as One Thousand and One Nights, or otherwise known as Arabian Nights. I personally like the former title, as it sounds so much more... everlasting. Not sure if that’s the best word to describe it, or if it even makes sense, but I’m just gonna leave that note there. So the story is supposedly set during the golden age of the middle east and begins with our heroine Shahrzad getting married to the Caliph of Khorasan. At this point, the Caliph is known to have been marrying a new girl every day and having her executed at dawn. No one knows why, and when Shahrzad’s best friend becomes a victim to this madness our heroine takes it upon herself to take revenge. She volunteers to become the Caliph’s next bride and her game plan is to basically just stay alive long enough to kill the Caliph with her own hands... or something like that. 

Obviously she wasn’t successful, otherwise this series would have ended much sooner. Shahrzad manages to stay alive for the first two nights by telling stories, and while I personally have not read One Thousand and One Nights I assume that the stories Shahrzad told come directly from that collection. Shahrzad is later taken to be executed, but the Caliph himself stops the hanging and this is where we start to see the Caliph for more than what he seems to be. Their growing relationship begins to unfold at this point, and a lot of elements in the story such as magic and politics come to light. 

So let’s start with the romance, because I am a hardcore lover of all things romance and this is always my favorite topic to begin with. While I adore the Caliph and Shahrzad’s relationship, I can’t help but wonder “Why her?” By the time the Caliph marries Shahrzad, he has already married and executed 71 or 72 other women. What is it about her that actually makes him go like, “Oh wait. Maybe there is another way to end my curse. Maybe I don’t need to go through and kill 30 more brides.” We find out that the Caliph had quite a lot of appreciation and respect for all the brides he had to execute, so much so that he went and wrote each of their families a personalized letter about his sorrow and admiration for the girl (none of which he ever sent out). But what exactly was it about Shahrzad that made him decide he would rather suffer the consequences of his curse than see through its completion? Shahrzad captivated him with her storytelling, a trait that is supposedly reminiscent of the Caliph’s mother, whom the Caliph had a very close and loving relationship with until she met her tragic end. So I guess that’s something that brought out a side of the Caliph that was lost for a very long time after his mother died, but I still feel like that’s not quite enough to make me understand “Why Shahrzad?”. 

With that question aside, I do think their relationship is paced quite well and I am glad to see that Ahdieh didn’t just make them fall instalove with each other quite so fast. Shahrzad is filled with hatred for her husband, and while this does melt away by the end of the first book I think it is portrayed quite fittingly. The slight love triangle (if I can even call it that since it was just so obvious that the heroine would end up with the Caliph) was surprisingly not too annoying. I loved Tariq’s character; his devotion and loyalty are truly admirable in a man. I can’t help but feel bad for the guy though, considering he has been with Shahrzad their whole lives and he really was that close to asking for her hand in marriage before she decided to take off and kill the Caliph on her own. The reconciliation between Tariq and the Caliph in the second book, The Rose and the Dagger was also well-written. I still remember how much tension there was in that scene, right after Tariq fired the arrow intending for the Caliph and striking Shahrzad instead. As cheesy as it sounds, I could almost feel the anger stirring in the Caliph and the regret that filled Tariq’s mind. Tariq is seriously such an awesome dude, and in all honesty, I would ABSOLUTELY read a spin-off about him and Yasmine the Sultana. *Insert googly heart eyes here*

Now as for the Caliph himself, I’m conflicted. On one hand, I found his dedication to Shahrzad absolutely heartstopping especially after reading about the origins of his curse and his seriously tragic backstory. On the other hand, I do find him to be somewhat... bland aside from his immense love for the heroine. He’s a hurt boy who’s made lots of mistakes in his past so I guess it makes sense for him to be incredibly detached from his feelings. I think I just wish I saw a little more character development from him, especially by the end of the series. Mostly everything he does throughout pretty much the entire two books are driven by the sole fact that he loves Shahrzad and would rather destroy himself than to hurt her. While it’s implied, I really wished Ahdieh included at least a small blurb in the epilogue about the Caliph’s reconciliation with his former tutor, especially considering the tutor did A LOT for both the Caliph and Shahrzad. Furthermore, I understand the Caliph not wanting to marry Yasmine out of spite for her father but did he really need to be so emotionally detached from her despite her obviously caring about him a lot? Like, did he really need to be so utterly emotionally detached from literally EVERYONE except for Shahrzad? For the entirety of the series?? Hmmm. At least in my head, I envision him as such a hot dude with an amazing physique.

I also wanted to include a short note on Shahrzad’s father. I understand his emotions, his intent, and his motivations for all the shitty things he did (which admittedly are not entirely his fault as he was totally manipulated towards the end of the story). What I do not understand nor do I think will I EVER totally understand is his role at the very end of the story, right before the epilogue. So out of sheer rage over the Caliph destroying his grimoire of dark magic, Shahrzad’s father goes and stabs the Caliph right in the heart, killing him. Then immediately after everyone crowds around the Caliph in despair, he realizes he seriously fucked up and decides to give his life to perform blood magic one more time and give the Caliph his life back? I think I understand why Ahdieh wrote this ending this way, but I can’t help but feel like it came off as kind of lazy, tbh. I felt like she wanted to tie up the loose ends of the story and figured the quickest way to do it would just to have Shahrzad’s father kill himself (and then have Tariq’s uncle be betrayed by his sellswords). Maybe Tariq’s uncle’s end was necessary, but I feel like Shahrzad’s father’s death was lazy writing. I can’t understand why he would’ve needed to die, and if the author had been willing to write a couple more pages of dialogue I think she could’ve wrapped his arc up much better. 

To save my favorite for last, I’m going to end with my thoughts on Despina aka probably my favorite character in the entire series and probably also one of my favorite side-kicks as well. Now, we are told pretty early on that Despina is a spy. Despina never clarifies for whom, so we just immediately assume Shahrzad’s thoughts: Despina’s purpose is to spy on Shahrzad for the Caliph. Turns out that’s only half true. Despina is a spy, yes, but it turns out she’s a spy for the Caliph’s uncle, Sultan of Parthia. And it turns out that the Sultan of Parthia is actually Despina’s biological father. Yes, the woman is half Grecian half Parthian. I can only IMAGINE how beautiful this woman is. Despina is first introduced as Shahrzad’s handmaiden and is pretty awesome in the sense that she’s just always there for Shahrzad. She’s there for her, but she’s also not the Calipha’s bitch. Despina leads everyone else to believe she is a simple handmaiden, but she hides a lot of secrets and motivations. She leads a romance with the Caliph’s cousin, a commander or guard of the military or something (my memory really is that bad, yes). She then goes and disappears in the second book, reappearing during her reintroduction as a PRINCESS of Parthia, to Shahrzad’s horror. For a brief couple of chapters, we all thought Despina betrayed Shahrzad and their friendship but it turns out Despina’s motivations run way deeper than that. No, Despina’s PISSED. She’s pissed because her dad is, quite frankly, a total cunt. And she’s pissed because she’s realized that no matter what she does for him, the Sultan of Parthia will never truly acknowledge her as his daughter the same way he does for Yasmine. And during her many years of servitude to her own father (as a way to earn his love, bleh) she realizes that she doesn’t care about her bloodline and her relationship to royalty. She doesn’t care that she’s actually a Princess of Parthia. Nah, she cares about the family she’s chosen for herself, and that family includes her romance with the Caliph’s cousin and their UNBORN CHILD. Despina’s entire character arc was seriously fabulous, and I would pay stupid money to read an entire spin-off about her life. Seriously. To top it all off, I was really about to drop the second book and leave it unfinished when I thought Despina had betrayed Shahrzad. My heart couldn’t take it. But I’m so glad that wasn’t the case, and I think Ahdieh wrote Despina’s character and journey INCREDIBLY beautifully and despite being a side character, I think she’s probably the most fleshed out and well-done character in the entire series. Case closed.

In conclusion, not a bad series at all. I’m not super critical of books that I read since I think I just have a really low standard. I can tolerate mostly anything aside from truly bad writing (think 50 Shades of Grey levels of bad writing... or fanfiction written by literal tweens with way too much emphasis on love triangles). While I wasn’t the BIGGEST fan of the male love interest, the romance that was shared between him and the heroine was nevertheless still very touching. I love how elegantly Ahdieh wove magical themes into the story, love love love her inclusion of the magic carpet which is probably one of my favorite magical elements from One Thousand and One Nights. Our heroine was strong-minded, kind-hearted, and had a “silver tongue” that I personally loved! God, if only I could spit firey comebacks as quick as she could. So many more middle school arguments would have gone in my favor. And finally Despina... *swoons*. 

[sassysweetstories]

Empress Part 9

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri!Grounder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, crying, angst, swearing, minor smut, fighting,mentions of abuse, blood, gore, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. i realize not all of this is side by side accurate to the show, bare with me. i hope you enjoy!

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317@bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19@violence-and-velvet @lachicadelamanzana @teenwolfbitches2

First P.O.V

I groan in pain, dropping my food supplies as Bellamy growls into my ear. “Traitor.” He hisses like a snake. His grip tightening around my neck and shoulders to keep me contain. “You’ve been seeing a grounder?! Have you been feeding him information, too?!” His grip is too much, too painful it’s getting harder to breathe. I twist his arm and push him as far away from me as I can, pulling out a knife to defend myself. “Bellamy let me explain-” He cuts me off by screaming. “I knew you were a snake! The little princess isn’t so clean, after-all!” My voice is twice the rage he was expecting and it takes both of us by surprise. “MAN, YOU JUST LOVE THE SOUND OF YOUR OWN VOICE, DON’T YOU?! JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN!” Maybe because my hands tremble that he finally silences. Not out of pity but out of something more painful. 

I sigh, “Dimitri. That’s his name. He saved my life one of the earlier nights when we first arrived. I thought he was going to kill me, I was sure of it. But when he didn’t, I realized he was just as curious about me as I was about him. He’s not from Lincoln’s clan. There are more clans all over the world. I have saved his people before and they have protected me. I haven’t told anyone about our plans or our people, I swear to you! Dimitri and I would meet and he taught me things about earth, including the language. I told him stories about the books we read when we were kids and the stars. That’s it.” He never puts his weapon down but his eyes are sad and angry, much like when Octavia confessed about seeing Lincoln. He hates the idea but can’t stop her, even when he tried. “Why were you kissing him?” He gulps down some saliva, not really wanting the answer I provide. “I have feelings for him. Please, Bellamy. I know you hate me-” 

He scoffs, disgusted by the statement. “I don’t hate you.” I dare to lower my weapon, perplexed. An uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as I await for more of an explanation. “I don’t like that you’re right a lot. You actually weren’t half bad.” He pauses for a moment, almost eyeing me with distaste. I know the following statement he makes will break me more than I care to admit, a tinge of regret. “I thought you were more than this. I thought you were better than us, than me. Turns out that’s a lie. Your secret is safe, for now.” A small warning: a threat. Make one wrong move and I will take everything you love away. His posture seems to scream. I had the potential of being friends with Bellamy but I don’t know how he’ll view me now. Maybe as a monster for all I know. I walk a few steps ahead, half expecting him to literally stab me in the back. We melt into the flow of the groups movements. He forces a smile in Octavia’s direction and nods to Clarke. 

I flank Octavia’s side and half expect Bellamy to glare at me in disgust but he looks more disappointed than anything. There’s a pang of guilt in my heart, a feeling I can’t control despite how much I want to. I have no reason to feel the way that I do but still my emotions alter everything and get the best of me. Especially with how much I don’t owe the Ark or my “people” anything. And though my secret is out to him, it is only he who knows about Dimitri. I’m glad nobody else does. Whether he comes out about my secret is a worry for another day. Right now I need to make sure I get my people out and away from this camp. Octavia and I fall into line a few feet away from Bellamy, Clarke and Jasper. “Alright Octavia, is there anything else we need to look forward to if we slip from the grounders?” 

She shook her head, probably glad for the conversation. “Lincoln told me just to get us far away from the first wave of grounder troops. Once we’re away we should be fine.” We walk for another ten minutes until I feel a chill trace up my spine. Both Octavia and Jasper take notice and stop, causing everyone’s movements to cease. “You felt that, too? Didn’t you?” Octavia asks, unsheathing her weapon. She’s becoming better at reading a situation than most. I turn to answer her question when an arrow lodges itself into one of the kids a few bodies away. He dies on impact, falling to the ground instantaneously. We have no time to mourn for another child gone as Jasper banshee shrieks to our people. “GROUNDERS!!! RETREAT!!” 

The arrows and chaos around us make our movements quick. So fast, I don’t even realize we’re already back inside camp grounds. When Raven is in the drop-ship secured, and far from harm, Bellamy and Clarke take the ladder, guns at the ready while the troopers take their mark. “Why aren’t they attacking?” Bellamy asked, frustrated. But Clarke and I already know. “We’re doing exactly what they wanted us to do..” She turned over her shoulder to Octavia, blonde hair whipping as she does so. “The first troop are scouts, right?” The young girl nodded to my right. “We can take them! It’s what Lincoln would do!” Bellamy huffed, clearly more angry than before. “I’m done doing what that stupid grounder would do! We listened to him and it got Drew killed!” So that was the boy that died. The thought makes my stomach churn. 

Finn scoffed, “That grounder saved our lives! I agree with Octavia! For all we know there’s one scout out there!” I nod along, “Me too. If we move fast we’ll slip out but we’re just sitting ducks if we stay.” Bellamy takes my voice in stride, fully prepared to fight even in times like these. “If we don’t fight, we die! You’re a coward!” And though I’m a few inches shorter than him, I don’t back down from the challenge. “Or am I smarter than you, Blake?! We stay, we rot! It’s obvious. If we move, we live another day!” Octavia pushes us apart, more focused on Clarke than our bickering. “Clarke, we can still do this..” I sigh as people look from her and I. Bellamy may have people listening but he doesn’t have their heart and soul. He lifts his chin up, glancing back at Clarke. “Looking to you, princess. Whats it gonna be?” 

When she sighs, I know I’ve lost this battle. “Scouts, more than one. Finn, they’re already here-” Clarke looks back at Bellamy, almost defeated. “Looks like you got your fight-” I cuss under my breath before stalking off to my tent to grab all of my weapons available. Octavia finds me shortly and we make our way towards one of our foxholes. Bellamy grabs her by the arm, muttering something so softly I couldn’t hear it if I tried. I linger, watching the young boy and admiring the camp for what could be my last time. We did pretty well. When she returns to me, I can’t help but smile a little. She looks so strong standing by herself. When I look back at Bellamy, I notice he’s already looking directly at me. His gaze is different from before. Almost like they’re full of longing. 

When he’s not being a total ass, he’s quite handsome. Instead of following Octavia, I draw closer to him. “I think this is a stupid plan and I’m sure you’re acting out cause of fear but you’re not half bad, Blake.” I say, stretching out my hand for him to take. Hesitantly, he grasps my palm. His warmth sends chills down my spine. Bellamy doesn’t pull away. “We’re both gonna live.” I snicker at the crude comment, pulling away before asking, “What makes you think so?” He laughs for the first time despite the situation. “Cause we’re both arrogant and headstrong.” I smile wide at the honest joke before following his sister. My grin falters the further I walk, mumbling. “I sure hope you’re right, Bellamy..” 

Octavia leaves shortly and with one quick glance, I know she’ll be okay. Though I am not armed with a gun, I still feel safe in the dark of the foxholes. They hoot at the movements but I don’t see anything fall. Bellamy comes tumbling into the makeshift hole. “Don’t shoot! We’re wasting bullets! Where’s Octavia?!” He turns to me. With one glance, I reassure him but tread lightly nonetheless. He holds valuable information that could be my downfall. “She’s okay, Bellamy.” Our radio com starts to explode suddenly. “THEY’RE EVERYWHERE!” For the first time in a long time, my hands begun to tremble and heart beat quicken with fear. I can’t think of the worst outcome. I won’t gain anything from making myself anxious. I make my way over to the other side of the camp, running past some of the kids who duck in fear. 

Bellamy follows close by, almost on my tail when a large mass smacks the Blake boy down to the ground. Quickly, I turn around and stand between him and the grounder that’s slipped through. Before he could attack, a large sword ran straight through his chest. Octavia stands over the body with a coy smile. “You see that, big brother?” He laughs lightly before both our expressions fall. An arrow slashes her shoulder and Octavia falls into my arms. I don’t know when Lincoln arrives but I’m nothing short from relieved when I see him.  I can take care of her but we have to go now.” He says softly, urgency in his tone. I watch Bellamy struggle to let his baby sister go. I put my hand on his cheek and nod. “Go. Take care of her.” I can see the broken expression on his face as he watches his sister leave with a stranger. 

Once they’re out of sight, we walk off towards the fence. “HOLD THE LINE!!” Clarke screams to the gunmen trembling at their posts. I glance through the peephole and gasp. They’ve broke the first of our defense. A few bodies lay on the dirt, unidentifiable. Clarke comes out from the drop-ship again, dripping with sweat and stress. “Those who don’t have guns, make your way into the drop-ship! Jasper’s done it!” They move quickly with panicked faces. This is the end of the camp, I can feel it. I take a deep breath and prepare for the wall to break. The walls; our protection system crumbles and the grounders swarm in, one after another. They never seem to stop. There are at least twenty grounders blocking us from the safety inside the drop-ship. 

I do my best to protect Bellamy and myself from the men that run towards us. One hits him hard and I’m forced to protect both sides of the conflict. As he falls, Finn comes out from behind, shooting and knocking more men out of the way. I pull Bellamy up to Finn’s side. They stumble and fight while Clarke gets as much of our people into the drop-ship as she can before closing it. All of a sudden, I’m thrown down to the ground, slipping and falling down the hill. Sticks, rocks and dirt collide with my skin, roughly tearing me into two before I come to a rough stop. My forehead feels wet while my temple aches and throbs against my cranium. With wobbly feet, I stand, putting the majority of my weight onto the nearest tree. All I can feel is throbbing pain. I’m so tired. Despite my body screaming for release, I pull out the last weapon I have and attempt to stand, shifting from foot to foot. The black mass grows into two and then three as my vision beings to blur. Suddenly, everything goes dark. 

(I hope you guys liked it! Please comment below!) 

[angellightwood-bane-blog]

What Lurks In The Dark // Alec Lightwood X OC

disclaimer - Chapters one - two - three - four - five

Chapter Six - Vampires and Blood 

The door burst open and I instantly took the first one out with a flick of my wrist, a knife buried itself in the chest of the vampire. Quickly, Isabelle took out the next one with her whip, while Alec loaded his bow. My seraph blade found its way into the stomach of a vampire coming for Isabelle and Alec shot one as it came through the door.  The next one that came after me had a weapon of its own. He swung the club at me and I easily met it with my blade, blocking his attack. He threw himself forwards into his next strike and I used his own weight to deflect his hit and throw him off balance. Unfortunately, on his way down, he took out my legs and brought me down with him. He was the first to recover and came down on top of me, brandishing his weapon. I focused all my energy into my legs and kicked him off with an enormous effort. Jumping back up to my feet, I lifted my blade to block the oncoming blow. Before I had time to react he had swiped at my face cutting a deep line down my left cheek, eyebrow to chin. I grunted but refused to allow myself to lose focus, knowing I would die if I did. Channelling my pain and turning it into anger, I let it pulse through me. With a newfound strength, I ducked his swing at my head and drove my seraph blade through his heart.  I had no time to celebrate my victory as I saw Jace and Clary sneak past while more vampires flooded the room. My face was stinging, and I felt blood gushing down my cheek, but I gritted my teeth and carried on. Another one was coming straight for me but before it was even within arm’s reach, an arrow whistled past my head, and the attacker was dust. I didn't have time to react to it before two more came at me. I snapped my belt into a Bo staff and impaled both vampires in one hit. Turning back around, I saw Alec about to shoot a vampire heading for Isabelle, not noticing the one right behind him.  

"Alec!" I threw myself forwards, seraph blade outstretched, successfully disintegrating the vampire behind him, but as soon as it turned to dust, an even larger male vampire appeared in front of me at an unearthly speed. Before I could even comprehend his presence, I heard Isabelle scream as he drove his own sword straight into my stomach and in a matter of milliseconds, I was shoved chest first into the wall on the other side of the room, so hard that the concrete split. My head crashed against it and felt my ribs crack inwards at the force of the blow. Blood dripped from my nose and down my chin, but I hardly had the energy to wipe it away.  

"Breeanna no!" Isabelle cried, and Alec dealt with the two remain vampires before they both rushed over to me. Alec pressed a hand over my stomach in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. They tried to help me up, but I pushed them both off angrily,

"Get off me."  

"Bre now isn't the time, you're seriously injured, and you need our help," Alec pleaded with me.  

"No, you don't want to help, your life would be so much easier without me here. That's what you think yeah? You'd prefer it if I just died wouldn't you," I coughed, heaving myself up. I tried tracing the healing rune Alec had drawn on me at the City of Bones, but it wasn't doing anything. I stumbled forwards and Isabelle tried to steady me, but I pulled away with a,

"Don't touch me." I collected my weapons and moved on, holding my hand over my stab wound, applying as much pressure as I could. Feeling like my lungs were flooded, I was having extreme difficulty breathing by the time we rounded the corner straight into another fight scene. Jace was fighting two against one while Clary managed to get herself in a chokehold by a third.  Alec reacted immediately, aiming at the vampire, but the Downworlder held Clary in front of him like a shield.  

"Okay," Alec smirked, and instead shot the arrow at the wall, allowing a beam of sunlight to flood in and burn the vampire, releasing Clary. Clary then moved to fight one of the others and stabbed him, while Jace sliced his in half, both successfully disintegrating their opponents. Clary look stunned because she managed to kill one and Jace looked at her with pride.  

"I killed him," she stammered,

“He was already dead," Jace replied.  Isabelle walked forwards and offered,

"Plus, he wanted to kill you. Remember that." Then she looked at Jace with a grin,

"She did great, right?"  Jace looked back at Clary with a smile,

"Yeah, you did. You should be proud."  I threw my hands up in the air out of exasperation.

"Yeah great job you killed one Clary, fantastic, can we go find Simon now?" I somehow wheezed out. I could now taste blood and was feeling very lightheaded.  Jace's eyes widened as he saw me. He dropped his seraph blade and it clattered to the ground, forgotten as the blonde raced to my side.

"Are you okay?" I grit my teeth and shook my head,

"Simon, we have to find Simon," I insisted. Jace reluctantly left my side and led the way forwards, throwing worried glances at me over his shoulder. We quickly located Simon and found him in the clutches of a vampire, with a knife to his throat.  

"Simon!" Clary went to run forward but Jace caught her before she'd made it two steps.  

"Clary! That's not gonna do any good," He warned, keeping a tight grip on my sister's jacket.  

"Listen to him, Clary Fairchild. Put it away," The vampire demanded, referring to the seraph blade in Clary's hand,

"I've had more than enough of your friend for one day. I'd love to cut his throat - don't give me a reason. Put it away!"  Clary lowered the blade and took a cautious step forward, talking to Simon as if he wasn't being held with a knife to his throat.

"Simon, are you, all right?"  Ever sarcastic Simon replied,

"I wouldn't say all right-” The vampire had had enough.

"Stop talking! Now if you would all just follow me. Let's go! Come on, let's go! Up here now!" He led us through a corridor as I staggered after everybody and we seemed to be ascending.

"That’s right get down there now! Get down there or I'll kill him right now!" I tripped and fell onto the damp stone flooring, sprawled out on my hands and knees, grazing my palms and tearing the skin on my knee. I scrambled up and felt the almost unbearable pain in my stomach starting to spread.  My hearing had gone fuzzy and everybody's voices sounded distant. I only caught snippets of what was being said as I crashed into the walls, desperately trying to keep up with the others.  

"Get out!"  

"Not without Simon..."  

"This is about Valentine..."  

"Take him..."  I thought I saw a Simon-shaped figure being thrust forwards towards the bright red splurge that was probably my sister. Black dots were clouding my vision and suddenly we all spilled out into the sunlight on the roof. I could still hear ringing voices that sounded a lot like my sister.  

"Oh my God. Oh my God, it's over. It's actually over." I fell to my hands and knees, coughing and wheezing. Looking down I could see red liquid spattered on the concrete in front of me and it took my hazy mind a minute to recognise it as blood - my blood.  

"Oh my god, Bre!" Jace's frantic yelling pulled my line of vision up to him and saw him, Alec and Isabelle racing over to me.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded. His tone was scary, and I'd never heard him use it before. It was full of a mixture of rage and worry.  

"She killed a vampire that snuck up on Alec but another one got her. He stabbed her and threw her clear across the room, he hit her so hard she cracked the concrete!" Isabelle's upset voice sounded like a faraway whisper to me now.  

"She saved your life?" he turned to Alec with a frightening glare,

"Even after the way you treated her," He spat. He turned back to me,

"It’s okay Bre, it’s gonna be okay, I'm gonna help you, we're gonna get you some help." He pulled one of my arms around his shoulders and pulled me up to a standing position, taking nearly all my weight for me. I took a sharp intake of breath as my stomach stretched and I slumped over, trying to ease the pain.

"Alec! Help me!" Jace cried, but as soon as Alec took a step towards us I shook my head.  

"Not... him..." I choked, blood trickling from my mouth. I couldn't think straight, and my logic had disappeared, replaced by anger towards the Lightwoods. Jace looked understandably confused - he wasn't in the tunnel with us when I'd snapped, but before questions could be asked, Simon rushed forwards.  

"I got her, I got her, let’s go," He said, pulling my other arm round his shoulders.  I could barely take a step and I couldn't keep my head up, so I let it hang down, lolling about carelessly, barely keeping myself conscious as the boys practically dragged me.  I saw the horrified looks everyone’s faces. Blood trickled down the left side of my face now covering it, courtesy of the gash the first vampire had given me with. The red liquid had also stained the entirety of my chin and was still freely flowing down my mouth and nose. But my stomach, my stomach looked dreadful. The wound was visible through the rip in my shirt; a large hole expelling waves of thick, dark blood.  Jace threw another glare at Alec,

"Changed your mind about her yet?" He didn't wait for an answer, shaking his head and instead focused on dragging me back to the Institute, promising to help me, if I could just stay awake for him. I coughed again, blood dribbling down my chin, staining my shirt, and I saw everybody wince, knowing they couldn't do anything to make it stop.  

"Stay with me Bre, come on," Simon's voice echoed from somewhere nearby.  

"We're nearly there, come on, you can do it, don't do this to me Bre, come on" Jace's voice resonated distantly. I could see the blurry outline of a building that looked vaguely like the Institute and I willed myself to hang on a bit longer. I physically couldn't lift my feet, so I was dragged like a rag doll, up the steps and towards the doors of the church, my feet catching on the stone. Blood was still gushing profusely from my nose and mouth and I was very quickly choking on my own fluids. Alec and Isabelle barged through the doors, Clary holding them open for us while Alec yelled at anybody who was there,

"We need help! Quickly!"

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Sorry for not posting.

School sucks.

Hope you enjoy my lovelies.

-Angel

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

Welp, the ask vanished for some reason but here’s the answer to @liiriiel​‘s ask for the angst prompt. Number 93; “Wake Up!”

Fire. Screaming. Roaring. Gunshots.

An Atlas student was torn to pieces. The world watched and listened as a mysterious woman delivered a chilling message. Then everything descended into chaos.

“Guys, we have to get to the airships, we can't beat them!” Kurro called over his shoulders he narrowly dodged the lunge of a Creep before turning and slashing at it with what was left of his strength, slicing the beast in two and disintegrating it. The Faunus hissed in a bit of pain, his empty hand clutching his shoulder which was bleeding profusely, he had been jumped by White Fang members and was very close to collapsing and passing out from blood loss.

“WAIT! Where’s Rayli?!” Thorn began to panic more than she already was, frantically looking for her best friend. Her heart was already thundering in her chest in pure panic at all the fire and Grimm, she was a second from having a complete and utter breakdown, but she pushed that down when she realized her small friend was not with them.

“She can handle herself Thorn, she knows to get to the Airships. I know you don't want to leave her but we have no choice, I can't fight, Adrian’s Semblance could kill us at any moment!” Kurro turned to Thorn, a panicked and pained expression on his face. A look of horror crossed Thorn’s features in response to that.

“YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE HER TO DIE?!” Thorn practically screamed in complete and utter enragement, her entire body shaking at this point, her voice shook too.

“Thorn that’s not what I-” Kurro was cut off by Thorn muscling past him, racing off into the imminent danger they had just narrowly escaped.

She could hear Adrian calling out to her, but she didn't care. All that mattered was finding Rayli and making sure she was safe. That’s what she kept trying to tell her frantic mind, anyways.

Tears streamed down Thorn’s face as she raced through the place, trying to keep the whimpers rising in her throat at bay. 

This was straight out of her nightmares. 

Fire, Grimm, and someone missing. This nightmare always played out with fire consuming everything, with the monster of her nightmares devouring everything. She could almost hear its shrieks now, but she had to remind herself that noise wasn’t the beast she knew, it was a Wyvren. Not much better, but not the creature that haunted her. This wasn’t a nightmare, this wasn’t some cruel trick of her subconscious. This was reality. This is reality.

Crystal blue orbs darted around the ruined courtyard, past the corpses, past the several red eyes gleaming at her, past the Faunus clad in the cloaks of the White Fang-

“THORN?!” Thorn was taken aback by the sound of familiar shouting, crying out her name.

“RAYLI!” Thorn sprinted towards the cry, paying no mind to the Grimm starting to chase her, most likely smelling the terror coursing through her.

“THORN!” Rayli cried out in relief. Thorn could see her now, she had an Ursa Major on her tail, it painfully clear that her Aura shield had broken long ago due to the scrapes and bruises littering her body. She had no defense. She could die. She could d i e.

“RAYLI!” Thorn screamed in panic, sprinting with all she had in her to reach the girl, raising her weapon to start shooting at the beast behind her. This exact scenario had repeated in her mind for years. She wasn’t going to let it become a reality.

The shot made a direct hit, the beast roaring angrily and turning its attention to the blonde racing towards it, ignoring Rayli entirely.

“RAYLI, DUCK!” Thorn called out as she reached her and the Ursa. Rayli obeyed and dived for the ground just in time for Thorn to leap over her, weapons at the ready. With both blades slicing inwards, she brought them against the beasts neck, slicing it off with ease and reducing the threat to black smoke.

The blonde caught her footing with some difficulty, rolling a bit but sticking the landing. Thorn slowly rose to her feet, turning to the smaller girl who was trembling slightly on the ground. With a wobbly step, Thorn tried to make her way to Rayli. Her limbs felt leaden, the adrenaline that had been keeping her together was subsiding now that Rayli wasn’t in immediate danger and she was very close to unraveling at this point.

“A-Are you okay?” Thorn barely manage to choke out. Her voice cracked a bit, it was shaky, it was terrified. Rayli slowly raised her head, her eyes locking onto Thorn’s. She blinked slowly in a bit of shock, getting to her feet.

“...A-Are you?” Rayli asked with concern clear on her face. Thorn’s only reply was hastily wiping her eyes with her sleeve and turning away.

“W-We need to get to the airships, K-Kurro and Adrian are heading there.” Thorn deflected the question. This wasn’t the time or place to delve into this unfortunate part of her.

“...H-How are we gonna get there, Thorn? I’m out of aura and arrows.” Rayli clutched her bow a bit more tightly, deciding not to pry during the dire situation they’re all in.

“J-Just stay behind m-me, we’ll make a r-run for it.” Thorn tried to regain some semblance of control over her own voice, but alas, it was still weak and shaky….

And so the two made their way towards the airships, Thorn doing her best to protect Rayli despite the chaos taking a severe toll on her mental state and making her movements not as precise as they usually were. Rayli had split her bow into its dagger form, trying to make sure they weren’t struck from behind.

“H-How much farther?” Rayli panted out, starting to falter under the exhaustion combined with the stabbing pain of her broken Aura.

“Not far, we’re almost there!” Thorn cried out, her arms aching, “...I-I don’t see Kurro and Adrian though..”

“...W-We can’t go back for them, we won’t make it.”  Rayli spoke as calmly possible. As awful as it was, she knew they absolutely couldn’t go find them, they were barely able to keep the Grimm at bay anymore, she knew they couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Kurro would g-give us an earful if w-we got ourselves hurt g-going after him…” Thorn muttered, unclear on which of them she's trying to convince.

“...L-Let’s go.” Rayli started towards the airships again. Thorn moved to keep in front of her as before, her movements stiff and pained.

As the amount of Grimm attacking them gradually grew, so did Thorn’s panic. She knew her limit and she was almost at it, her Aura was almost completely depleted, and the second that happened they'd be sitting ducks-

“GUYS!”

The two snapped their attention towards the cry, only to see Adrian racing over. “KURRO’S ON THE SHIP, WE GOTTA GO!”

Thorn felt relief flood her being, starting to rush over with Rayli in toe. With her attention on Adrian, she didn't notice the shadow approaching from above.

“LOOK OUT!” Rayli shoved Thorn out of the way. Thorn hit the dirt, grunting from the impact. she turned her head towards her friend just in time to see a massive clawed hand rip into her torso, the girl letting out an anguished scream before collapsing to the ground.

“RAYLI!” Adrian cried out. Thorn turned towards the sound, then felt complete horror shoot through her. His Semblance was activating.

“ADRIAN GET BACK!” Thorn shouted, getting up and rushing to push Adrian away from the prone Rayli. Her shove was a bit too hard and they went toppling.

Thorn looked Adrian right in the eye as his body started to become covered in fire. She could already feel the flames starting to lap at her skin and burn her.

The last thing she saw was the boy flash a blinding white light before her vision went dark.

Screaming. Pain. Those were the two things in Thorn’s world right now. She laid on the ground, clutching her eyes and letting out primal cries of pure pain. Burning, everything burning. Pain.

Rayli struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, eyes Darting towards her friend who was currently on the ground and clutching her eyes. Burns had eaten away at her clothes, angry red marks of ruined flesh covered her. The screams… The screams. Rayli could live a hundred years and never forget those screams.

Adrian had scrambled to his feet, eyes impossibly wide in shock and horror as he looked at what he had just done. Horrid images filled his mind, images of a scorched ballroom, of the screams, of blood everywhere, of the carnage he had caused. It happened again.

With a cry Adrian ran away from both his teammates and the airship, right into the fray. He couldn't bear it anymore. He wanted it to end.

Thorn’s screams had gone silent, her body had gone completely limp. Rayli scrambled over to her friend, ignoring her own searing pain. Tears welled up in her eyes as strangled sobs spilled from her lips, grabbing Thorn’s shoulders. There was only one thing she could think of saying. The only two words she could force through her hysterical sobbing.

“WAKE UP!”

No response.

“OPEN YOUR EYES! PLEASE!”

No response.

“PLEASE!” Rayli cried out desperately, her voice scratchy and almost guttural, filled with immense desperation.

Grimm were surrounding them now, they smelled the chaos of negative emotions coming from the girl. Rayli looked up, tears blurring her vision. She could see the glowing red and not much else…

“GET AWAY!” Rayli screamed at the beasts, her voice filled with rage and malice. It was their fault, all their fault.  Rayli grabbed one of Thorn’s weapons along with her own, shakily rising to her feet.

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU ALL!” Rayli shrieked, her entire body shaking with anger. Everything she had been feeling, all that panic, terror, profound sadness, grief, pain… It all had turned into complete and utter rage. Never in her life had she felt an emotion so strongly.

The girl got into a fighting stance, ready to fight even though deep down she knew she couldn’t win. She would die. But that didn’t matter. She just needed to keep Thorn safe. That’s all that mattered right now.

Suddenly the Grimm snapped their heads away from Rayli, towards the tower at the top of Beacon. The only thing that would make the Grimm forget about her is if there was someone feeling even stronger negative emotions than her… The girl snapped her head to look at what had caught their attention, all she could see was the top of the tower had broken down and there was a flash of red running up the side of the building, rushing across what looked like glowing white dots.

The Grimm started rushing past her, past Thorn, completely ignoring both girls. A small grunt caught Rayli’s attention, eyes darting over to her prone friend. Thorn had twitched slightly. Rayli let out a shaky breath, dropping the weapons. They were safe, for now. Thorn was alive. Hurt, but alive.

“PYRRHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Rayli jolted, snapping her gaze up to the tower only for her eyes to widen, a bright light like a beacon was bursting forth from the remnants of Beacon tower and expanding fast. It washed over the Grimm, and each and every one disintegrated. Not giving a second thought, Rayli threw herself over Thorn’s prone body, hoping to shield her from whatever had just killed so many Grimm. The light quickly crept closer to where the two were laid, making Rayli tighten her protective embrace as she braced for impact.

The light washed over them, forcing Rayli to squeeze her eyes shu-

Rayli screamed out in pain, it felt like her head was splitting open. Flashes of that night danced through her vision, the red eyes, the claws reaching for her head, the stabbing pain, all of it-

Just like that, it was gone. The pain vanished. The weight on her mind vanished.

And then everything went black.

[firexfled]

Fell Childen (part 1/???)

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 6:53 PM

Prolouge: Son of Grima

How long has it been since the world fell into ruins? Days? Months? Years? It's been so long, I can't keep track. I can't even remember how long it has been since I got to see my mother alive. Ever since they announced her death, I had a feeling in my chest... Like no other. As if... She was still alive. They never found her body, so they presumed she died. As for Chrom, the past Exhalt, he was found dead. His body brought back. I remember seeing Lucina in tears. Holding her father's sword close to her. She was mourning, and had something that was close to her. As for me, I never did mourn. Sure, I did cry a little... I lied, it was a lot. Most of the time was before sleeping. Others was during study. As the years went by and the world continued to go into ruin even more by the fell dragon, Grima, we continued to fight harder for peace. One by one, our friends familes started to get slaughtered... Only leaving us children to defend our world. Lucina, the future exhalt, led the battle. As for me, I was their general tactician. I say "was" for a reason... A dark reason that I regret to this very day...

Some nights, I had these strange dreams. Dreams of seeing my mother, but... She wasn't like herself. She told me what and who I was. That in truth, I am the son of not only the greatest tactician, Robin... But I am also the son... of Grima. I continued to refuse the truth. But then when I look at the top of my right hand, it does look a lot like my mother's hand. If that is the case, then mother... Is mother really the fell dragon herself? In order to find out the truth behind everything, she gave me an option. One that I will always regret choosing. One is that I join her side and she would tell me everything I would want to know... Or that soon my body would be taken over by the fell blood and try to force me to commit homicide against one of my friends. As soon as I heard my options, I shoot up... As if I was an arrow let loose from it's bow and string. My heart was racing as I was trying to process everything. After a few days, I have decided... I packed up all my stuff... and fled in the middle of the night. And soon before I knew it, there I was, standing on the cliff, facing the six-eyed dragon, Grima... Those red eyes were burned into my memory, sending chills down my spine. And this is when I knew, at this very moment...

I am the son of Grima

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:05 PM

Chapter 1: One and the Same

After weeks of working for mother, Grima, I've gotten quite use to the surroundings of me. Even though it was pretty... Dark. But not all the time was it dark. It's actually quite interesting when you are done for the day or when you find a rest in breaks. Why? It's because I get to interact with someone very close to me. Her name is Morgan.(edited)

When I arrived, I met a perculiar firgure. The same size, height, attire, exactly like me... Except when the hood lowered, it was a female face. One that almost looks a lot like mine. Though her hair was quite messy and a bit longer, we practically looked as if we were twins. Grima explained to me that her name was also Morgan, and that she is the same as me... Well, not entirely. Different personalities, that is for sure. And we were differemt genders, as if we were part of a pararell dimension. But even so, she has that... glow around her. And it's like... One day I would be depressed, then she would cheer me up. And when she's depressed, I would cheer her up.

After talking with her, it turns out she used to have a father named Robin as well. Same name as my mother. I bet they both would look very similar, heh. We also talked much about our pasts. The same people we met, same situations, just different... Interactions. It was all very interesting. After a while, we made a promise. Even though we are not related by blood, we will look after each other's backs, no matter how big or small the situation gets. And to myself...

I promise to protect her

Chapter 2: Silence and Darkness

Today, me and Morgan was sent to stop the future children... More likely kill them. What choice did we have? Either way, they have to die... Right? Well... We were wrong. All that time of studying and planning our ambush and attack on them.... was all for nothing, as we failed

Now standing next to Morgan, head down as we stood in front of the throne room, where Grima sat at, my body trembled on the inside, my heart racing. Gods, I continued to think "This is it. This is where we die." I look over to Morgan to see her trembling as well, and I reached my hand out to hold hers, squeezing it lightly, whispering "It's gonna be okay. I'm here with you" I hope that would calm her down

Grima - Today at 7:23 PM

One job, one job! That's all these damn brats were given, yet they failed. The other brats live on! and here are these failures, with their heads bowed, right in front of me. "I am very disappointed in you two." My voice leaves my throat like a growl, and I narrow my eyes at the failures. "You were supposed to kill those damn kids, yet reports say that they are all still alive, why is that?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:25 PM

As I heard her voice, my heart began to race faster and faster. My head, still not looking up at the fell god.

Grima - Today at 7:30 PM

"Answer me, worms, now!" I growl again, glaring at these pathetic useless lumps of flesh. They should be better than this! they have my blood flowing through their veins! Ah, the girl finally looked up, her eyes meeting mine, but there wasn't fear in those brown orbs, oh no, she seemed very, very calm. The words that leaves her lips nearly set me into a rage! "If you want them dead so badly, why don't you kill them yourself?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:33 PM

"M-Morgan!" What the hell is she thinking?! Talking to Grima like that. Oh gods, she could be killed in an instant "What are you doing?!" I whisper to her "You realize what you just said?"

Grima - Today at 7:35 PM

I flicker my eyes over to the boy as he leans over and whispers into the girls ear, he was too quiet for me to make out any words, but I notice that the girl's lips start forming a smile as she whispers something back. What ever they are saying, I have a feeling that it would only make me want to burn them even more.

(Morgan's words: Don't worry, Marc~ I have a plan~)

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:38 PM

Wait, what plan is she talking about?! Did I miss something along the way? No, I know we never discussed anything about a plan. I shake my head, worried that we both might get killed together

Grima - Today at 7:41 PM

"You have quite the bite, young lady, I am afraid that I might have to cut that tongue of yours out~ or maybe rip your vocal cords from your throat?" I let out a dark chuckle, of course I would enjoy that very much, watching her bleed, and not being able to scream~ gods, just the thought of it makes me feel so alive!

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:44 PM

"No! Please don't!" I screamed out, quickly covering my mouth from my outburst. Gods, now I'M gonna probably get killed. Morgan, whatever plan you have, I have a bad feeling about it, at this rate.

Grima - Today at 7:51 PM

I glare at the boy, and snap my fingers, risen appearing and holding the boy down. And then I return my gaze back to the girl, and stand from my seat, my boots echoing against the floor. A slander hand grabs the girls chin, lifting it up, as I smile, before digging right into her throat, with my bare hand. My finger's grasping the very thing that allows the girl to make noise, and ripping it right out, there was a tearing sound, and a gurgle, I drop the removed pieces, and then turn and sit back on my chair. "...Make sure that she doesn't die of that wound, she still has use, after all~" I say to another risen, watching as it drags the girl out of the room, a trail of blood left where she was minutes before.

Turning my attention back to the boy, I grin widely. "Now, what should your punishment be~?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:54 PM

I try to get up to go after her. Gods, why did this have to happen? It's all my fault. I should have been more throughly with the planning and traps. "Why? Why did you do that? Let me go! I have to see her! She needs me!"

Grima - Today at 7:56 PM

"Now, now, darling~ Be a dear and be quiet for mommy, alright~?" I lick at the mess on my hand, as I think of what I should do to this boy. "Let me see here... how about I cut a finger or two off? perhaps a whole hand? hmm... decisions, decisions~"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 8:08 PM

Oh gods, what is she saying? No, if that happens, I won't be able to fight like I use to. Mother, I need mother. Gods, think, Morgan, think think think. "Mother... Please... She had nothing to do with the loss! It was me... I didn't... I didn't check it all! I was the one who messed up! Please..." I cried, staring at the ground before closing my eyes tightly. Just let me go, please, I continue to think over in my head... Until I heard her voice....

Grima - Today at 8:15 PM

I suddenly get an idea. "You said you want to see her, right?" I motion a risen over to me, and then whisper into it's ear. The risen leaves, and comes back with a small blade, I take the blade, and stand up once more, walking up to the boy, and stabbing his eyes. "You better scream for me, dear~ I want to hear your misery and pain~" I whisper, as I hand the blade back to the risen. "Take him away, their punishments are over."

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 8:53 PM

Before I could process all she had said, I scream out in agony and pain as I felt the sharp blade piercing my eyes. I could feel the oozing warm liquid flowing down my cheeks. At this rate, I was wanting to die. But I didn't, just the pain and darkness that surounds me. All I could do was call out "Mother! Mother! Please! Mother!" I called out to the darkness, reaching my hands out

"Mother! Where are you?! Please!"

Grima - Today at 8:59 PM

I can hear his cries, and I just close my teary eyes myself, wanting to comfort him... but I can't... moving is too painful right now, the wound on my neck is excruciating. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs, but I can't, i can't even whimper, no noise comes out. So I am stuck here, in pain, and having to listen to the other suffer...

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 9:00 PM

And just like that... There was only silence... And darkness...

Chapter 4: Comfort Touch

I guess I fell to sleep, though I can't see. Only images I have previously seen was in my head. That was it, nothing but a sea of darkness. But where am I? "Hello?" I try to call out "Hello? Anyone there?" I try to stand up, only to fall back down. I reach my hand up to touch my eyes, only to feel a cloth that has replaced my open wounded eye flesh. I began to cry, which made the pain even worse, which made me cry even more. I never asked for anything like this. All I wanted was a normal life with a normal family... To live with mother and father... Happily... "Why... Please... Somebody... Anyone... Please!" I cry out once more

Grima - Today at 9:08 PM

I reach my hand to his, listening to his cries is painful... so very painful... I look at him from the corner of my eye, knowing that moving my head would be too painful. I want to tell him soothing words, but I can't, it's not fair!

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 9:12 PM

"W-who's there? Who are you? I can't see... Morgan? Morgan?" I tear up, remembering what had happened to her. The pain and sufferinf she has gone through. I failed her. I couldn't protect her. Only feel her touch my hand, I cry into it "Morgan, I'm so so sorry... I failed... I failed... I broke my promise.... I failed, I'm so sorry...." I cried. Gods, I'm so pathetic. Why does she have to be the one to go through pain? She's done nothing wrong! Morgan, please tell me you can hear me...

[woonietune]

Whose fault was it that Woon killed himself?

Although I believe they’re not, the reasons seem to be a series of misunderstandings and the fucked-up destiny that Dong-soo didn’t believe in---the gisaeng who was only trying to protect Woon (someone she didn’t understand and whose love for his friends she probably resented), the assassins of Heuksa Chorong who were trying to kill the man (Cho-rip) who they believed was trying to kill their beloved boss, and then Dong-soo not showing up in time. Dong soo, who wanted to protect everyone and who believed in the letter of justice--remember he chided Woonie for trying to kill Hong when everyone knew Hong was the cause of everything--yes, killing Hong would have made Woon get in serious trouble but it was a short-cut to saving hundreds of lives? Dong-soo was all about protecting people, but he also believed in Woon, believed everything he said, and he was fresh from Cho-rip telling him just that. He believed Woon’s lie about hurting Cho-rip.  Dong-soo, in his innocence and faith in Woon, only contradicted Woon on the point of destiny not being real and always was supportive of Woon--he never contradicted Woon when Woon listed his own sins. Even when Woon perpetuated Chun’s pattern of lying--such as taking the blame for killing the boys camp commander and Crown Prince Sado, when Dong-soo had seen Chun kill the former with his own eyes and even said on the spot at Crown Prince Sado’s murder to Chun “so you’re the one responsible for this.” Dong-soo knew who was truly behind all the evil at Heuksa Chorong. He knew... and yet could not kill Chun when given the chance to fight him. Dong-soo was young; I don’t blame him--he was the best swordsman in all Joseon, but had he truly mastered the Living Sword? There was so much he didn’t know-and he didn’t know because Woon hadn’t told him. If Woon had only told him half his story, would Dong-soo have killed Chun the night of that fight? Even Gwang-taek had regrets about not killing sometimes

I’m not sure of the extent of Dong-soo’s unwillingness to kill, but we all saw what Dong-soo did in order to save the Prince Heir (try to cut off Woon’s own head in that spectacular stunt when Woon leans back on his horse in that fake attempt to kill the Prince Heir) and all he did to protect Ji-sun; Dong-soo was learning the power of his own sword, Had the matter involved Woon, had the matter involved knowing the extent to which Chun had played in manipulating Woon, would Dong-soo have dealt a fatal blow?  I’m still not sure. It may not have been in Dong-soo’s character; even in the series final battle, Dong-soo could not muster the courage to stab Woon, who presented a good argument for Dong-soo’s doing so--and called himself a state criminal. And in any event, Dong-soo’s killing Chun would not have worked in the tragic narrative the script was trying to tell....

Yes, it was after that fight that Woon rushed Dong-soo and gave him his best shot---tried to kill him in a scene that surprised everyone. IF DONG-SOO COULD NOT DO HIS JOB then after that riveting scene where Dong-soo effectively blocks Woon’s blade, Woon would kill Chun. He said he would become an assassin. It was the only time in the entire series he was fully committed to becoming one. Because who did he have to kill? His own abuser, the person who had abused Ji-sun, killed Woon’s own father, and DESPITE his apparent admitting his own sins to Woon, was still guilty. And what had Chun told Woon long ago? In order to become an assassin, one must kill one’s most beloved person. So Dong-soo rushed Woon with “my best move”--and yes, he probably knew Dong-soo would block it, but he needed to do it. And he held onto Dong-soo  longer than he needed to, in what to audiences was a clear embrace, and whispered words into his ear that in what for all intents and purposes was a lover-like gesture (argue that and much of PanAsia will argue back). Woon’s most precious person was Dong-soo.

When Woon was on his knees after delivering a fatal blow to Chun, who did Woon say he would give up being an assassin for? For whom would Woon change his life? Not Ji-sun (he had told Hong “that woman’s life is my life,” and Hong had promptly called out that lie). Not Chun himself, although Chun had told Woon twice not to follow his path of woe and killing--ha, Chun’s programming Woon was too deep, as I’ll explain later. Woon was on his knees, swearing he would change his life, and he did. He did keep his promise that he would throw away the life of an assassin.  “I will forsake it all, Dong-soo-yah.” Woon changed his life for Dong-soo.

Not that Woon had ever done a very good job of being an assassin. He’d merely identified as one, accepted the position as one, and allowed others to believe he was one. He did carry out assassin assignments, but he’d tried to heal the first people he’d been assigned to kill and had tried to protect so many others along the way. He didn’t like the job and said as much that he wanted to return to live with Dong-soo. But he’d faithfully remained a servant of Heuksa Chorong when he could’ve easily escaped under Gwang-taek or Dong-soo’s protection. He believed that he couldn’t leave--he bought that lie, hook, line and sinker from Chun, and he would not let anyone else protect him.

It was Woon who fought to protect himself (he never allowed Dong-soo, for all those proclamations of protection, to save him), and it was Woon, whose political machinations, in a match for Dong-soo’s physical strength, helped stopped the internal political coup against the Prince Heir that fateful historical day. Woon redeemed himself. As it should have been. That’s what makes a hero. Woon was never a simpering maiden like Ji-sun (who I disliked---Jin-joo fought for herself and saved Dong-soo and others countless times--it bothers me that both women in the script wielded weapons but both were discouraged against fighting and the former was even denied emotional independence from Dong-soo). I can’t blame Dong-soo for not saving Woon. That job was supposed to be Woon’s if Woon was ever to be a truly redeemed and healthy person.

And even after Dong-soo’s speech on the wharf, where Dong-soo had said there is no destiny, after he had convinced Ji-sun that one makes one’s own destiny, and had told Woon “I don’t bow to destiny like you,” Dong-soo did not protect Woon from Chun, who still haunted Woon. So Woon went out  to kill Chun---no reason to do that, really. The man was effectively no longer the leader of the guild, had really resigned his post to Woon, was a broken man after Ga-ok’s death, and had no one to fight after Gwang taek’s death.

And Woon stabbed Chun and dealt him a fatal blow. The narrative has Chun limp away and actually be killed by state enemy arrows while saving Jin-joo in an echo of a redemption, but the truth is, he was never a father, and the damage he had already inflicted on Ga-ok and the death-path he set up for Woon were sins he couldn’t change with his feelings for a girl he thought for a moment could have been his own daughter, who WAS the daughter of the woman he had loved and lost, albeit a daughter by his rival (a man he regretted killing--maybe because then there was no more “fun” as Chun called it? Who knows? The man lied so much all his life, I find it difficult to believe much of his regrets at the end, only his suffering and loneliness). Chun may have been a different person had he made different choices in his life. If with all his talent and swordsmanship had chosen to leave the guild with Ga-ok and have a family, or dissolve it like Woon later did--but no, like Ga-ok said, he loved dominating people too much. He drank too much. He wanted to fight Gwang-taek too much. He mind-fucked a little boy, and set off a time bomb in him, lying to him for years, that would go off a decade later.

Chun was, what we would call in these days, a classic narcissistic abuser. What would be called in those days, a man taking advantage of his privilege and his power. Although, come to think of it--that’s a man common as the grasses in the field these days too. And given what the statistics are for child-rape in my own country and in this century, back then, when there were no laws to protect them, when it was open-season on those not powerful and male, I have no doubt that the writer intended Chun, who was way too touchy-feely with Woon, raped Woon as a child. I know many people in the WBDS fandom won’t go that far. Oh, maybe the scene suggested that Chun “felt” Woon’s killer rage when Woon walked by him on the path that day as a 12 yr old. Maybe Chun knew that Woon was the son of someone who had made a blood-vow with Gwang-taek, the Yeo Cho-sang who had once been a worthy fighter even if he was a village drunk now--but why the interest in the child that moment? Woon was simply walking down the road. Chun asked Woon his name so he DIDN’T know for sure that Woon was Cho-sang’s son. Even so, is swordsmanship hereditary? Chun looked Woon up and down. He had no evidence Woon could fight and would make a good assassin. He touched a boy’s hair, showed uncharacteristic paternal affection he would not show later--although he remained touchy-feely. With a pretty 12-year old he had hunted down like a rabbit.

And he would lie, lie, lie to the boy and play mind games with him like a classic narcissist who loved power and dominance.

How Woon recalls the memories he blocked out is typical of victims of abuse and one of the devices used very well in a script that is far from perfect (although memorable because of many reasons--the characters, the fighting scenes, the poetic parallels, the stunning outdoor shots, the ton of money poured into production, the standard K-drama emotion-range of love and tragedy being extra intense). Woon recalls bits over a period of 10 years, doesn’t know the truth until Chun tells him that it was Chun himself who murdered his father, and may not remember the whole truth- until the day he impales himself on Dong-soo’s blade, and re-enacts what his own father did that day. Yeo Cho-sang  impaled himself on Woon’s own blade.

What truly happened with Woon was that even after Chun’s death, even after Woon was able to redeem himself in the coup and save lives, even after believing Dong-soo and Sword Saint that a man makes his own destiny, and believing that he was free of his burdens, he was not free of Chun.

Like many victims of abuse, he perpetuated Chun’s narrative of LIES that he was a murder---a course set by Yeo Cho-sang, blamed himself for the murder of Crown Prince Sado when it was Chun who had killed the Crown Prince, even told the Prince Heir that as the truth is shown playing in Woon’s mind.

Yeo Woon, still held in the grip of Chun, even though Chun is dead. Still a prisoner of a narcissist pirate. Still a victim.

And one of the things these perpetrators do is foster guilt, terrible guilt in their victims that EVERYTHING is their fault while instilling some sense of debt and confusion and loyalty. Woon’s father may not have let Woon take up the blade, may have told him the nonsense that about the killer destiny. But Woon’s words to his father that night Woon could not kill him were “I AM NOT A KILLER.” Chun heard those words and yet let Woon believe Woon had killed his own father. What a great guy that Chun. I can’t believe audiences fell for that charismatic typical sociopath. It’s such Ted Bundy classic bullshit.

Chun gave Woon the blade that Woon’s father wouldn’t and allowed him to use it. Woon said NO to his father, but he couldn’t say no to Chun. Stockholm Syndrome in a way because Chun had rescued Woon from a father who beat him, who had killed Woon’s mother, who had given him the sword to defend himself, a boy referred to as “girly” throughout the whole series, that Yeo Cho-sang had refused his own son.

Yeo Cho-sang, a ineffective abuser because Woon was a damn tough kid, did not get through to Woon and manipulate him the way Chun did. And then Chun did not teach Woon a thing, no swordsmanship, no wisdom so forget anything approaching genuine parently mentoring--Chun merely lied, gaslighted, gave him assassin assignments and exploited his gifts in every way. In the end, Chun was Woon’s killer.

Other people were bystanders. Chun killed Woon in the field that day. A person without Woon’s history who had heard Cho-rip’s words “It’s all your fault” would have known them to be false. Woon heard what he had believed all his life. His suicidal self (he had attempted suicide before in the series, asking Ji-sun to kill him, holding his own blade before his throat before Chun, trying to kill Hong in what he knew would end up in his own conviction and death) believed Cho-rip that he did not deserve to live.

And a healthy person would have believed that he deserved Dong-soo’s love and care. Time and time again, Woon didn’t speak his truth to anyone, not even to the person who most needed and wanted to hear it--Dong-soo. Woon didn’t tell Gwang-taek and Sa-mo at the wharf what happened to him, how he became an assassin--they asked. They both tried to parent him. They both tried to care for him. Dong-soo tried with all his heart to save Woon. Woon refused them all--not believing he was worthy.

Why?  Chun had said there was there was blood on Woon’s hands. Woon believed Chun, not his own father, that he was shit. That he had a killer destiny. That whoever he had saved did not make up for that. That he had to die. Cho-rip listed the people who died because of Woon. Cho-rip said that even the Prince Heir and Dong-soo would not be safe if Woon lived. Woon believed that. In order for Dong-soo, his most beloved person to live, Woon would have to kill himself. Dong-soo’s being alive was more important than Woon’s being alive.

The following video killed me. It echoed a lot of what I speak of in this meta--and the song in its repeated use of the word “come” creeps me out because of the power Chun had over Woon and the sexual implication.  The MV seems to indict Chun, Gwang-taek, and Dong-soo in Woon’s death. I don’t blame “let me take care of you” Gwang-taek  who sent Woon back to Heuksa Chorong  (and don’t get me started on Gwang-taek’s other flaw of believing women shouldn’t wield the sword--in those days women could not enter military or police and had only a choice as bandits, outlaws or assassins if they did and his love Ga-ok had died by the sword--but I address that in my fix-it fic because I have Woon say, as he suggested to Dong-soo, that there was no protecting everyone--that one shouldn’t go around saying one could when one couldn’t, that sometimes men would not be around to protect women). I don’t blame Dong-soo, who in his desperation, told Woon something literally impossible to carry out but impossibly romantic--that if there was something Woon could not bear, Dong-soo would bear it for him. I don’t even blame Cho-rip, who in his stupidity, in his hyper-academic reasonable-ness and allegiance to the law, was trying to protect the Prince Heir--and who probably felt bitter still for having been stabbed by Woon and who didn’t have all the facts about how Woon saved people--and who, yeah, had been treated as a third wheel by Dong-soo and Woon, all his life, would say those things to Woon after having been STABBED by Woon’s own employees.

I blame Chun.

I see one victim and one cruel perpetrator.

Chun killed a beautiful, good person. Yeo Woon who all his life tried with all his goodness and intelligence to do right, who stood up to his father and the Prince Heir to save even his own life while he tried to save others (this is also typical of abuse survivors--their compassion and caregiving excesses, their willingness to sacrifice themselves for others, even as they fight for their own lives like crazy--PTSD is a desperate coping mechanism for survival); Woon was exploited and defeated by Chun’s crazy programming at every turn. In the end, Chun won.  In the end, Woon was Chun’s mirror--he believed he was the irredeemable murderer Chun actually was, and his own goodness believed that such a person didn’t deserve to live.

And it was a grotesque tragedy--Woon dying for Dong-soo. Dong-soo unable to protect with his own sword and Woon dying on it in his arms.Just as Woon changed his life for Dong-soo, he decided to die for him. One huge flaw of the series is how Dong-soo is drinking, almost in a parody of Woon’s own father and Chun, in attempts to forget Woon and hallucinates Woon in the end, and yet this is so unsatisfying. As is the very end when Dong-soo promises to teach martial arts to a child (is it the same child Woon reached out to and tried to teach how to hold a sword?) Woon died for no reason. No reason.  Even as a cautionary tale, even as a supreme tragedy--and yes, Shakespeare wrote tragedy so yeah it’s a genre and fine fine but that makes the funny bits at the end of the series ring false and strange (Cho-rip's little courtship of Mi-so! Cho-rip of all people!), and the story doesn’t end with any solid ending or tribute to Yeo Woon--at most, an oblique one.

Gwang-taek and Ga-ok got prolonged, hugely weepy, classic K-drama funerals, but stunned audiences didn't have time to mourn Yeo Woon before Sa-mo was a-flirting or Cho-rip was kissing Mi-so right out there in public, and nope, no funeral, nothing. The whiplash, wow. i would have at least like to have had the vaguest recognition that some of Woon's brave deeds were recognized (maybe the gisaeng told?) or know where Woon was buried. Woon was, after all, one of the two main leads, and arguably (although most reviewers won’t even argue the contention) Woon’s character stole the show; I don’t know how many times I’ve read the series should’ve been called Assassin Yeo Woon instead of Warrior Baek Dong-soo.

We know that Baek Dong-soo went on with his life, lived well past what men of his time did, and became famous for writing a martial arts book. Yeo Woon, as may be the point of the script, is a figure lost in history. But should he be lost after audiences have grown to love him or mourn him so much? Ah, the reason for this blog and why I’ve written so much fix-it fic.

And yes, I am a survivor of abuse. Yeo Woon didn’t have to die. As the script was written, he may have--I predicted it from the episode his father went down.  Was there any escaping that trauma? But as in all transformative art and reimaginings, I can save him. Fandom can reclaim him. He’s not dead. He’s not. I will save him again and again.

eta: omg so many typos--caution to maybe edit before posting. I did put this up on A03 though. I’ll put up a somewhat funny story re Cho-rip later. I just needed to purge myself of these fandom thoughts.

[hawke-tethras-2020]

Ambushed

Read on AO3 here

CW: Violence

A little fluff/a little angst/a little Hawke being a badass/sfw

Hot, metallic blood ran from Hawke’s forehead and into her mouth. She grimaced at the taste of it; the familiar tang only told her that she had been hit. Hard.

“Anders!” she yelled at her fellow mage, who was standing a few yards behind the rest. “A little help would be great!”

Anders nodded her way, and before she knew it she felt the cool touch of healing magic against her temple. Not as effective as it would have been if he was standing closer, but helpful nonetheless.

 The four of them had been ambushed. Aveline had sent for Hawke, and the younger woman was on her way to Hightown with Fenris, Anders, and Varric when a massive group of Carta Loyalists descended on them.

 “Good thing I never travel alone! And you boys call me ‘codependent,’” she had joked at the time.

 Now, the situation looked much more dire. Each of her companions was bloodied to some extent. Hawke stood in the middle of the pack, not the ideal place for a mage.

 She shot a fireball at a group of three dwarves and sent them to their feet. “Thin out the pack that’s coming from that alley, Varric!” she shouted. Her request was met with a hail of arrows flying over her head.

 It wasn’t the skill or strength of the attackers that worried Hawke; they weren’t all that adept, and she knew her friends would be able to deal with them under normal circumstances. It was the sheer number of them that frightened her. They hadn’t had time to set up an attack formation, and now they couldn’t get on top. There were too many of them.

 Hawke and her friends had been in enough street fights to know they needed signals. Luckily, and much to Hawke’s chagrin, Aveline had insisted that they come up with a cue to retreat. Hawke wasn’t one to back away from a fight, but today was different. They weren’t equipped, they weren’t prepared, and they had taken too much of a beating at the front end of the attack.

 A quick glance around the area told Hawke that everyone was in close enough proximity to fall back. Anders was still situated behind the rest as he cast healing spells at an unmatchable pace. Varric and Bianca worked at taking out one Carta member at a time; he struggled to reload her without getting overrun. Fenris, his height, strength, and finesse with a sword always a beacon to their enemies, was surrounded on every side. He swung his weapon in a wide arc and knocked three dwarves straight to their feet. He looked over and grinned at Hawke, but not before she noticed yet more enemies approach him.

 She sprayed a cone of ice out of her staff to paralyze the three rogues closest to her. It did little to slow them down; she was out of energy and out of lyrium potions.

 She let out a sharp whistle, three different notes, that signified it was time to escape. She stepped back, quickly, in Anders’ direction. Her eyes were trained on the mess in front of her -- dead bodies were scattered everywhere. Blood seeped into the cobblestones around her feet. Fenris and Varric tucked their weapons closer to their sides, in a defensive position. There were only six or so Carta members left alive, and it didn’t look like any more were on their way. Hawke turned on her heel and sprinted towards Anders.

 “Broody?” Varric called out.

 Hawke whipped her head around to see what happened. Fenris sank to the ground, both hands clutched to his stomach. His knees hit the cobblestone and he crumpled. His lyrium marks went dull. A dwarf stood behind him, bloody dagger in hand, and grinned at the work he had done.

 A wordless, guttural scream ripped from Hawke’s throat. Something akin to strength rose from deep in her belly, fueled by rage, and erupted out through the top of her staff. She raced back down the alley, one hand clenched tight around her weapon, the other balled up into a fist. She doused the first Carta Loyalist she saw in fire and sent a fireball roaring towards two others, who had tried their best to escape the area.

 She had no more magic left to conjure, but she was close enough to the last two dwarves. In one fluid motion, she crouched, extended her staff, and swept in half circle. Both of them were instantly knocked off of their feet. She kicked one of them and hit the other with the blunt end of her weapon so that the breath was knocked out of each of them, too.

 “Varric, take care of them,” she snarled. She rushed over to Fenris and fell to the ground next to him. Anders was already there, knelt close to the wound. Hawke’s hands immediately busied themselves. One of them stroked his face while the other checked for a pulse at his neck. She couldn’t find one.

 “Is he breathing?!” she shouted at Anders. “I can’t feel his pulse.”

 “Yes, Hawke,” he said, but his voice was distant as he concentrated.

 “Why can’t I feel his pulse?” She could feel her own voice going up in volume and in pitch.

 “It’s faint. He is losing blood. And you are panicking,” he responded. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows.

 “Can I help? Are you helping him?” She tried to force herself to be calm, but she knew she failed. She swore her heart was in her mouth at this point. It was difficult for her to speak.

“You can help by staying there and keeping quiet. I cannot concentrate when I know you are suffering. I will do what I can here, but we need to get him to my clinic right away.”

 Varric came up behind Hawke and laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, kid,” he soothed. “Fenris is strong. He’ll come out of this better than ever, you’ll see.”

 Hawke gritted her teeth at the thought of the alternative.

 ***

 Two nights later, Hawke sat outside of Anders’ clinic. She hugged her knees to her chest and stared at nothing. She hadn’t left Darktown since they had transported Fenris there.

 Anders had worked nonstop to heal the stab wound. The assassin had flanked Fenris from behind; no one had seen him. While Fenris was busy with the other three foes in front of him, the assassin slipped out his dagger and stabbed Fenris in the gut. Luckily, he had missed his mark by an inch or so, and Fenris’ vital organs were spared. The wound was deep, though, and Fenris had lost a lot of blood before Anders was able to patch him up.

 He was still unconscious. At first, Anders kept the elf knocked out on purpose. It would help expedite the healing process, he claimed, and it wouldn’t hurt to keep the we-used-magic-to-fix-you thing a secret, for the time being.

 But Anders had stopped using elixirs to keep him under the day before, and Hawke agonized over why he had yet to open his eyes.

 If the group didn’t know there was something between them before, they sure did now. No one could miss Hawke’s unwashed face, her red-rimmed eyes, and the nightmares that kept everyone else in the clinic awake as she tried to sleep.

 Hawke stood up to stretch her limbs. She’d been evicted from the interior of the clinic by every one of her companions, by a show of hands, because she was pacing and making them all nervous. Merrill was the only one that voted to let her stay inside and continue to pace.  

 She heard the door open behind her, and suddenly, Anders’ familiar voice.

 “He’s awake,” the other mage said, and before Hawke could even fully register what that meant, she pushed past him and rushed to the room where Fenris had laid so lifeless for two days.

 Now, his green eyes were open and he was propped up against some pillows. Hawke slowed as she neared him. She didn’t want to hurt him or distress him.

 “I heard you gave them hell, Hawke,” he said, his voice thicker than usual.

“I did,” she replied. “Literally. I threw fire at them.” She always reverted to jokes to hide her emotional state. She hoped Fenris didn’t notice.

 “Can I sit?” she asked.

 “Of course. Am I to deny the woman who saved my life?” he asked.

 Hawke perched on the edge of the bed so that she faced him. It felt so good to look at him and have her look back at her. Her fingers twitched; on an impulse, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

 All pretense of calm and confidence escaped her in that moment. She could feel her breath grow heavy; not quite to tears, but close. She stroked her thumb in small circles against his skin, careful not to touch any of the lyrium marks.

 “I am so happy you’re safe, Fenris. I am so sorry,” she said, her voice dropped low. She wanted this moment to stay between the two of them. She could only imagine how many of their friends were listening on the other side of the wall.

 “I would rather it me than you,” he said. His hand reached up to cup her face.

 “I was so scared. None of us have ever been hurt that badly, you know?”

 “Indeed. As Anders so frequently reminded me in the five minutes I was awake before he told you.”

 “And to see you laying there on the ground, bloody…” she shivered. “I thought you were dead.” Her eyes dropped to their hands.

 “Do not think in what if’s, Marian,” he said. “I am still here. I am still with you.”

 He laid his hand on her waist and pulled her to him. She laid against him and buried her face in his chest. He smelled more like medicine than usual, but underneath that were the familiar scents of iron, wine, and, more recently, honeysuckle. She breathed him in and felt comforted.

 “Good,” she said, her voice muffled. “Because I would kill you if you died.”

 He chuckled, and she loved the way the reverberations felt against her forehead.

 “I was so angry, you know. I lost my head. I may have actually turned in to fire at one point. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to being a dragon,” she rambled.

“Your life’s great ambition. I am so glad I could help,” he said. He absentmindedly stroked her hair, as if it were a habit.

 Every move he made felt more significant to Hawke now. She wanted to soak him in. She couldn’t help but feel as if she had taken every moment they had spent together for granted. That she had almost lost him set ablaze a fire of longing for him; not in a sexual or even a sensual way, but just to be close to him, to hold him, to keep him safe. It felt like a gift to her.

 It was in that moment that she realized she was in love with him.

 They talked for a while, and the conversation quickly turned away from the morbid and into the jovial. Hawke never wanted to imagine not talking to him again.

 After almost an hour, Hawke moved to sit up. “I should let you rest,” she explained, as she saw the confused expression in his eyes.

 “I would...I would perhaps rest better. If you stayed,” he offered.

 “Are you sure? Ask anyone here and they’d tell you I’m a <em>terrible</em> sleeper. Something about mumbling ‘You dirty Carta bastards!’ over and over again,” she teased, but her heart leapt at the thought of his suggestion. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her. He was the one who asked this time.

 “I think I can handle it. I did just narrowly escape death, you know.”

 Hawke settled back down next to him, so they were face to face, and tucked her knee between his legs.

 He pressed a kiss to her forehead and closed his eyes.

 “Thank you, Hawke,” he breathed. “Thank you does not suffice. I am so grateful for you.”

 “Trust me. I’m the grateful one. And now that we’re on the subject of dragons...”

 Hawke prattled off a story a story her mother used to tell her until his breath turned deep and even. Only then did she let the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep.

[likelovelikesuicide]

Shadowhunters 2.19 - Immediate Reaction - Everything Ends

The tone of this episode felt very jarring following last week … We went from Somber/Emotional to full on WAR mode - however, once again a lot happened within very little time. I mean, this was a literal continuation of the same day… we saw Johnathan return to his apartment, to Valentine following his escape from Clary…. Then all hell breaks loose in search of Valley boy and his demon toast son.

It was awesome to see our lead Shadowhunters fighting on the front lines again - Alec with the bow + Izzy and her whip = Battle Siblings are the best… also, Clary’s fire red hair flying as she slices through an army of forsaken… Loved it -  I don’t know what Jace did physically but he managed to annoy Jonathan out of choking him to death with a chain, so like, he’s got that going for him… Jake Peralta would give #kudos

Its truly ridiculous that the parabati bond is so Fucking inconsistent - Jace cuts his hand and Alec feels it but Alec nearly dies trying to find Jace and Jace has to hear about it from Clary before it starts to affect him… Jace nearly chokes to death, then is stabbed through the lung and nothing… Magnus breaks Alec’s heart, nothing but when Magnus and Alec moved forward as a couple = Jace senses Alec is happier and gives Magnus “the talk”… there’s just so much off with it and my point is that the bond is used as a plot device, a very lazy one. And I think it’s naive of the writers not to know that we, as an audience, would notice that shit. So just like, drop it altogether or use it for everything. That’s literally the point of it.

Jonathan seriously needs a therapist because that boy has some rage issues and like, I’m pretty sure he’s not dead but I was also pretty sure Magnus and Alec wouldn’t break-up this season and I’m eating my words on that because right now, during this particular day - the are not together and that sucks. Also Valley boy got away and Johnny boy might have died or whatever so that sucks too… Moving on…

OMG Madzie and Catarina!!!!! And Magnus having his people just chillin in his home when he returns kinda totally warmed my heart… I miss seeing Magnus’ life outside of the other main characters… but like does this boy actually have locks on his doors? And if so, How many keys to the loft are just floating around NYC? Seriously anyone can totally walk into his home anytime! Is anyone else worried about this? - But of course my heart was first broken by the photo-booth pictures of him and Alec (however, I call bullshit because those weren’t their outfits when they went to Tokyo and come on… that was so not planned by the writers/people who do this shit and that bugs me. All I’m saying. Cute idea, poorly executed. Also Magnus and Alec are in love so like, why you gotta be like this?)…. Honestly, I really didn’t get where Magnus’ head was in this episode and he had very little screen time so like, we’re clearly not supposed to get it… I suspect we’ll need 2.20 to understand 2.19 for the Alec/Magnus/Seelie Queen + Valentine arc to make sense… I hope

Look, we KNOW the Seelie Queen is obviously playing everyone and we’re only seeing fragments of what’s really going on in the downworld, while the Shadowhunters try and fail to gain some sort of control over the situation. So a lot of information is in question for us, the audience - What did Valentine offer the Seelie Queen to make her walk alone with him? Why is Magnus suddenly siding with the queen and letting her speak for his people while filling his home with warlocks like he did before he met Alec? Why is Magnus so adamant that the best chance for his people lies in the Seelie Queen when he didn’t appear too fond of her like a week ago? What did she tell him? Offer him? What’s up with that? Is it all because of the lie/secret keeping issue involving the soul sword? And why would Magnus turn on Alec? - We know they love each other, has he just accepted defeat here? IS MAGNUS THE ONE PLAYING WITH EVERYONE? IS ALEC IN ON IT? CAUSE LIKE … I don’t get THIS?! Because Magnus legit had his people set up portal wards to prevent ANY shadowhunter from traveling out of the city… and he didn’t warn them that they would like, totally DIE if they tried to use a Portal? That seems cold and Magnus isn’t cold… I’m so confused… I’m hoping Magnus has a plan of his own under all this because Holy Fuck the Seelie Queen is playing EVERYONE…. Except Simon. You go Simon. #ohbutwaitno…

Luke is finally being level headed and doing right by his pack so that’s awesome + Maia is his beta #it’scanon… but like, where’s his snoopy cop partner in all this? I don’t trust her silence.

Raphael and Izzy need to stop. Straight Up. STOP… it got too weird and you can’t go back from that. Be friends, care for each other, support each other through this shit and whatever, But you’re not lovers… please don’t go there again. Pretty please? - Maia and Simon need to keep it up because they’re cute but like, let’s be real here… Maia was a walking target for the Seelie Queen (does she have a name? I hate that she is just like “the queen” fuck off bitch you’re not The Doctor or Beyonce. Come on now…) anyway, Maia is dating the daylighter, a possession the Seelie Queen appears to need/want and she’s a werewolf in Luke’s pack. 2 for 2 bitch. Take her… I get the Seelie Queen’s play on this… but meeting with Valentine? Whatcha doin with that BITCH?

The Clace scenes felt out of place for me - unless they both have a sexy battle times kink…. The intimate scenes felt overwrought in juxtaposition with the rest of the episode. I don’t know, they really are sweet on each other and it’s cute and the actors did their part (Kat likes Dom’s chest a lot…) but I just didn’t FEEL it… in fact, I would actually say I didn’t truly FEEL anything in this episode. (accept maybe Maia waking up after being drugged and finding herself in the Seelie Realm because fuck man, anyone would be shitting bricks…) But we moved through so many scenes very quickly and while the story followed well, we also saw a lot of those scenes in previews and that ruins the suspense a bit. Just saying…

Okay but Imogene can’t be Valentine’s fucking mole because of her actions in 2.12… end of discussion. Unless they flip the script and Imogene wanted to kill Magnus but like. It can't… it doesn’t work… So who is it? And like, of fucking course Valentine has a mole in the institute! Was anyone actually foolish enough to think he didn’t? But it wasn’t the Seelie Queen either, given their scene tonight she may be working with him now but she wasn’t when he found out the true identity of the mortal mirror… So who is it???? - Also, Valley boy got away, again and is working with the very people he means to destroy, again and Johnny boy might be dead? Or Was he ever properly alive? I don’t know man but my best friend will never watch another episode of this show with me because she’s terrified of zombies and those were fucking zombies. Also, Alec took out two with one arrow through the fucking skull.#damnson #myboysgotgame

[heyymonkey2]

First Night Back in Fuuga Ch 27: Every Heart’s Truth (Part One)

AO3 Link to Chapter 27

Summary: Confusing things can happen on a battlefield

Dust rises. Thousands of feet herd forward. Yona watches from the distance, her heart stopped. Hak... be safe. She musters her strength and wills her heart to beat again.

“Steady now,” she whispers more to herself than anyone else, “You are all precious, perfect, and irreplaceable -- so not a scratch, OK!”

Zeno smiles brightly at Little Miss, “Zeno is good at coming back.”

“We’ll take care of this quickly, Your Excellence,” Kija affirms, his engorged hand raised.

Shin-Ah nods sagely, then lifts his wooden mask and faces forward at the ready.

“We won’t be far,” Jae-Ha comforts.

But as the dragons charge off into battle... Jae-Ha stays.

Yona has dismounted and is loading an arrow on her bow, “You should go -- they need you out there.”

It’s like he has iron chains on once again. He can’t will himself to leave her.

“Jae-Ha…,” she lowers her bow and looks at him, “I’m here where few are fighting. Hak is in there,” she nods toward the mass of collision, “If you don’t go help fight, I don’t think I’ll have the strength to keep calm,” she’s shaking now.

Always, he stares at her sadly, To keep one safe, I end up putting the other in danger.

“Jae-Ha,” she begs, “Please... go.”

He feels it in his blood -- he’s being sent away. So he says it one more time, “I won’t be far,” then turns and heads to wreak damage on the opposing army. And any other opposition to those dear to him.

As the dragons storm the scene, Kija lifts handfuls of Kai warriors at once, tossing them into the distance. A wall of the men stop and stare, terrified at not knowing how to fight such a monster. Many start retreating already. Kija continues forward, knocking arrows out of their paths and flinging enemy fighters into each other.

Zeno grabs a sword from the ground and inflicts strategic cuts -- not killing, but limiting Kai warriors’ abilities to do more than yelp in pain. Three Kai warriors see and work together to corner him. They’re baffled when he drops his weapons and opens his arms. Well… so be it -- one of the men stabs Zeno, who remains standing. So the man stabs again… and stumbles backward as he watches Zeno remain standing again, staring forward at them. Zeno’s wounds heal before their eyes. Their jaws drop. Zeno smiles -- and charges at them.

Shin-Ah fights elegantly with his sword -- saving use of his eyes for a moment of utmost need. He hopes it won’t come to that.

“Finally, a day I’m not dying to see those beautiful eyes of yours,” Jae-Ha lands nearby as he deals out a dangerous dose of blades to Kai warriors and finishes with a beautiful kick to the gut of another.

In the distance, Yona lands arrows where she most uniquely can help from her vantage point. She fires arrow after arrow. But at some point… she will run out.

She wipes sweat from her brow just thinking about it, I can’t just sit here watching… waiting...

Lili rides with Ayura and Tetora toward the cloud of madness, a cacophony of screams.

The female bodyguards look over at Lili in shock and awe. She’s really doing this.

Lili stares forward, terrified but being brave, Yona would do this for me.

Kyo-Ga shouts with his arm raised high as he commands the Fire warriors go up the side to create a distraction. The fighters obey in perfect choreography.

The Earth and Water tribes hold a line of defense steady on the border. General Joon-Gi cleanly takes out adversaries and General Geun-Tae is a festive beast on the ground with his wide blade -- savoring every slay, with countless to boast.

The Wind and Sky tribes rush up the center.

Soo-Won, Keishuk, and Joo-Doh charge forward, along the way ducking between swinging swords down to knock Kai soldiers out en masse. Converging on the same spot as the king and his entourage….

...are Hak and General Tae-Woo. As they go, they block arrows and stop blows against the wounded -- giving all the strength they have to save lives.

“Watch it!” Hak swings his glaive to stop an arrow from piercing Tae-Woo, “I thought I trained you better than to die like that!”

Tae-Woo grimaces, “I can’t avoid everything!”

“I don’t wanna hear that from you!” Hak knocks out half a dozen Kai fighters with his glaive, then, “Keep your head, it’s about to get interesting.”

Tae-Woo follows Hak’s eyeline to see Soo-Won arriving at Li Hazara, just a short distance ahead.

Li Hazara is a grizzly beast of a man -- an incredibly imposing figure who dwarfs Soo-Won in height and perceived strength.

“Well, well…” both men dismount, knowing what comes next. Li Hazara muses, “If it isn’t the young king of Kouka. I’m glad you came all this way... I’ve been waiting a long time for your head.”

Li Hazara smiles dementedly, nose flaring -- he charges -- and Joo-Doh blocks his blade.

Straining his double blades upwards against Li Hazara, Joo-Doh flicks the man backward, then charges.

The two men twist and bend fighting one another -- Li Hazara’s blade catches Joo-Doh on the back of the leg. The Sky general falls in frustration with a shout.

Li Hazara turns and continues forward toward Soo-Won. Keishuk watches smugly off to the side.

Li Hazara swings -- Soo-Won dodges or blocks each move gracefully, watching carefully through each step, calculating.

Yona stands in a defining moment of truth -- staring at the fray, holding a bow without any arrows. The object like a mother with an empty womb… all the children have gone ahead now. There is no work left that can be done here.

But Yona still feels she has so much to do, to give. Her blood is on fire. Something inside her compels her: You must go forth. This is your destiny.

And once she is walking… she is running.

ARGH! Soo-Won has hit Li Hazara in the flank. The man falls back two steps, clutching at his side. He lifts his hand to see the blood, then looks up with a feral smile at the young king, “The boy can fight after all.”

“Any man can fight,” Soo-Won sidesteps strategically, “The skill -- is to win,” and as Li Hazara twists in reaction while lifting his sword for a strong blow downward, Soo-Won surprise throws his sword -- and it pierces Li Hazara in the chest.

The Lord lets out a great gust of air as he absorbs the pain.

Li Hazara focuses the best he can on Soo-Won as his eyes fill with blood, “You bastard!” and he charges at the king with a final burst of strength.

Soo-Won moves, but not quickly enough--

--Hak pulls him out of Li Hazara’s path, swiping the juggernaut in the center with his glaive as he does so. Li Hazara falls in a heap. All that rage and anger -- gone. Still.

“RETREAT!!” The Kai offense immediately begins to fall back -- its leader down.

Keishuk’s eyes go wide at the scene. Who, then, really took out Li Hazara? It doesn't matter... on the battlefield: whoever we say did.

As hundreds of men zoom all around them, Hak and Soo-Won stand motionless over Li Hazara’s dead body, victorious, and yet…

...facing each other as though enemies alone on a cold night in a desolate place.

“Li Hazara is down!”

Yona can see and hear the retreat, No… no… faster, I have to get to them faster!

Her motion is fluid, there isn’t even a need to gasp for air -- she’s practically flying toward them, her movement so unburdened by anything but the passion that drives her forward.

News of the retreat has not yet reached the fringe where Lili arrives with her bodyguards. She leaps from her horse, sprinting into the disarray in a crazed attempt to find her father. To beg with her life -- if this battle turns to a moment of choosing, the Water Tribe MUST side with Yona. There is no other justice in this world. No other possible way forward.

And with all that focus, all that determination buzzing through her mind -- she sees it. Her father’s valiant fight on the battlefield… and his fall. As he lands on his knees, a daughter watches the confusion in her father’s eyes as he takes his last breath.

“FATHER!!!!” Lili screams, sobbing, running -- tackled by Tetora who pins her down.

“There’s nothing you can do…” Tetora cries, “He’s gone.”

“We need to get out of here!” Ayura tries to drag them up, “Quickly!”

Lili stares at the ground, the streams of blood. And suddenly she’s not the same girl anymore. Nor will she ever be again. Her eyes wide, she slowly rises, and with something hollow inside her, she stares deeper into the mess.

“This is an order: Don’t follow me.”

The air between them can’t be seen, but it can be felt. Sorrow. Rage. Regret.

Hak and Soo-Won stare, fingering their weapons, breathing steadily, waiting for the moment someone moves.