#brother battle broTHER BATTLE BROTHER BATTLE BROTHER BATTLE BROT

[i-like-polls]

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 20: The Battle of Marineford

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Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 3.1k Note: Just wanted to preface this story by saying this will NOT be a word for for recount of Marineford. I took some slight creative liberties because...well, I hate regurgitating the same story that's already been written word-for-word.

--

Marco stared down at you, still holding you firmly against the floor. Your widened eyes alerted him, and he turned around to find a massive ship falling from the sky.

“You have to get below-”

A giant crash came off the starboard side of the ship, cutting off his words. The surprise made you both freeze, trying to listen to what was being screamed down below. 

“Who is that?” you whispered, but Marco only shushed you. He was looking to your father for guidance, but Whitebeard seemed just as confused. 

“Nobody is moving from that ship,” Whitebeard said, his eyes on the battlefield. “It must be abandoned.”

“No.” You shook your head and finally pushed Marco off you to set up. You were still hidden from the Admiral’s sight, which seemed to satisfy everyone. “I heard screaming.”

“Then they died on impact. Perhaps an enemy attack gone wrong,” Marco offered, to which you shrugged. It still didn’t feel right, but you didn’t understand how it got to this place. 

The fighting began to pick up again, and you could hear swords clanging against each other. 

You continued to stay low, occasionally peeking over the bannister to gather more intel about the battlefield. Little Oars had fallen on a segment of the wall and prevented it from raising, which meant you had a way to get in. Your path to Ace was becoming more clear. 

“ACEEEEEE!” A very familiar voice shouted, causing your ears to perk up. “I’M HERE!!”

“LUFFY!” Ace shouted, solidifying your speculation. 

You stood to your feet, looking at the strange ship that had crashed into the sea a few minutes before. It was him. Ace’s little brother. The pirate with a 300,000,000 berry bounty on his head. 

“Luffy,” you breathed out, a smile growing on your face. So he had found out about Ace’s capture. Perhaps he wasn’t totally clueless.

“Ace’s kid brother?” Marco asked, looking at the young boy skeptically. “He’s got quite a crew.”

You frowned, Marco’s words sinking in. “Those people aren’t his crew. In fact…” you scanned the area around the ship. “I don’t see his crew at all. Those people are-”

“Criminals. Pirates sent to Impel Down,” your father chimed in, looking at them all. “How the hell did they break out?”

You had to assume the answer was Luffy. He had a tendency to make mayhem.

You could hear screaming between Luffy’s makeshift crew and the Navy, but you took the time to quickly assess everything. You could make it to the ship Luffy was on, and run with him. You knew he would make it to the platform, especially with help from people like Crocodile, Buggy,  Ivonkov, and…

“Jinbe,” you whispered. 

You had heard he had been captured and sent to Impel Down for disobeying the Navy and refusing to fight in Marineford. But he was here. You almost cried from relief. It had been so long since you had seen him, and yet everything about him remained the same.  

You had been so focused on Jinbe that you hadn’t seen Crocodile sneak up behind your father, trying to go in for a strike. 

But Luffy was instantly there, blocking his strike and kicking Crocodile away from your father to protect him.

“Listen, brat,” Crocodile growled. “If you want to save Ace so badly, go do it. I’m here to kill Whitebeard and that’s it.”

“So this old guy is Whitebeard, huh?” Luffy said, his skin glowing with a pink hue. “Well, he’s Ace’s friend, so I won’t let anything happen to him!”

You snickered lightly at his words. Nobody could deny they were brothers. 

“Runs in the family, huh?” Marco whispered, and you nodded in agreement. That was an understatement.

“You came here to rescue your big brother?” your father asked Luffy, staring him down. 

“That’s right,” Luffy said, giving a slight nod. He had the look of pure determination in his eyes. Failure was not an option.

“You’re just a kid. What can you do?” your father scolded, and you flinched at the harshness of his words. “A squirt like you is going to get slaughtered real easy!”

“Shut up! You don’t even know me!” Luffy shouted back, and you had to stifle another laugh. “I know what you want! If you want to be the king, you gotta go through me!”

“Just like Ace,” Marco mumbled, rolling his eyes. You gave him a grin in response. 

The two had an intense stare off, your father doing his best to intimidate Luffy. But you knew Luffy. He wouldn’t back down, no matter what the odds looked like. 

“What a cheeky punk,” Whitebeard said, giving his smile of approval. “Don't go crying if you get a few boo-boos.”

“Yeah right! I’m not old like you!” Luffy shot back, the two of them turning to face Marineford together now. 

“Just sit tight, Ace. I’m coming for you.” Luffy said, and then turned to your father. “Old man, there’s something I gotta tell you…I heard on the ship that the Navy is moving up the schedule. They just have to get set for something first.”

Your heart quickened and your eyes darted to Ace. You couldn’t lose him yet. You weren’t ready to watch him die. 

“Thanks for letting me know, kid. Glad I ran into you.” Your father’s eyes moved to you, looking for some kind of strategy guidance. Your mind was racing as it ran through the options. You had to get to him as fast as possible. 

“Sure thing,” Luffy said. “Hang on Ace! I’m on my way!” 

Luffy began to run away, but you couldn’t let him go without you. 

“Luffy!” you shouted, pulling away from Marco and walking towards him and your father. “Hang on a second!”

Luffy’s head whipped around, and a smile broke across his face when he saw you. “You made it back to the ship okay! Good to hear!”

There was no time for small talk. You had to get to the point. “Luffy,” you warned. “Marineford is full of traps. You have to be careful.”

“Do you know where they are?” Luffy asked, his dark eyes looking at you. He trusted you. You could help him.  

This was your moment. Your time to break away. 

You nodded. “I do.”

“Great!” Luffy grabbed your hand and ran toward the railing, picking you up as he got ready to jump. “Come with me and show me!”

“No!” your father yelled, helplessly watching the two of you jump over the side of the deck and towards the battlefield. 

“Get back here!” Both Marco and Whitebeard roared simultaneously as you hit the ground, but found your footing and began sprinting, refusing to look back. 

You ran next to Luffy, swiftly keeping up with him. You found the weak spot on your shackles and quickly snapped them off, just like Rayleigh had shown you. You still had your weakened sea prism bracelet on, but you could feel energy course through your veins now that you had the marine-grade stone off. Your body felt lighter and more free, like you could do anything. 

Like you could save Ace. You were getting closer by the second. 

“Look!” One of the soldiers shouted. “Someone’s on the ship with Whitebeard!”

You risked a glance back, but you only saw Squard standing with him on the deck. No Naval threats were advancing on your father thankfully, considering he had sent most of his commanders to trail you. 

Though it was strange to see Squard on the ship. You distinctly remembered placing his ship in the rear of the fleet to keep him and his men protected. 

It was even stranger to see him unsheathe his blade. And then stab your father in his chest. 

You let out a garbled cry, immediately stopping in your tracks. All of Marineford seemed to pause, watching in a mix of awe and horror. What the hell was Squard doing? Your father had saved him from a life of evil, called him one of his own. And he was returning the favor by stabbing him in the chest?

“No,” you whispered. Your feet began to move back to the ship, trying to find a way back to him. You should’ve never run away. You should’ve stayed. You could’ve stopped this if you had been there. You should’ve seen this betrayal coming. 

Marco was by your father’s side in a flash, throwing blue flames at Squard to force him away. The three of them spoke, but you couldn’t make out any words.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the three men converse. You felt sick to your stomach as you watched the wound in your father’s chest leak blood. 

And then your father leaned forward toward Squard and wrapped him in an embrace. 

You couldn’t help but think back to your last arrival home, when you had expected a harsh scolding, but all you had received was his arms wrapped around you. You weren’t sure why Squard had done what he had, but it was clear the Whitebeard had forgiven him. 

Just like he had to you, when you had stabbed him in the heart by lying to him and losing Ace. And getting everyone into this huge mess in the first place. 

If anything, all of this was your fault. 

Someone touched your arm, causing you to flinch. Luffy’s eyes looked at you, wide and determined. He was clearly surprised by this, but neither of you had time to waste. 

“I know he’s your old man-” Luffy started. 

“Let’s keep moving,” you nodded. One small wound wouldn’t stop your father. He would be fine. You would get Ace back and pretend like this never happened. 

As you continued forward, things moved in a blur, as they often do in battle. You knocked out two Marines and stole their swords, easily keeping up with Luffy. Parry one, dodge a blade, stab and slice when you could. But always keep moving.

After a while, you started to let Luffy do the battling. He was good at wiping out lots of Marines at once, and you could hear a group of pirates running behind you to offer support. 

You could hear Marco’s wings flapping overhead, and you knew he was waiting for the perfect moment to scoop you up and take you back to be imprisoned on that ship. But you wouldn’t go back. Your father could fend for himself. You would never stop fighting until Ace was back in your arms and you had given him a proper ass-kicking. 

Explosions raged, soldiers fell, and yet you stuck close by Luffy, steadily making your way toward the platform. You could feel Ace’s eyes on you, but you refused to meet them. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking. You didn’t care. Once he was safe, he could yell at you all he wanted. You had plenty of yelling to do as well. 

You were doing well keeping up with Luffy, despite the inability to catch your breath. You were thankful he was doing most of the fighting, because you were exhausted just from running alongside him. That baby you carried was back to being an annoyance. If you would have joined this fight at your full power, the Navy wouldn’t have stood a chance. You would have destroyed them before-

A large hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you, causing you to cry out in shock as you were yanked backwards. 

“Get off!” you screamed, swinging a blade around to meet your assailant. 

“Easy!” Jinbe scolded, ducking out of the way. “You’ll kill someone with that thing!”

“Jin…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say his name. “You’re on our side?”

He gave a swift nod. “I promised I would never fight against you, didn’t I?”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you had to fight to keep them from spilling down your cheeks. You couldn’t afford to be weak here. You had to save the crying for later. 

Luffy, as oblivious as always, didn’t even notice as you wiped your eyes. He was glancing between Jinbe and the wall. 

“Can you get us across?” Luffy asked, staring up at the wall. 

Jinbe chuckled. “I can get you across. She stays with me.”

You groaned. Of course he had been recruited to keep you contained; to take you back to the Moby Dick. 

“She’s coming with me,” Luffy said. “Ace has to see us fighting for him.”

“Do you want to go over the wall or not?” Jinbe asked him, his grip still firmly around your wrist. 

“Go Luffy,” you urged him. You wouldn’t be much help over there anyway. You might even hinder him from progressing. And you had a feeling that whatever Jinbe had in mind for getting Luffy over the wall wouldn’t work for you. 

“I’ll make it,” Luffy said, giving you a nod in thanks. 

“I know you will.”

The second Jinbe let go of your wrist, you took off in another direction. You could hear him shouting for you, but you ignored him. There was no way you were going back to that damned ship. There were plenty of family members you could help. 

You slashed through the crowd, taking down every uniformed officer in your path. You had always loathed sword training days in Wano, but they were finally starting to pay off. Perhaps you would practice more often. 

If you got out of this alive. 

A cheer of pirates off to your left made you risk a glance over, and you saw Luffy being shot through the sky, onto the next phase of the rescue. As much as you wanted to be with him when he freed Ace, you were grateful you weren’t on that journey. It was something only a rubber man could survive. Even though you weren’t with him, you found yourself smiling. He would make it. 

“Don’t move!” A shrill voice shouted, and you felt the barrel of a gun press against your lower back. 

Shit. You had been distracted for one second, and now you were at the mercy of some rookie navy man. 

“Drop your weapons!” He commanded, his voice slightly more authoritative. He probably had no idea who you were, or else he would’ve fired already.

Your eyes glanced to the sky as your swords clattered to the ground. You could see Marco’s shadow circling, trying to find the perfect opportunity to intervene without getting you killed. 

“Please don’t shoot,” you whispered, throwing false fear into your voice. You put your hands up, trying to think of some crazy story. You just needed him to believe you for a fraction of a second so you could disarm him.  

“And why shouldn’t I?” The barrel jammed into your spine, causing you to flinch. 

If you didn’t have this baby, bullets would mean nothing. This cadet would already be on the ground seeing stars.

A large, familiar shadow cast over you. “Because if you do, you’re dead.” Your father’s voice boomed from behind you. “So how about you go ahead and lower that gun, boy.”

The pressure at the base of your spine quickly receded, and you could hear the gun clatter to the ground. 

“Please-” the cadet started. 

“Get out,” Whitebeard growled. 

The sound of footsteps quickly receding made you relax for a moment. You bent to the ground and picked up your swords.

“I’m not going back,” you said sharply, determined to hold your ground. 

“I didn’t ask you to,” your father snapped back. 

“Good!” you hissed. You were afraid to look at him, so you didn’t. You lowered your voice before you added, “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything more as the two of you moved across the battlefield, trying to protect your family while also moving closer to Ace. Even with his wound, your father kept a pace so quick you were having trouble keeping up with him. Maybe you were just getting slower. You’d have to train harder in the future.

You could see the platform again finally. You could see Ace, and you finally met his eyes. Even though his face was filled with horror, he was still so beautiful. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his hair, to kiss his chapped lips, to be wrapped in his arms again. 

A shot of pain coursed through your left arm, and you cried out as a navy officer kicked you down to the ground. He seemed just as surprised as you that the blade had struck you. 

He quickly backed up, choosing to retreat rather than deal a finishing blow. A strange decision for a captain to make, given that he certainly knew who you were. Why run?

Not that it mattered. Your father quickly followed him and spilled his blood before he had a chance to blink.  

And then the sound of a cannon brought the Navy’s plan together. The captain had meant to be a distraction. He had meant to keep you and your father in a stationary place, so that the cannonball would end one of you. He hadn’t expected you to fall to the ground, because he had planned to keep you busy while the cannon took aim. 

“No!” you screamed, already knowing what would happen. You couldn’t stop it; your knees were still weak from collapsing. 

Your father was back overtop of you in a flash, protecting you from the hit he knew was coming. You wanted to beg him to run, but you had no time. You had been foolish; you deserved that hit. Not him. You were tired of everyone else sacrificing themselves for your mistakes. You were supposed to be better than this. You were the best strategist on the Grand Line. How had you missed something so obvious?

The cannonball struck true a moment later, straight into your father’s chest. You screamed out, but he stood tall and firm, as if it hadn’t even affected him. 

“Dad,” you cried. “Please-”

He refused to acknowledge you, though. Instead, your father stood in front of you, trying his best to remain on his feet and keep you protected from further harm.  

This was the worst day of your life. There was no comparison. 

And then somehow it got worse. You could see Sengoku’s arm fall, giving the order to execute Ace.

You could hear someone screaming as the blades began to fall toward Ace’s tender neck. Your ears began ringing, your vision became blurry. Then you realized it was you who was screaming. 

You wanted to rage, to kill everyone on this battlefield. But all you could do was scream. Scream and scream and never stop. Ace was going to die right in front of you.

As the blades fell swiftly, your last thought was that it was all for nothing. And then an overwhelming presence washed over you, knocking you into unconsciousness.

--

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[kit-williams]

Black Templars with Bonds

So a quick note is that I kind of headcanon that Black Templars with weak bonds tend to try and break them by getting as far as they can from their human till the bond "snaps". ALSO dates from WHEN Roland is from are not canon for Yandere Space Marine AU.

Unfortunately for Cedric @sleepyfan-blog's boy he's meeting two bonded Black Templars with both intense bonds.

Arnault is originally the Bodice Ripper Author from this story

Brother Roland is originally from Yandere Space Marine AU.

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

They had managed to find some Black Templars willing to come meet their "baby" brother. Neither Roland nor Arnault had heard of Primaris marines as they were from M41 and M40 respectively. However, they were told their battle brother was suffering and until they could get in contact with the "feral" ""warband"" of Black Templars he was completely alone. The Chaplain decided that it was best for his mental wellbeing to have at least some of his brothers meet him... even if they had more intense bonds then most marines.

Roland arrived first at the base. His eyes flick over Cedric in that typical appraising manner, he was out of armor wearing civilian looking clothing with a white shirt with large black cross over the center and black pants. He hummed at the end of his appraisal and passed him a large loaf of sourdough. "Its bread. It's good. It's made fresh by my human." Roland bit back the fact that it's made with love but he didn't want to overwhelm the young battle brother.

Though it didn't take Arnault long to appear and Roland sighed as while Roland kept his hair short Arnault let his white hair grow a little longer. As the incident involving the Black Templars he originally with made him a social pariah with any other Black Templars in the area but he was still a son of Dorn at the end of the day given the sword strapped to his hip but his clothes were a bit more fitted and nicer than what Roland wore. When his eyes met Cedrics he could see that cold calculation and appraisal flick into them as he judged the Primaris. "So you're the young battle brother that was dropped into the world in nothing but his night clothes." Arnault pointed out what he was told.

"Yes sir." Cedric said, causing Roland to scoff as he gave Arnault the side eye.

"He's polite." Arnault says.

"Yes, far more than you probably deserve." Roland said.

Arnault laughed as they switched to the local language and Cedric watched as Roland punched Arnault in the arm before they resumed in Gothic. Roland's arms folded over his chest and Arnault standing there, "You really are wound up tight." Roland points out as he had expected Cedric to start eating the bread as it smelt good.

The nervous look returned to Cedric's eyes and the two older black templars looked at him worried.

"Um, so what's your favorite food?" Arnault tried to break the ice.

"Nutrient paste?" Cedric replied confused as Roland just groaned.

"Have you been allowed out?" He asks.

"No sir. I've been confined on base since attacking a... patient." He hisses.

"Right Unbonded." They both said in unison.

"Well little," Arnault looked up at Cedric with a smirk, "battle brother you've got Brother Roland and myself Brother Arnault in the area to help keep you company. Now lets go enjoy the Brot that Bruder Roland brought." Arnault slips into that familiar Black Templar accent.

When they noticed him walking behind them the two forced Cedric to walk beside them as they were unwilling to talk behind themselves to a proper brother.

[dirtytransmasc]

Hi! I’m really sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you had any Aegon x Helaena x Aemond hcs? They circle my mind all day everyday lol!!

not a bother at all, I would never give up an opportunity to talk about our holy trifecta, as they plauge my mind day in and day out. so here are my Helaegond HC's (most of these are very soft and domestic and have no particular order)

Aemond got dragged into their relationship when Aegon noticed how glum he and hel were after the betrothal and wedding. he hoped letting them be together would make everything easier. it did. what he didn't know what just how much he could love his siblings. it doesn't take them long to realize maybe a three headed dragon was better than a two headed one, so to speak.

Aegon is needy as all hell. when it comes to receiving affections, he needs touch and quality time and words of affirmation, he needs it all the love and his siblings are so willing to give it him. Helaena likes to dote on him, whereas Aemond will 'give in' to his whining and begging (he secretly loves it, he's just an ass to the untrained eye)

Aemond is the most distant when it comes to receiving affections, which his brother and sister will not allow. they find he enjoys quality time the most, but touch is not unwelcome, and they make sure he feels welcome to ask for attention. its an ongoing battle to get that boy to allow himself attention, but they're armed, ready, and down for a challange.

Helaena likes gifts, body doubling, and quality times but in the nuerodivergent ways. gifts could mean giving her boys a pretty rock or a random trinket she found, or being given a new insect or oddity. quality time could be one of her boys heads in her lap as she talked about her latest favorite bug. she does like touch, just at certain times and in certain ways.

the boys keep every gift she gives them and makes sure to put them somewhere that she can see so she knows they care about them. they will also go to great lengths to fetch her bugs.

they are mischeivious, Aegon and Helaena more than Aemond, but he'll play along. they're always exploring the secret passage ways, stealing snacks from the kitchen, or escaping to Flea Bottom cause they're bored. Aemond is the voice of reason and uses his "mommy's favorite" privileges to get them out of trouble.

Aegon and Helaena share a room as they are officially betrothed, but Aemond always sneaks in during the night. Aegon needs to be spooned... by both of them, so he's always squeezed in the middle. he tends to use Helaena as a pillow, while altching onto his brothers arms as they wrap around his middle. Helaena likes to play with the boys's hair as they fall asleep, muttering feather light words that serve as a bit of a lullaby. Aemond, who is perpetually on guard (the other two try and make him less tense, but its to little avail most times) is the last to fall asleep, only after he's sure his siblings are safe and sound in their dreams. he's the one who holds the three together, literally, taking hold of both his brother and sister in a gentle but still vice grip, safely tucked under the covers.

Aegon and Aemond take turns being the insecure sibling. Aegon always doubts himself, his ability to love and be loved, to not let his drinking get out of hand again, that he can be a good brother. Aemond worries he is not enough, that he is invading Aegon and Helaena's marriage, that he was destined to be the second choice, that he will always be behind the others, that his scars are ugly. Helaena is always good at pulling them out of their heads, but so are the boys, at least the one not currently spiralling. those are the nights they stay up late, tangled together in a heap, bathed in moonlight. its not always words that are needed, just softness. other nights they will go over each and every one of their siblings perfectections and perfect imperfections, until all their minds are at ease.

Helaena loves going to Flea Bottom, more than either of her brothers could ever imagine. she loves the colors and the sounds and the vibe of all the people bustling around. she's someone who can see the art and divinity in just about anything, so going to see bustling marketplaces, nude shows, and crowded pleasure houses always leaves her with something philosophical to say that throws the boys through a loop. finding out their sweet sister was not so innocent or naive as she always most to view her was quite a surprise. its even better for her cause she has two guard dogs for brothers who make sure her visit goes undisturbed.

they will evade their duties for a day to go out on dragonback to find somewhere to hide away and have a day in the sun. they typically find a soft prairie to land in and lay out in the grass together until it gets late. they end up playing childish games like tag (normally Aegon starts that game, typically by annoying Aemond) or hide and seek.

most of the public has a sneakign suspicion that something is going on between the three, cause Aemond is always a tad too close to the couple than what is considered "normal" for a brother to be. for example, instead of taking his own seat at an event, he will sit with the pair or stand right behind them, giving them little space. Aegon always seems a little too touchy, too eager to hang off his brother or reach for her hand. Helaena is similar, allowing both of them inter her space when prior to truly falling for aegon, and aegon for her (as their was resentment after the forced betrothal, though not for each other, it took time for them to truly take to one another), she would barely allow anyone as close to her as she allowed the two of them. no one says anything though, for different reasons. many suspect and/or fear they will be a repeat of Aegon the Conquorer and his sister wives, which they are easily amused by.

there mother most likely knows, but also doesn't say anything. she knows if she tries to put a stop to it, they will only double down. if she supports it, they might become even more of a disaster. there's a silent agreement that no one says anything, for all of their sakes.

Aegon calls Helaena 'laena' whereas Aemond calls her 'hel". Aegon typically gets shortened to 'aeg' and Aemond to just 'aem' but if Aegon wants to annoy him he'll call him 'aemy' (he has a death wish possibly)

they all use pet names, but mostly Aegon. he loves to see 'laena smile over being called his dearest wife or love or queen. he likes seeing Aemond fluster over being called sweetheart. Helaena also uses pet names, typically simple things like love and dear. Aemond uses titles as petnames, cause the power dynamic gets him going, "sweet brother" "sweet sister" "my king" "my queen".

the boys being very doting and sweet during her pregnancy, wanting nothing more than to serve her every beck and call. both boys being absolute disasters when Helaena was delivering the babes, pacing her corridor when she kicked them out and holding her hands faithfully when she requests them, both scared shitless.

taking care of the kids is honestly their idea of bonding and strengthening their relationship. adding more little bodies to their cuddle pile at night. getting to bathe the kids together or struggling to make it through a meal without a mess. one of the three reading to both their siblings and their kids until they fall asleep. being parents is so fulfilling and doing it together makes them feel more connected.

Helaena having both her boys on a leash. they both essentially serve her willingly.

Aegon is sweet on his siblings, not always as brash as some would expect of him. he likes to hold Helaena's hand, just cause, or to kiss Aemonds eye when they're in private. he's not against a hug either, longing for intimate closeness that isn't sex.

the boys are experts in bugs cause they love listening to their site talk, so they've just picked up knowledge as times gone on.

when nervous or upset or stressed and on their own at the time, they tend to run their fingers over their wedding scars (they did it themselves without a Maester to help or advise them, and it was a bit of a heart of the moment sort of thing, so they accidently cut a bit to deep or too long, leaving them with distinct scarring between them). Aegon tends to pick at his lip where a little white scar hangs off the edge of his lip, ever so slightly raised. Helaena rubs at curve of her thumb and forefinger where her skin shines in the light. Aemond traces the length of the scar on his palm, back and forth, back and forth. they remember they have each other.

Aegon doesn't like to read but likes being read to. Hel and Aemond are always willing to read to him.

Hel likes to dance and her boys make sure to always indulge her. Aegon's not the best dancer. but the childish air of laughter is always worth it. Aemond certainly less clumsy, but stiff as a bored, which typically turns to playful teasing and childish arguing between him and Aegon.

Aemonds very protective and a bit possessive of his siblings, which gives them scary dog privileges (if he was scary in canon, he's terrifying with them as a throuple).

vaugely erotic sword training in the courtyard between Aemond and Aegon, Hel watching from the grass with her spider friend.

[spice below the cut cause I'm in the mood and have concepts I need to dump out of my head for my own well being]

Sex is frequent amongst them, especially as time passes and they become a strongly woven throuple. Aegon is forever eager, ready to be whatever he's needed to be; submissive, dominant, something in between. he just wants to touch and feel pleasure. Helaena is more reserved, but not against it at all, finding it to be a very sensual and emotional thing that is sacred to her and her brothers. Aemond is again, insecure that he's an intruder, but with a little bit of guidance, finds his confidence.

there is worry of bastards, but that only leads to the discussion of true valyrian marriage between the three of them. lets just say sexy blood rituals comense.

Aegon is easily the most skilled, so for the first couple times he's typically taking a guiding role. he knows all the little tips and tricks to getting his siblings off. he's also the most mouthy and uses his teeth a lot, especially when it comes to his brother. he's softer with their sister and lets himself be commanded around, service dom style. willing to get his hand (and mouth) messy.

Helaana is like a feather, light and soft, fluttering against her brother's skin, making them squirm with ease. she's also really good at dirty talk, but in such a regal and delicate manner. she can be quite bossy, but her boys are well behaved so it normally doesn't take much to get them to listen.

once Aemond is confident in his position he is very... mission focused. he's the one who tends to put Aegon on his back and really cultivates that needy subby side in him that Helaena had only began to uncover by the time he joined the pair. definitely the physically strongest of them all with a whole hell of a lot of stamina. he can take Hel and Aegon a few times before tucking out.

Aegon's loud as hell, gripping the sheets and not holding back a single sound. Hel's a bit quieter, but not silent. Aemond's gotta have all the right buttons pushed to hear a sound out of him (aegon see's this as a challenge)

Aegon cries every time they have sex. its just sorta his thing. its a big emotional release so he always ends up a little teary eyed.

aftercare typically consists of a nice long bath and cuddles.

[the-marshals-wife]

Alright, I am in love with Wrecker having kids of his own. 🥺 he'd be such a sweet dad and I can't wait to see the rest of the batch as fathers! I was wondering though, would you ever do this for the 501st or any other clones? Cause I'd be here for it for sure 🥺💕💖 Especially if you did Hardcase becoming a dad, that goof ball would be adorable ahhh! Anyways, I can't wait to read the rest of the batch!! 😭💖💕💞💖💕💞

A/N: Oh my goodness yes, time for some Hardcase representation! I think there'd be a lot of similarities between Wrecker's and Hardcase's parenting styles. Thank you for your continued support of my writing and blog! 💙

Having A Child With Hardcase Would Include

Description: Hardcase x Fem!Reader. As with my other clone headcanons/preferences, it's a Y/N insert story with the number of children I envision reader and Hardcase having.

Rating: General audiences (with a spicy reference if you squint), AU fluffiness where Umbara turns out different and this sweetheart gets the life he deserves 😌

Gif credit: user rexsjaigeyes

There is never a dull moment with Hardcase

If you thought parenthood was going to slow him down in any way, no you didn't

Becoming a father only amplified his playful, witty personality, something you didn't think was scientifically possible

When you told him you were pregnant, he all but bounced off the walls

Hardcase was "so kriffin' excited" to become a dad

He said exactly that to every person that crossed his path for weeks on end, especially his brothers

"How did I get so lucky? I can't believe it."

("Me either. Y/N actually thinks the galaxy can survive a smaller, louder version of you" - Fives, probably)

You were admittedly a bit nervous about becoming a parent, but as always, Hardcase had no fear

He tackled the learning curve head on, and it brought you so much joy and confidence to see his paternal instincts kick in as you both prepared for the arrival of your little one

Suddenly, he was aware of every hazard he'd never paid attention to himself, and in just a few hours, he completely baby-proofed every inch of your apartment

He even kept track of the days in your pregnancy, counting down to your expected due date

He loves (to attempt) cooking for you

Is he great at it? No. Did he burn everything at first and almost set your kitchen on fire three times? Definitely. Did he get better with practice and learn to make your favorite foods just the way you like them? Absolutely

Lots of cuddles watching holos together

Whenever he had to leave for the day, he would always kiss you first and then your growing belly

"Can't leave without telling our baby goodbye."

You adore how much he says that - our baby - and how much he's already devoted to being a dad

On your difficult pregnancy days, he would always be by your side to talk to you and tell you jokes until you were smiling again

Love At First Sight

From the moment your daughter was born, he was wrapped around her little finger

"She's so beautiful. Look what we made. No growth chamber or anything."

You jokingly reminded him that that was technically your role

"Oh...right. Of course. Great job! Not a single crack in the jar. Better than Kamino!"

In the weeks after your daughter was born, it was a battle to get Hardcase to put her down, literally

"Where I go, she goes."

Many naptimes were spent on her daddy's chest because he simply didn't want to let her out of his sight

(Sorry to report that diapers are you division, though. You just can't put your poor darlings through that again...)

Seeing him dote on your little girl so much only made you fall in love with him more; you were proud to call him the father of your children

Oh yes, children. You weren't done adding to the ranks of your little battalion, and neither was your cyare

A year and a half later, you gave birth to not one, but two sons

More than a few tears were shed as Hardcase held the twins in his arms

You better believe he was telling everyone about it too, calling many of his brothers to share the news before you even left the hospital

("We're doomed" - Fives again, probably)

How do you do, fellow kids?

Hardcase is a child himself at heart, which means he is your children's first and favorite best friend

Whatever they're interested in, you can bet he's into it too

He watches more children's holos with them than you do, and you're the one who stays home

Seriously, he knows all the words to the theme songs, the lore for each show, and the powers and skills of every character - it's a big thing that he and the kids bond over

Boredom is not a word in your house

Whatever your children ask for, Hardcase ensures they get (within reason)

He's likely getting something for himself too, especially if it's sweets

They want to build model starships? He's first in line at the market in the morning to get the kits

Your daughter wants to play dolls? You better believe her daddy is on that floor doing the right voices and following the story lines (and maybe causing the occasional pretend explosion or starship crash because he lives for the Drama™)

They all want to turn the livingroom into a battlefield to fight imaginary droids? Guess who their commander is

"Why not promote myself? I earned it!"- Hardcase when you teasingly pointed out his new rank

You enjoy getting in on the fun too and being the Zillo Beast attacking the barracks or the queen taken hostage that the dashing commander and his squad have to rescue from a den of bounty hunters

I cannot stress this enough: ANTICS

Pillow fights and roughhousing? HE probably started it

He's taking the fall for it too, because he'd rather face a firing squad than see any of his little troopers in trouble

In the everyday domestic disputes, discipline obviously begins and ends with you

You had to convince him that timeouts were not equivalent to capital punishment

Even then, you have to stop him from letting the kids out early

Bed times? What are those?

Speaking of bed, you had to invest in a bigger one because your beloved couldn't bear sending any of the kids away when they wanted to sleep with mom and dad

Seriously, he cannot say no to his babies

No night is complete with out tickle fights, either

Despite often having a foot in your ribs (which doesn't always belong to a child), you actually love sleeping with your family near and wouldn't have it any other way

Exception: the kids get sent to their own beds immediately when mommy wants a tickle fight with daddy. Commander's orders.

It's not only fun and games

With a little coaching from you, Hardcase was able to find balance between work and play, especially as the kids entered adolescence

It's not his strong suit, but he genuinely tries to help them with their academy studies (eventually they learn to go to you first; dad is for times of desperation only)

He is, however, at the ready any time they need a good joke or exciting story to brighten their day and banish their stress

Family holo night is mandatory

There's usually bickering over what to watch - i.e. your partner and offspring are disputing which loud, brightly-colored animated holo to put on - but diplomacy resumes as soon you bring the snacks out

Sometimes you just can't help but laugh and watch the chaos

All of your children certainly inherited their father's bold enthusiasm for life and passionate courage

When your daughter began to experience bullying at academy for standing up for a friend, Hardcase wasted no time expressing how proud he was of her for doing what's right

He was equally supportive of the boys when they later showed interest in weapons training and possible careers in the military

Just as when they were younger, he is always there for them to make them smile and feel secure and loved

There's no limit to what Hardcase will do for his family, and you wouldn't trade one day of your beautiful, whirlwind life with him for anything in the galaxy

[rubberduckrobin]

𝗦𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱.

Fandom: Obey Me!

Summary: The brothers bickering, as usual. But this time it comes at the cost of a life.

Word count: Around 1k.

Authors note: This was originally meant to be a knights/princesses sort of thing but I wanted an epic battle with a dragon... but I also wanted it to be sad, so here we are.

[R/N stands for Readers name.]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55778944

TW/Content warnings: Injury/gore, blood, death.

[GIF from IceGif.com. This does not belong to me.]

It looms over you. 

You'd seen dragons as tameable, beautiful creatures. A staple of fantasy, the only harm they bring being fear - for the purpose of narrative; the romanticisation of them in the books you read and the games you play lessened the thoughts in the back of your mind that if it were a real being, without a ‘hero’ to save you a dragon could kill. And what’s even scarier is that most of the time it has no motive, because at the end of the day it’s an animal born into the world blind - as everyone is - relying purely on instinct.

The dragon before you is not the kind from fiction. You need to now delve deep into the drowned thoughts: the realistic. It’s real and it’s standing in front of you, defensively as if you are the threat. Because, essentially, you are in its instinctual-driven perspective - survival of the fittest.

And as its form, almost quadruple the size of you, towers up between you and the Devildom sky, you realise that stories are rose-tinted from the imagination, and that the reality is blinds you with tears. Never would you have thought them to be true blood lusting and ravenous beasts. 

You were entranced by it, a deer in bright headlights, and because of this were brought into its territory as its next prey; now you need to fight back.  

It was foolish of you to approach it, to be your own ‘hero’, but you had nowhere else to go. 

If it were a perfect fantasy world, you would threaten to slay the dragon, but instead caress its 'smooth' scales and hush it to calm, the world brought to applause - but this is the Devildom, and the closest you are to being saved by a ‘hero’, other than yourself, is a last minute arrival of one, or all, of the brothers. A reliance on a close scrape is all you have.

Your flesh loathes the gaping claw wounds as they tease you, trying to rip themselves off of your skin, before you do it yourself, no longer able to endure the agony. 

It hasn’t yet torn you apart but it’s taking your strength. You’ve now turned to foetal, curled up into a ball, clutching the lines of the bloody split carved into your stomach, the rocks of the ground adding to your agony.

The dragon has so far only managed to scratch you twice, pick you up by its claws and drop you from half its height, but it’s enough to make your body surrender. But no, not your mind; it’s still clinging onto the hope that somebody - it doesn’t even have to be one of the brothers - somebody is coming.  

Excruciating. Hot streamed sweat and blood boils the wounds, streams into your eyes and you are not sure whether you’re blinded by this or by the tears cascading down your face like bullets. 

You can hear muffled voices.

It burns, it burns. The blur turns red. Is it now blood or is it flame around you from the dragon's breath? The only thing the stories and games were right about. This is crazy - dragons are real, just not tameable, beautiful. Only partially beautiful. You were entranced. But now you see the ugly in its sharp skin, the tangled, matted, burning, smoking fur and you can hear its furious empty growls.

It slashes you, again, then curls you around its nails. It drops you, again. Your breath hitches. Over and over. Over and over. It’s not steadying, it embodies the panic you feel. The ash blocks your nose. You have to breathe through gritted teeth. 

It stops.

Not the pain, but the dragon. Why is the dragon now just watching you? 

You turn. 

No, it’s not watching you. 

Four of the brothers are there, almost as expected.

“I was ‘ere first, back off! I can do it myself!” Mammon.

“I’ll save them!” Leviathan.

“I need to be the one to save them. I need to apologise.” Satan.

“Can’t you guys see that just fighting each other is not going to fight the dragon?” Asmodeus.

Magic takes concentration, and it’s not something they’ll have if they continue to bicker; in a perfect world, they would all work together. 

You realise that this might be your own last fighting moment, so you take the dragon's distraction as a chance to run, and where else would you run to, other than into their arms?

You choke on the things you long to ask: if they were there the entire time, why didn’t they act sooner? Aren’t they strong enough? 

Your breath catches up to the pace of your feet - the dragon is not yet defeated and is growing impatient. 

The first to catch you is Mammon.

“R/N!” 

He’s shaking, and as you grasp for the rest of them, you realise they all are. Or maybe it’s just you. 

“Ah, you’re bleedin’, you’re bleedin’! Alright, R/N, we’re ‘ere. I promise ya you’ll be alright.”

They didn’t act soon enough. In the absence of their action, you feel even more of your strength fading. 

You turn to your knees, limp.

“Woah! Woah! R/N! Are you okay?” 

More arrive. The dragon watches keenly.

“Idiots! Why didn’t you do anything? Idiots, idiots!” It’s all Belphegor can say. He's loud and this taunts the already-ringing deafness in your ears.

Beelzebub remains silent. Frozen in fear…but you know it's not the dragon. You know deep down that it's because he’s scared of losing you. Like he did with Lilith. 

And he doesn’t know it’s your fault not his. 

“Everyone. Leave. With R/N. Now.”

“Oh, great. Lucifer gets to save the day, as usual.” Does Satan not care?

“Then let's all do it then, for fucks sake.” Belphie cares, you know this. But he's making things worse - everyone is. 

The only people left in your embrace are Asmodeus and Leviathan, but it's grown less comforting over time as they realise the severity of your wounds and also as the tension increases.

Your bloodied hands stain their shirts as they drift away from your touch to confront the dragon.

You reach out to them, unable to do much more.

“I said leave, did I not?” Lucifer is tired. You know he is.

 Will any of them ever defeat this dragon?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

The dragon is defeated, but at what cost? 

You hear the dragons’ wail and thud as it collapses. You see the flash of light from the magic. You watch all of the brothers turn to you. 

You see Diavolo arrive. You see him point at you, an expression never seen on a king's face before.

Why is he pointing at you? You can’t tell through your half-shut eyelids.

Your blood is warm, the ground is cold. Your head hitting the ground from the side.

Your last feeling is the blood dripping from your forehead. Your last smell, the blood. Your last taste is metallic. Your last sound is lost voices.

Your last sight, your heroes. 

​🇦​​🇧​​🇴​​🇺​​🇹​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​

​🇹​​🇺​​🇲​​🇧​​🇱​​🇷​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​

[the-bastard-and-the-pup]

I wrote a birthday present and I am making it everybody's problem

It's the birthday of fandom treasure @goylempire ! Your mom deserves delicious Brot for blessing the world with you and I hope you enjoy your gift. Heart of my heart, I wish you all the blessings, happiness and general good things for the new decade!

"Under the fabric of reality, there are the Weaver's threads, connecting and creating everything. Most of the time, these threads are invisible to most living things.

But there are those connected by the Golden Yarn, a thread between those who share a love so deep that it is a part of the very threads forming the universe. That kind of love can grow into existence over time, but there are also those that are connected to someone from the moment of their birth. The Golden Yarn is weaved so tightly into their being that any scar marring the skin of the one shows itself as the Golden Yarn on the skin of the other. You will feel the pain of their injuries and bear the mark of their scars so that you may recognise each other one day."

"Does that mean there will be gold on my skin one day? Do I have someone like that, too?"

"I am sure of it, heart of my heart."

.......

A young woman in Vena prays as more and more Golden marks appear on her skin. Prays that fate will not take her soulmate from this world before she has a chance to meet them.

.......

A man wakes up screaming as a lifetime of pain tears through his body. He tells himself he should know better than to search his black and green skin for gold, but a deep part of his heart still wants to believe in miracles. And for once, a miracle has come to him. Leaving only the question why the connection had not formed until now.

.......

A pale, six-fingered hand brushes a lily petal off her hand, revealing a line of gold over her palm. Her sisters look at her with disgust and mortification and something that is almost pity, but the Fairy does not see them in this moment. She watches as the gold seems to gleam with a light that makes that of the stars seem dull, cold and distant.

......

The man wants to make his own way in the world, unburdened by fate. He does not think of the line of gold that circles around his leg as though left there by a trap. He runs as though he could outrun his own soul.

.......

The fur hides her all too human worries and feelings. Like it hides the gold on her skin. The vixen stays at the lake, licking wounds she knows aren't on her own body. At least the pain tells her he is still alive.

........

He feels like it's a cruel twist of fate. To bear the marks of her scars, only to find that her skin and soul are claimed by someone else.

........

He doesn't know what it means. The pain, he had attributed to entering a new world. But when washing, a shimmer of gold on his arm caught his attention. He scrubbed at it to see if it would come off, but it didn't and somehow, this was a relief to him. When he asks his brother, he refuses to answer.

.......

He didn't know what he had expected. Golden marks suddenly appearing on his skin, welcoming him to the world he truly belonged to? Nothing of the sort, of course not. Not for him. He wonders if she had been his soulmate after all. He'll never know. He had left her behind in another world.

......

A sting on his palms and knees that wouldn't even had register among his numerous battle wounds from fighting the Onyx patrol. His body is wounded, but it is young and strong. Except he later finds tiny specks of gold in the brown stone of his skin. He imagines how a person would sustain an injury like that. Oh great. His soulmate is a bloody toddler.

......

Seeing her for the first time is nothing like looking into a mirror, contrary to what Hentzau had been told all his life. He knows very well what he sees in a mirror. He knows he is a weapon, old and brittle from too many battles, but still about good enough for slaying enemies. He has always borne his damage as what it was, received and displayed in the defiant act of proving he was still alive.

There was so little gold on his own body that it was too easy not to think about the gold on another's.

His scars are golden marks on her skin, but she isn't damaged. She has lived a relatively soft life, only marred by the fact that the universe had made the mistake of linking them together. He can see her recognising him the moment their eyes meet and how could she not? It's not like she could be possibly able to not notice his scars. When she kneeled down in front of him, he noticed the way she was pressing her hand against her side, mirroring the wound that had lead to him having to lean against this tree now.

As the pain pushed him further and further towards unconsciousness, he wonders if she is even real, or if his mind mocks him in his dying moments by conjuring up a human soulmate, of all things.

She turns out to be real. She and the care with which she dresses his wounds. She and her questions about himself and his life that don't stop coming, not even when she doesn't receive answers. Which she doesn't seem to bothered by, until she asks a final question.

"Can I see you again?" With anxiety in her voice and tentative hope in her eyes. This woman who had been forced to feel his pain all her life and didn't despise him for it. Who still wanted to know him. A human who had, upon finding out she was connected to a Goyl, hadn't shied away from the revelation and instead just seemed happy to have met him.

The possibility of someone loving him had seemed so wild and far away all these years. But here she was. Waiting for him to take a leap of faith she couldn't even fathom.

"If the army of your empress doesn't manage to finish what it tried to start, then yes." There. Maybe death would take the choice off his hands. But judging by the level of incompetence the human soldiers had displayed thus far, he doesn't expect it. He turns to leave and she, probably without thinking, reached out and took his hand. This skin on skin contact does many things to his insides and by far not all of them are unease at how soft her skin is.

"Then I hope they don't", she says softly and lets go. Letting him leave without trying to make him acknowledge her words in any way. And in that moment, he knew that she would give him all the time he'd need. Because somehow, she had come to the conclusion that he would be worth waiting for.

The army of the empress fails and the Goyl win. When Therese sends her capitulation, the goyl gather in celebration.

[colemonroe]

WHERE: Sons of Silence Clubhouse; January 1, 2023 WITH: Closed

Urgent meetings were becoming more and more commonplace for the Sons of Silence Tonopah charter. Like clockwork, they seemed to follow closely behind every town event and the New Year's Eve debacle was no exception. An officer and an innocent woman had been shot and were in critical condition and whoever pulled the trigger was still at large. If that didn’t demand a meeting at the reaper’s table, Cole didn’t know what did. Since their inception in 1978, the Sons of Silence had existed as protectors in Tonopah Falls– a group of outlaws willing to do what the law wouldn’t in order to keep the other townspeople safe. In the last few years, it was safe to say the Sons had lost sight of that. His predecessor had allowed greed and corruption to stand in the way of their original vision. Now more than ever, it was important for them to rein it back in. 

"As many of ya know, Shepherd Decker and Kate McNulty were shot at the Metro last night,” Cole started, clasping his hands together on top of the table, "They're both critical. As of right now, there ain't any witnesses." Shaking his head, he let out a long, strained sigh that only conveyed half of the frustration he felt, “PD don’t know shit, per usual.” That seemed to be the running theme– not just over the last few months, but for as long as Cole remembered. There was little to no faith in the local law, which was precisely why the Sons continued to be such a strong staple in the small Nevada town. 

"I called y’all here ‘cause last night, Sawyer Decker asked me to look into it,” he announced, shifting a bit in his seat. Their conversation at the hospital had been brief, but they’d said plenty. “This club’s got a longstandin’ history of lookin’ out for this town, doin’ what local PD won’t. People haven’t forgotten that,” Cole continued, glancing around the table. “But there’s somethin’ else, somethin’ that hits a little closer to home.” He let that settle for a moment, already anticipating looks of surprise and confusion from everyone other than the three Sons who already knew part of what Cole was about to divulge to the rest of the table. 

"A couple months ago, my aunt gave me a lockbox that my mom left behind. It was mostly just a bunch of pictures and letters, but there was a paternity test too,” he began, head shaking. "Jeffrey Decker was my father." Cole thought that over time, admitting that might come a little easier to him, but it hadn’t so far. The sting of it was still as fresh as it had been the moment he’d found out, and he was beginning to think it always would be. But he’d dwell on that later, not when there was a full table in front of him.

Glancing around the table, Cole straightened in his seat and unleashed a strained sigh, “Sawyer wasn’t just askin’ me as a Son…she was askin’ me as her brother. I needed ya to know the truth movin’ forward.” There was no way he could ask them to vote on this without being transparent with them and letting them know exactly what he was asking, and why. It stopped there, though. The rest of the table didn’t need to know what Nate, Joel, and Riley did— that he’d been the one to take Jeffrey Decker’s life. Knowing that truth wouldn’t help them now and they had far bigger battles staring them in the face. 

“I’d be lyin’ if I said this wasn’t personal for me,” Cole continued, reaching for the gavel that sat just off to the left. Picking it up, he studied the wooden grooves and the small chips that had been left there by former presidents. Cole felt the weight of it in his hands— but more than that, he felt the weight of it in his heart. From the moment he’d first picked it up over two years ago, he’d sworn he’d never ask the table to take on his personal burdens, but this went deeper than that. Something rotten was poisoning their town and they needed to snuff it out before it festered inside of everything and everyone they loved. “But it ain’t just about justice for my brother.” Shaking his head, he set the gavel back down on the tabletop, “It’s about this whole town and stoppin’ whatever is tryin’ to smoke us out.” Clearing his throat, he leaned back in his seat, blue eyes finding each and every one of their gazes, “I’ve agreed to help Sawyer regardless— she’s family,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders. There’d been no hesitation when he’d answered her, no scenario in his mind that didn’t see him by her side, fighting for Shepherd. Even if he had to do it alone, there was no way he could rest until the person who did this was brought to their brand of justice— although without help, he knew it’d take much longer. But he wasn’t about to speak for the club, or sign them up for something without a vote. “But you decide if it’s right for you, and for this club. Whatever ya decide, I’ll respect.”

( note; while this is a closed para, if you write a patched member, and you would like to reply with a para of your character's thoughts and then wrap it with an ending that says their vote, you are MORE than welcome to! )

[hopeaterart]

...you know, I was kinda wondering if even the Foot couldn’t stand Hun and were looking for an excuse to get rid of him even before the turtles showed up, and I think I have my answer! You know you’re a terrible person if you can’t even meet the moral standards set by THE SHREDDER.

This ask inspired me to write a little something under the cut. :) (trigger warning for death)

Karai walked into the interrogation room, her steps silent and multiple unconscious officers behind her. The cameras had been disabled for now, but she needed to be quick about this.

The man she had been sent for frowned when he saw her. "A Foot soldier?" He huffed a laugh, leering at her. "Where's your mask, little girl?"

"Hunter Mason." Karai greeted. She reached for one of her guns. "Let's cut to the chase: you're being executed."

"Wow- wow!" He exclaimed, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "The fuck did I do!?"

Karai raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Really? You need me to spell it out to you?"

"Yes! I ain't done nothing!"

"How about this, then: Used the resources of our Clan for your own benefits while doing the bare minimum on your side of things, repeatedly sexually harassed a fifteen years old, and got yourself and your operation blown wide open by a group of teenagers."

Hun scoffed. "Oh please, I never touched Angel! She's blowing it out of proportions."

"Kendra Jones and her brother would beg to differ. Words can hurt as badly as touch, you know?"

"Her brot- Casey!? He's one of the kids who fucked us over!" He snapped. "How come he's not getting a bullet in the head?"

"Correction: he fucked you over. The rest of the Foot Clan is fine, our agents have already destroyed all proofs of correspondence between us." She then frowned in disdain. "And I've read the reports of the battle. If all it takes for your operation to come crashing down is a teenage girl in a journalism club, a teenage boy with a grudge and a hockey stick, and a bunch of small yokais they've somehow befriended, then it says more about you than it says about them."

He scoffed. "Why do you even care about Angel, anyway? She's not a Foot member!"

"If my father can't trust his men to not control their urges, then he can't trust them with anything." Karai answered, before adding. "Oh, that's right! There's another offense: you've insulted a member of the Oroku family." Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she aimed her gun to his forehead. "I am not a little girl."

"You're the Shredder's…" Hun trailed off in horror, no doubt realizing how badly he had fucked up. "Wait- wait! I can- I can still be of use! I just- can't your father forgive failure?"

"Of course he can, he always gives second chances if he sees something as salvageable. It's why you weren't publically drawn and quartered when he came back." She hissed. "But there is nothing salvageable here. Sayonara, Hunter Mason."

She pulled the trigger, and the wall behind was painted red.

[vixthefantheorist]

Combat Data of Henrik Von Schneeplestein

I rolled a die and got Henrik to work on for a Combat based bio. Who should I write for next?

A/N: Vix here with a battle bio for the lovely good doctor, Henrik! Do keep in mind, these are bios focused on their battle capabilities mostly.

[Edit]: And I have combined some elements I thought was cute from the game Septiscape, that I'm one of the devs of. Just to add a splash of cute personality to him

Theme: N/A (I really need to find some music for the Egos)

Name: Henrik Von Schneeplestein

AKA: the Good Doctor

Age: 36-40 (I do see him as being a bit older than the other Egos)

Clothing: Always wears a set of surgeon's scrubs and labcoat… may or may not have a medical mask over his nose and mouth (how many sets of scrubs does this man have?); May also have a soft blue turtleneck shirt or sweater and tan slacks in place of scrubs, which is rare

Habits: 

Coffee is never far from his reach (I swear this man has nothing but coffee in his veins) 

Obsessed over equations of his work 

Bops other Egos with his bo-staff to keep them away from his instruments and work 

Has the habit of speaking and swearing in German when frustrated or very focused on his work 

Sleep barely exists to this man (but has been known to sleep at his desk, or the floor if he falls out of his chair. The other Egos tend to pick him up and carry him to his bed to sleep more properly)

On a number of occasions, Henrik has the habit of calling Chase, Kӓse Brot, by accident. Usually whenever his accent at his thickest and trying to address him or get his attention

Personality: Henrik is a bit of an eccentric, but a fairly level headed man. He’s a workaholic, often buried in his work to make one thing or another to work or solve a problem. An intelligent but cynical being to anything that isn’t very scientific in his mind, often trying to give logical reasonings to things that don’t make sense. Keyword: trying. It’s taken him a long time to remotely accept magic as a real thing but still has some trouble understanding it.

He’s earned a number of degrees in various science fields, namely those of time (this also gives reason why he holes up in his lab so much); though he has studied the ways of medicine, only to keep the other Egos alive. He can’t fathom how long they went on without a healer so he became it for their sakes. And because of this, he’s very strict about their health and wellbeing… especially to Chase with his tendency to do trickshots out of the oddest of things. Namely one incident involving a wheelchair and fireworks and stairs. (Never again, Chase)

But because of the amount of time he works in keeping them healthy, Henrik has grown to be a father-like figure or at least an older brother to them. This may have grown from his own yearning to see his own family that had left him years ago. 

Weapons: Bo Staff. Highly augmented by another Ego, Jameson Jackson, to attune itself to Henrik’s energy levels. 

Fighting Style: Mid-range only. Defensive/Support class.

He’s neither the strongest or fastest of the Egos, in fact, like Chase, he’s average in physical terms of strength and power. So instead of power, it's his skills as a doctor, scientist and skill in using the staff are what keep him alive (most of the time at least).

His staff uses hard light energy to change from staff to a polearm of a spear, though that is more of a last resort use in case Anti is gunning to kill him first. He’s adept in using the staff when combined with his medical knowledge, allows him to cause pain without damage to incapacitate his targets. There’s even slots within the staff that he uses to store toxins or tranquilizers to further enhance his chances to affect his enemies.

The staff being attuned to his energy levels, Henrik is able to ‘cast’ a healing pulse of energy over his allies to heal them or boost their speed at the cost of the caffeine levels in his system. (Yes, he gains power from drinking coffee, weird I know, but it's more of an energy boost than an actual power-up; which allows him to ‘cast’ for longer periods of time)

Weaknesses: Henrik has the worst defenses against the other Egos’ own powers, thus why he’s often behind them, throwing out healing and support. Except against Chase, where he can knock aside the guns to avoid being shot, but that’s if he’s fast enough. Speaking of which, his own ability to heal and boost the speed of others drains him heavily and must use it as effectively as possible without wasting it. Without caffeine, Henrik is unable to be of much help if awake at all, thus he carries around a thermos of coffee with him everywhere he goes. 

Relations: Chase [best friend], Jack [good friend], Jackie, Marvin [both friends], JJ [relaxation friend, as in he chitchats with JJ often], Anti [enemy]

Fears: Being replaced as the Doctor Ego, being abandoned by everyone, that everything he’s worked for is worthless to his friends and the world around him, loss of control of his life. His knowledge being used to hurt others, falling asleep but never waking up again, (it’s why he rarely sleeps himself)

[For the current moment, this report on the subject: Henrik Von Schneeplestein is up to date.]

*~*~*~*~*~

Hopefully, you guys enjoyed that! Still needs a bit more tweaking but this all just based on what information I have now of the Egos. And from that I just came up with the rest. The bios will change over time as I get more information of the Egos and alter the information in my AU.

[rh35211]

DEIMOS & PHOBOS - Greek Gods of Fear, Panic & Terror (Roman Metus, Pavor)

DEIMOS and PHOBOS were the gods or personified spirits (daimones) of fear. Deimos represented terror and dread, while his brother Phobos was panic, flight and rout. They were sons of the war-god Ares who accompanied their father into battle, driving his chariot and spreading fear in his wake.

[kbim]

Every Hero Has Their End(SWF)

During hero training at U.A, Y/N gets a disturbing phone call from home. And Bakugou Katsuki is there to soothe them however he can.

Warnings: Death, Established relationship, Comfort

PSA: I will be trying my best to make this a Gender-neutral and Quirk-Neutral Fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103730/chapters/69066837#workskin

      I've found out that the world is the most peaceful whenever I'm training at school; Watching as my classmates shout encouragements to each other, and knowing that right now, we are all oblivious to the chaos and bloodshed happening outside of these gym doors. Oblivious to how fast heroes are losing their grip on what faith the public has in them, and since All Might has stepped down they are losing it even faster.

"Oi, dumbass. You just gonna sit there and mope like an extra or are you gonna let me beat your ass to a pulp?" And this was my favorite part, the unbreakable wall of angry optimism; Bakugou. When I looked to face him he had poor Izuku in a headlock and was practically dragging him on the floor, Izuku was muttering about some kind of suit upgrade or maybe it was All Might? With him, it's always one of the two. "Cause this shitty nerd won't stop holding back."

I quickly flipped bakugou off. "Ya know that you don't need to call everyone names, it just makes you seem more like a kid" As I walked up to the pair I peeled Izuku from Bakugou's grasp, letting him drop to the floor. "And haven't you bullied Izuku enough." I reached my hand out to help him up. As he held onto my hand I could feel Bakugou's glare, he always hated it whenever I did 'relationship things' with other people. Even though this was just me helping the beating bag up.

"Thanks Y/N" Izuku quickly quipped out as he started whipping the dust and dirt off of his hero costume, unaware that he was still holding my hand. I didn't really care, I knew it was just an accident but I could feel Bakugou's glare shift down to where we were touching. He quickly stomped over and grabbed my wrist, ripping ti away from Izuku's.

"Tch. I thought I told you to stop touching TRASH." As Bakugou pulled you towards him he made sure that the last word was directed at Izuku, making sure it came off harsher. Izuku took the hint and left, quickly finding his squad over the other side of the gym. I gave a soft wave in his direction, as I did I could hear Bakugou huff and puff.

"You really need to work on your passiveness, I and Izuku are just friends. You know I have no interest in our class-mates." I patted his chest as I walked by him, going to continue my endurance training. Even though I was daydreaming and not really training, as I kicked at the rouble I made Bakugou came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. placing my arms on top of his I leaned into him. "And don't worry, the term 'Class-mate' extends to all of the other classes as well." That earned a small chuckle from him.

"As your boyfriend, I have the right to mark you as mine, AND to keep shitty nerds away from you." He moved his hands away from me and turned me to face him, as I looked up to him I spotted multiple spots where Izuku had hit him. I would never say it to his face but, Izuku isn't the little weak kid that he knew before U.A. "And anyways I really wanted to fight someone on MY level." At that his face morphed into a large smirk, he grabbed onto my shoulders and threw me to the left. I wasn't prepared for such a movement and landed on my side.

"Dude, WHAT THE FUCK?!" Leaning onto my elbow, I looked at him. "You could at least give me a god damn warning" He quickly stalked over to me and stood over me.

"Nah."

Well, what a wonderful boyfriend... If he wanted a fight I'll give him a fight. I leaned back and kicked my legs up behind him, which kicked him over my head. As my legs held their momentum I flipped over to lay on my hands, laying in a lower push-up position. As he landed on his hands he activated his quirk and flipped to land on his feet unharmed. I went to activate my quirk to push me onto my feet but I found myself unable to use it. When I looked over to Bakugou he was wrapped up in Mr.Aizawa's capture 'scarf'. I got up to walk over to the pair.

"Y/N, you have a phone call. And next time please make sure to silence your cellular device during school, it interrupted my nap." He handed me my phone, which was showing an active call from my mother. "Now please don't make me have to get up again"

As he turned and started walking away he let go of Bakugou and deactivated his own quirk. "THANK YOU SENSAI!" I pulled the phone up to my face and quickly greeted my mother.

"Hey Y/N, h-how are you?" I could hear the presentation in her voice.

"Um, I'm a good mom. Not to rush you but what's with the call during school?"

"*Sigh* Well, I and your father just got the news that..... That ..." I grumbled, she knew not to call me during class and this was just taking too long.

"What do you NEED mom?" Oof, that came out kinda harsh.

"Oh, um. I just wanted to tell you, that. Your brother was fighting a villain downtown, and that. . . The villain delivered an a-a fatal blow to his head. And t-that when the other h-heros f-f-found him he w-was pronounced d-d-d-dead on arrival."

I heard my phone hit the ground, and I could feel myself drop to my knees. I don't recall telling my body to do so but my hand slapped over my mouth as I started sobbing. This couldn't be true, my elder brother had just gotten out of hero school and was fighting with the pros. They couldn't have failed him like that.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Y/N was on the phone Kirishima had walked over to me, scolding me for the 'unmanly' move I pulled on Y/N. Saying a true man doesn't attack like that. I didn't care too much about it, in the heat of battle, a hero does everything they can to stop the villain. He doesn't have to be manly about it, he just has to get the job done. As I peaked around Shitty Hair I could see you drop your phone and fall onto your knees. Tears were streaming down your face, I could hear the muffled sobs from all the way over here.

As I grabbed Shitty Hair's shoulder a pushed him to the side, with much less force as when I did it to you earlier. I couldn't control what pace I was going at but I felt my feet hit the ground as I ran towards you. When I got closer to you I slid onto my knees to slow myself down, it was quite effective If I must say.

"Y/N?! What's wrong? Why are you crying?!" I pulled you into my chest and reached for your phone. The screen was cracked but I could still see the call active. I brought it up to my face. "Who are you and what the hell did you say to Y/N?!"

"I-i'm their mother, and I-I h-had informed them t-t-that their brot-t-ther had d-d-died in combat with a v-vll--ian today." Oh Shit. I hung up the phone and wrapped my arms around y/n, they sobbed into my hero suit. When the others run up around us I tightened my grip onto y/n.

"As the class rep, I deserve to know when one of our classmates are in trouble" "Bakugou! What's wrong with y/n?" "Did they get hurt?" "Oh shit man" "What should we do? "What happened?" "Kacchan What happened? "I bet Bakugou said something to them." "Ribbit, I'll get Mr. Aizawa"

"Back the FUCK off, they brother just fucking died man." y/n tensed up and started sobbing louder. I followed my brow and squeezed them. "Shit" I moved you to rest against my chest sideways and moved my arm to hold your bridal style. I stood up and pushed through the extras and made my way towards the gym doors. I could feel their tears soaking my suit, they gripped and released the loose cloth as a stepped through the doors. I could hear the others call after me but I had to intention of stopping for them.

When I got up from my room at the dorms and placed them down onto the bed. As I laid down next to them I covered us both with the blankets.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 15

Warnings: none really

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

The chime of the doorbell startles him awake; eyes snapping open, brain foggy and disoriented as it tries to figure out just what the noise was. The moment both the baby and Declan had started yawning and fussing, he’d laid down with them in the living room; Addie on his chest, his son tucked securely between him and the back of the couch. He’s certain he’d drifted off before either of them had; a hand placed protectively on Addie’s back; an arm wrapped his son. Lulled to sleep by the warmth of their bodies and the sound of their soft, steady breathing. The house quiet and peaceful. The three oldest at school, Esme out with her brother, and nothing but the sound of the ocean and the cool, steady breeze that filters through the windows. 

 The noise becomes more insistent, pausing momentarily before into one long, incessant tone. At first he reaches for his cell phone that rests on the coffee table, brain still attempting to straighten itself out and register exactly what the sound is, where it’s coming from, where he is, and even what day it is. He’d gone back on the Valium that morning as soon as the kids got on the bus, and it hit him almost immediately; making him drowsy and lightheaded, causing him to sweat profusely and develop a pounding headache. Now he feels as if his senses are impaired; sounds muffled as if he’s trying to hear underwater, his vision blurry.   And in a near euphoric state he thinks about how he never even knew they had a doorbell; or at least he didn’t know what it sounded like.  No one’s ever used it in the past six months that they’d been living there; delivery drivers and the postal carrier all resorting to knocking or leaving things on the chair by the front door; spurred on to do so by a handwritten letter Esme had taped to the mailbox that stated if anyone dared waked the baby or bothered her while feeding, there’d be ‘hell to pay’. 

 It becomes apparent that whoever is at the door isn’t going away, and he attempts to slip off the couch without waking either of the kids. Declan the biggest obstacle with his sweaty body and damp hair pressed tightly against him.  And he manages to slide his arm out from underneath the sleeping toddler, who only gives a loud, content sigh and rolls over, pressing his face into the cushions.  Then he stands, placing Addie in the portable playpen in the middle of the room and using a foot to push the coffee table out of the way in case Declan rolls over and falls off the couch. The last he needs is having to haul two kids to the hospital for a concussion or stitches. Or both.  

 As he heads for the door, he briefly considers grabbing some clothes and throwing them on; it would really set off the religious zealots that often travelled door to door if he was to answer in nothing but a pair of low slung boardshorts, body covered in a myriad of tattoos and scars. He’d already gone to the door once in the same fashion: a group startled and slightly scared little old ladies collecting things for a church food drive. But when he hears Addie begin to fuss, he decides against clothes, only caring about wanting to get the goddamn noise to stop. 

 When he finally answers, the blond on the other side of the door opens her mouth to speak, then abruptly stops; clamping her lips shut as her eyes widen and she slowly looks him up and down.  Normally he’d be self-conscious; that the once over is in nothing more than a mixture of shock and concern due to the number of scars that mar his body.  He’d never given a shit before; until his brain decided to turn against him and try and make his life a living hell. But there’s no curiosity or concern regarding his battle wounds; this once over was one of admiration. And he can’t stop the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

 “Who are you?” Tyler asks, checking the driveway for any unfamiliar cars, then glancing towards the woods and then down the road, checking to see if she was alone or if there was anyone lying in wait. 

  It’s a hell of a way to live; thinking everyone is the enemy.  But he’s stepped on a lot of toes and made a lot of enemies. And while you may physically leave the job, you’re never fully clear of it. Not until you die. Then and only then is your slate wiped clean. 

 “Never mind that,” she replies. “Who are YOU? The pool boy?” 

 He frowns. “What?” 

 “Well dressed like that. Looking like...that. I just assumed that maybe...” 

 “I live here,” Tyler informs her. 

 “With Esme and the husband?” 

 “I am the husband.” 

 “You?” she gives a started laugh. “You’re the husband?” 

 “For the last six and a half years.” 

 “Okay...hold up,” she chews pensively on her bottom lip, head cocked to the side as she regards him. “You’re Esme’s husband?” 

 “Am I not speaking English? I just said I was.” 

 “She told me her husband is retired.” 

 “Yeah? I am. And?” 

 “So I’m sure you can understand why this...why you...are a bit of a surprise. I was expecting someone that actually looks retired.  Someone a lot older. And someone not as...” she once more looks him over from head to toe. “...well, not so you.” 

 “Look,” he rakes his fingers through his messy hair and scratches at the back of his head. “Not to sound like a total dick...” 

 “Too late.” 

 “...but who the hell are you? And why are you on my doorstep?” 

 “I’m Salena.” 

 “The new neighbor.” 

 “The one and only,” she confirms, and holds out a hand. “And you’re Tyler.” 

 He nods, hesitating at first, then shaking the hand offered to him. “Why are you here?” 

 “I was hoping to see Esme. I come bearing gifts,” she holds up a reusable shopping bag. “I told her last night when we were texting that I made a killer Dorito taco salad that she needed to try and that I make some up. Enough for all of you. Is she home?” 

 “She’s out with her brother.” 

 “The cute firefighter,” she states. 

 Tyler shrugs. “If you say he’s cute I’ll take your word for it, I guess.” 

 “I had messaged her saying I was going to pop by, but I never heard back. So, I’d thought I’d just run over and see what’s up.” 

 “I’m honestly so confused right now. I just woke up and my brain isn’t functioning properly yet. How you even know my wife?” 

 “We’ve been hanging out. Since we met the other days when I was moving the last of my stuff. She was taking the two littlest ones for a walk and Declan saw my dog and got away from her...” 

 “Wait. You know Declan too?”  It was the one that he absolutely hated; Esme taking it upon herself to allow strangers around his kids. She’s too trusting; too quick to see the good in everyone yet not even stopping to look for the bad. He doesn’t trust anyone. Aside from her.  And regardless of what she thinks of how paranoid she thinks he’s is; everyone is a possible threat. 

 “He’s my absolute favorite. He’s just such a little charmer. That smile and those eyes? I can see where he gets them. The eyes. Not the smile because you haven’t cracked one once since you answered the door. You do smile right?” 

 “Look, I had a rough night. I barely slept. You woke me up.  I don’t even know what day it is right now, to be honest.” 

 “It’s Friday,” she informs him. “I’m the one that watched Declan yesterday. So Esme could have said time to herself. Well she had the baby.  I just thought maybe she needed a break. That’s a lot to handle. Five kids.” 

 He tries hard to hide the anger that seeps into his voice. “You watched my kid?” 

 Salena nods. 

 “Yet I don’t even know who you are. You watched my kid, yet this is the first time we’ve met. And you’ve been hanging out with my wife?” 

 “Yeah, you know. Lunch. Girl talk. Stuff like that. She didn’t tell you? It must have just slipped her mind. I know she has a lot going on. Do you know when she’ll be back?” 

 Tyler shakes his head. 

 “Is it okay if I wait here for her or...” 

 He arches an eyebrow. “Here?” 

 “Where else?” 

 “I don’t usually let women into the house when my wife’s not home. That’s how rumors and shit start and I don’t need any more drama in my life. So I don’t think that’s a good idea. And I’m kinda busy with the little ones so...” 

 “I could help,” Salena offers 

 “I don’t need help. I’m not a rookie. And there’s nothing down there for you,” he informs her, when her eyes wander below his waist. “So if you could just...I don’t know...stop.” 

 A slight blush creeps into her cheeks. “Do you always walk around in no underwear?” 

 “You always question what people do in their own house?” Tyler counters. 

 “Touche.” 

 “If you weren’t looking down there so much and so closely, you wouldn’t even know I wasn’t wearing any.” 

 “Oh, I’d know,” she boldly responds. “That’s kind of hard not to notice.” 

 “Is there a reason you’re here or...” 

 “Like I said, I’m here to see Esme.” 

 “And like I said, she’s not home. You’ll have to come back. Or call her. Or text. I dunno.  But I’ve got little ones in the next room, so...” 

 “Yes! Sorry! I won’t keep you any longer!” She offers the shopping bag and he reluctantly takes it.  “I just...wow...you are definitely NOT what I was expecting. At all. Wow. Okay, I’m gonna go. If I don’t hear from Esme, will you let her know I came by?” 

 “How am I going to know if you didn’t get in touch with her?” he asks, as he steps out onto the front porch, quickly checking the mail before once against surveying the road and for any sign of remotely suspicious activity along the tree line. 

 “That!” she points at him, as she walks backwards down the front walk, bumping into one of the recycling bins that sit at the curb, giving it an awkward apology and then giggling in embarrassment. “Is a very good point! I’m going to go now. I just...wow...totally not what I thought you were going to look like. And now I’m rambling and making a total fool out myself.” 

 “Just a bit,” Tyler agrees. 

  “Oh! She calls to him before he can step inside. “Weird question, I know. But did someone come to your door last night? Around two am? Because someone showed up at my place and knocked for like ten straight minutes.” 

 “That would have been my very drunk brother in law. I think he was looking for a hook up.” 

 “Well if that’s the case, tell him to come to the back door next time. I’ll answer for sure then.” 

 Tyler just smirks and shakes his head, both amused and annoyed by her honesty, and then closes the door behind him. 

 *** 

 “Maybe we can try this again,” Kyle says, as they settle into a table on the Sovereign's outdoor patio. “Maybe we can make it through the meal without fighting.” 

 “Technically we didn’t start fighting until after dinner,” Esme points out. 

 “And technically you were the only one causing a scene, so...” 

 “Fair enough,” she surrenders, and places her hobo style purse and her lone shopping back on the ground, cell phone on the tabletop. “This isn’t a set-up is it? I’m not going to get five minutes into lunch and Nik will show up?” 

 “Nik’s gone.” 

 Esme arches an eyebrow. 

 “Not gone, gone. So don’t get your hopes up. She got a call last night. About a job in Venezuela. Needed to be there within a few hours or all hell was going to break loose.” 

 “Nature of the beast. You get used to those phone calls, unfortunately.” 

 “I thought maybe she’d slow down a little after we got engaged and started planning a wedding,” Kyle says. “I thought maybe that was enough to keep her busy and occupied, but...” he shrugs, and flips open his menu. 

 “Nik doesn’t do the job because she needs to keep busy or occupied. She does the job because she IS the job. She’s always been hard core about it. Completely devoted. Not to mention, she’s the boss. It’s her own company. And she has a lot of people relying on her to keep things running smoothly and to keep them safe. It’s a lot of pressure. A lot of stress. I wouldn’t to do it. Run the show.” 

 Kyle smirks. “Did you actually just pay Nik a compliment in some weird, back hand way?” 

 “I have nothing against job Nik.  I actually admire THAT Nik. It’s the other Nik I can't stand. The one that spent six and a half years trying to destroy my marriage. And...” she holds up her hand in a plea for silence when Kyle opens his mouth to speak. “...I know Tyler and I aren’t perfect. That things have never been conventional or normal between us. But that’s the way we are. And that doesn’t give her a right or a reason to try and bang my husband. So don’t even try to defend that.” 

 “I agree that that part is a little messed up.” 

 “You think?” Esme rummages through her purse for the bottle of recently purchased prescription meds. The doctor immediately writing out the order when she couldn’t get through the first thirty seconds of describing how she was feeling without bursting into tears. 

 “So you get used to it?” Kyle asked. 

 “What? Some trifling bitch trying to wreck your marriage?” She pops one of the pills into her mouth and swallows it down with ice water. “No. You don’t.” 

 “Not that. The job. The phone calls. Them leaving at a moment’s notice. Now what you’re doing or talking about at the time. You do get it used to it, right?” 

 “I don’t know if you get used to it. But you learn to tolerate it. I’ve had phone calls come in at some pretty inopportune times, let me tell you.” 

 “How inopportune?” 

 “Let’s just say, Nik and her phone calls are the epitome of cock blocking.” 

 Kyle nearly spits a mouthful of water across the table. 

 “Right?” Esme laughs. Talk about bad timing! But in Tyler’s defense, he did always finish the job at hand. So...” 

 “Okay, that is too much information. I don’t think about you two...you know...finishing.” 

 “Kyle, despite what you think, I’d have sex more than five times. I just don’t have it to procreate, you know. It happens to be a lot of fun.” 

 “I do not what to think about those things when it comes to my little sister, okay? I know you’re a wife and a mother and all of that, but you’re still my kid sister. I still want to beat the hell out of any guy that touches you.” 

 She laughs and sips her water. “I’d love to see you try.” 

 “And totally get my ass handed to me? No thanks.” 

 She grins. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you admit defeat.” 

 “I’m not stupid,” he chuckles. “This is Tyler we’re talking about. I’ve heard about the shit he’s done. What he’s capable of. And he’s totally capable of killing me with his bare hands.” 

 Esme nods in agreement. 

 “Aren’t you scared? You know what he can do. You know the things he’s done. Aren’t you even a little bit afraid? Of him?” 

 She shakes her head. “I’ve never been afraid of him. Ever. And I’ve seen his temper at its worst. He’d never hurt me. Or the kids. I have no reason to be scared of him.” 

 “But what if he snaps on day? What if everything that’s going on his brain just becomes too much and it gives way? What...” 

 “Tyler would never...ever...do anything to hurt me. I’m not scared of him. I’ve never been scared of him. It’s the opposite, actually. He makes me feel safe. Protected. Because I know if anyone ever tries to get to me or the kids, he’s more than capable of stopping them. He’s not a monster, K.” 

 “I never said he was. But that kind of job? Being a mercenary? And doing it as long as he did?” 

 “Tyler was never the job. The job was just part of him. I’ve known a lot of mercenaries. A lot. Guys that allowed the job to totally take them over. To the point you didn’t even recognize them anymore.  That’s that all they are. Callous, cold, calculated, violent. Extremely violent. And horrifically abusive. To everyone. Girlfriends, spouses, kids.” 

 Kyle gives a small, almost sad smile. “Nik’s told me some stories.” 

 “Tyler would kill himself before he ever hurt me or the kids. He’d put a bullet in his brain if he ever got like that. I’m not scared of him. I never have been. And don’t underestimate me. I could put him on his ass if I ever had to.” 

 Her brother laughs at that. 

 “He’d never do anything to us. That’s the last thing you need to worry about. He was never like those other guys. I guess that’s what really set him apart; what I found really intriguing about him. Out of all the mercenaries I’ve worked alongside of and knowing the stories that revolved around him, I expected him to be one of them. And he wasn’t. He was still human. And you may not see it because he’s stubborn and thinks he has to hide certain sides of himself, but he’s a good person, K. A good person who’s had to do some terrible things to stay alive. He’s a big man with an even bigger hurt. You just have to be fortunate enough to get to experience it.” 

 “I see how he was with you. How he is with the rugrats. He adores those kids. And worships the ground you walk on. I mean, I think you’re an annoying bitch, but...” 

 She smirks and directs a kick to his shin. 

 “But I see how he is with you. You guys share a pretty profound bond, you know. You saved his life. Literally.” 

 “I did what anyone would do,” Esme reasons. “You save people all the time.” 

 “That’s my job.” 

 “I wasn’t going to let him die there. And I definitely wasn’t going to let someone hold me back and expect me to just stand there and watch him die.” 

 “Esme,” Kyle sighs. “Don’t bring Nik into this.” 

 “She left him there. She didn’t even want anyone to get to him to help. What kind of person does that? He became expendable. The job was done, and she need him anymore. And she was willing to let me die on that bridge too. I know you love her, but least accept the truth on who she is and what she’s capable of.” 

 A server comes to take their drink and food order, and Esme gives he a smile of appreciation and hands her the menu. 

 “I saved Tyler because he deserved better than the end he was being given.” she says. “Because no matter how badly he thought he deserved death, he deserved a second chance more. You learn a lot about someone when you’re running for your life and trusting them to get keep you alive, believe me.” 

 “And when you spend five days in a hotel room pretend to be married to them,” Kyle grins.  

 “I’m not talking about what their favorite sexual positions are or how kinky they can be. And trust me, he can be extremely dirty.” 

 Kyle grimaces. “I do not need to hear this.” 

 “And regardless of what you or Nik think, it wasn’t just sex. Those five says. It’s  not like we never spoke to each other. We talked. A lot. We told each other things we’d never told anyone else. So it wasn’t just physical connection, as amazing as that was. It was more than that. Way more. I wouldn’t have stuck around in Australia and spent months sleeping in a chair at the hospital if it wasn’t.” 

 “And now here you are. Married, five kids.” 

 She nods. 

 “Honestly, I never expected this from you. Especially after Mark. After all the shit he put you through…" 

 “Well sometimes someone comes along and shows you that not all men are the same. That not all love hurts. I was lucky. Not everyone gets that chance.” 

 “I gotta hand it to you, kid. You’ve come a long way.” 

 “I didn’t mean to cause issues between you and Nik,” she says. “Just so you know. That wasn’t my intention. But we’d give up that life. That’s why we left Colorado. To start fresh. And suddenly she just shows up? Asking for his help? Again? He’s shed enough blood for her. Tyler owes her nothing.” 

 “It’s not she’s asking him to go back out there,” Kyle reasons. “She just needs his help. With Ovi.” 

 “And don’t even get me started about that! Her encouraging this with Ovi.  After everything that’s kid been through? For years we’ve struggled to get that kid healthy. Mentally healthy. And he gets some stupid ass idea in his head and instead of telling him how stupid it is, she encourages him! Recruits him. You must be able to see how screwed up that is.” 

 “He’s not a kid anymore,” Kyle reasons. “He’s a grown man.” 

 “He’s my kid. No matter how old he is. This is a horrible idea, K. Ovi deserves so much better than this. And something or someone has gotten into his head and poisoned him to the point he thinks this is a smart, viable option. Nothing good will come of this. Nothing. For Ovi. For Tyler.” 

 “All Tyler has to do is train him. That’s it.” 

 “And you think that’s enough?” she gives a dry laugh. “I’ll you what. You put in some of the leg work. Spend a couple of days when them ‘training’. It's not as simple and basic as you’re making it out to be. Try it. One day eve. And then see you how you feel about it.” 

 “Maybe I will.” 

 “Go ahead. I know you think you’re a total bad ass, bit you now idea what it all entails. No idea. But if you think it’s that easy, then come on over and Tyler will put you through the paces. You’re probably be crying for mom when it’s over. If you even last that long. You’ve been to the gym with him; you know how hard core goes.” 

 Kyle nods. 

 “Imagine that times...I don’t know...twenty. And that’s if he’s slacking. Don’t underestimate him. You can the take man out of the job, but you can’t take the job out of the man.” 

 “You think he’ll go back?” Kyle asks. “That he’ll get the itch? That just training won’t be enough.” 

 “I’ve told him that if he has to go...if Ovi gets into trouble and needs his help.... that’s fine. I’ll support him one hundred percent. But if he willingly goes for any other reason, we’re done. I’m done. I’m leaving and I’m taking kids with me. No looking back. I cut my loses and that’s that.” 

 He frowns. “That seems a little harsh.” 

 “I can’t do that life again. I just can’t. And I love him, but I love my kids more. And they deserve better than that life. They deserve a father that’s devoted to them and only them. And he can’t be if he goes back to the job. He just can’t.” 

 “So you’d just take off and take his kids?” 

 “I didn’t say he wouldn’t be able to see them. Because I’d never do that to him. Or them. But they need a stable, calm environment. And when he’s doing the job, our house is anything but stable and calm. It’s not what’s best for the kids. Not Tyler. Not me. Them.” 

 “Well for his sake, I hope he does the right thing and doesn’t fuck up. That’d probably kill him losing his kids.” 

 “Don’t put that on me, Kyle. It’s hard enough making that kind of decision, but adding that kind of guilt to it?” 

 “That wasn’t what I was trying to do, and you know it. But you honestly go to that extreme? Taking his kids away from him?” 

 “I wouldn’t be taking them away. They’d still see him. It’s about giving them a stable environment. And nothing is stable when it comes to the job. Because first the job comes about, then the drinking, then the fighting. You don’t know what it was really like, K. You only know half of what went on in our house.” 

 “Couldn’t have been that bad,” he comments. “You guys got back together. After you split for those six months.” 

 “Because he promised to get his shit together and said he wanted to work on things and make them better. And you know what? That lasted about eight months. And then it all started all over again. All because of the stupid goddamn job and because of Nik’s inability to leave him alone.” 

 “Esme, we said we weren’t going to fight. And if you bring up Nik, that’s exactly what’s going to happen, and you know it. If you didn’t want me with her, why’d you even set me up with her in the first place?” 

 “Because she was way too good to be stuck with Mark. No one deserved to be stuck with that asshole.” 

 “So what? You used me to get her away from Mark? What...?” 

 “I didn’t think anything would actually happen between you two,” she admits. “At least nothing serious. I thought you’d have your fun for a little bit and then move on. You’d never been interested in settling down before. I never thought you’d start thinking about it when you met her.” 

 “That’s messed up. Using your own brother like that. Here I thought you did it because you wanted me to happy.” 

 “Of course I want you to be happy. I just don’t want you to be happy with her.” 

 Kyle gives a derisive snort and shakes his head. 

 “You’re too good for you,” Esme informs her. 

 “First, she’s too good for Mark, now I’m too good for her?” 

 “You deserve someone...I don’t know...different. Someone who can devote themselves to you. Who isn’t so hung up on their career. Someone who’d be happy being a firefighter’s wife. And believe, there’s tons of girls like that out there.” 

 “Maybe that’s not the type I want. Maybe I want someone who has more going for her. If you were that against this, why didn’t you say something before? Instead of waiting until four months before the wedding. A wedding which you...my own sister...hasn’t even committed to yet.” 

 “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not comfortable being there? Kyle’ she’s spent years trying to fuck up my marriage. And now I’m just supposed to be okay with hers?” 

 “I’m your brother.” 

 “Exactly. You are. Which means something should have told you marrying the woman spent six and a half years trying to fuck mt husband wasn’t a good idea.” 

 “Honestly, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought you’d grown up enough to let it go. She tried, he turned her down. End of story.” 

 “So you’re okay with being married to someone with no morals?” 

 “You’re okay with it,” he retorts. “You’re married to someone who killed people for a living.” 

 Esme scowls. “That’s not the same thing and you know it.” 

 “You’re right. It’s not. It’s even worse. You’re going to preach to me about morals when you’re married to hired killer? Who you were fucking three days after you met him.  And you think you’re somehow morally superior?” 

 “That’s low, Kyle. Nik has enough blood on her hands herself. Including Tyler’s.” 

 “And you’re still holding onto that. It’s been almost what? Seven years? Since Dhaka? And you’re still holding onto that?” 

 “Oh I’m sorry,” she scoffs. “You watch someone you love get shot in the throat. You have them bleed out all over you. You stick your fingers in their neck to try and keep them alive. And then you tell me how easy it is to get over.” 

 The server arrives with their food, breaking the tension that has fallen on the table.  And Esme takes a sip of her water in a vain attempt to wash down the lump of emotion that now sits firmly on their throat. 

 “You have no idea what was like,” she scowls, as she uses her fork to stab at the salad on her plate. “Saying what I saw. Doing what I did. You have no clue, Kyle. And you have no right downplaying it and telling me to just ‘get over it’.” 

 “It’s been almost seven years,” he gently reminds her. 

 “And sometimes it feels like it’s only been seven days. So until you’re at in that kind of situation...and I hope you never ate...you need to keep your advice and your opinions to yourself. If you want to marry Nik, go ahead. But I won’t be there. None of us well. I love you. But I don’t agree with what you’re doing. If it were anyone but here, I’d be there.  But after what she’s done...after she was going to leave us there...I’m not going to pretend that I’m happy for you. Because I’m not. I know what she’s like and I know what your life is going to be like. You’re going to spend it being second to the job. And you deserve so much better than that.” 

 “So do you,” Kyle says. “But you stick around.” 

 “Don’t ever compare Tyler to her. Because you know that’s complete and utter bullshit. He is nothing like her.” 

 “You keep telling yourself that, Esme. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.” 

 “Don’t even put the two together in a sentence. If you want to marry her and never have a normal marriage or kids of a stable life, go ahead. But I’m supporting that bullshit.: 

 Kyle sighs heavily. “You’re even more stubborn than I remember.” 

 “I’m not stubborn. I’m just sick of peoples’ shit. Hers. Yours. Why couldn’t she just leave us alone? We were happy. Things were great. And now all of the drama is back again. And I’m had it up to my eyeballs in Nik drama.” 

 She sighs heavily when her phone vibrates against the table, then grins when she checks the text message. 

 “Apparently you’ve made an impression on my neighbor,” she says. 

 “Salena?” 

 Esme nods. “I guess she stopped by the house and Tyler told her you showed up at her place last night looking for a piece of ass. And she actually believed him. Now she wants me to give you her cell and her home number. You know shit is getting real when someone gives up their home number. Do you want them or...?” 

 “I’m engaged,” he reminds her. “I’m getting married in four months.” 

 “That means you have four months to change your mind.” 

 “Esme...” 

 “Don’t be so difficult,” she snags his cell from where it sits next to his plate and proceeds to add Salena’s name, info, and numbers into his contacts. “Trust me. You’ll thank me for this.” 

 He somehow doubts that.

[tyrannoninja]

Excerpt from “Priestess of the Lost Colony”

The following is an excerpted chapter from my upcoming novel Priestess of the Lost Colony. More information about the book can be found on my official website.

No torches burned inside the tunnel beneath the temple of Mut. Only the brazier Bek carried behind her drove back the blackness, and it was dimming with every passing second. Itawaret occasionally paused to search the floor for branches that she could toss into the brazier, but found nothing but cold and damp stone.  

Finally, they reached a rectangular outline of light at the tunnel’s end. By the mercy of fate, the pair had not stumbled into any booby-traps, nor run into any dead ends branching off from the main passage. While dark, the journey was not as perilous as Itaweret had feared…

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

“How do you know this doesn’t lead to a trap?” Bek asked.

“Think about it. Why would Mut lead us into a trap? Don’t you trust her enough, brother?”

“Assuming that was Mut speaking to us. What if it was that Achaean demon she talked about, that Athena?”

Itaweret fought hard within herself to ignore him, and the possibility he raised. It was a valid point, if she were honest with herself, but it seemed unlikely that an Achaean deity like Athena could penetrate the sanctum of Mut. At least she hoped so. And hope was all they had left.

Itawaret walked up to the rectangle of light and pressed her shoulder against the surface, feeling the same cool stone texture as the tunnel’s walls. She pushed all her strength onto the door, groaning from exertion and the exhausting day, until it fell forward with a hard thud and crumbled outside.

A flood of daylight blinded her. Once her eyes readjusted from the subterranean darkness, she found herself on the summit of a grassy hill that sloped into a gravelly beach beside the sea. The setting sun gilded the crests of the waves, but the colors of the sky graded ominously, from dark red to black. Itaweret wrinkled her nose from the smell of smoke and burnt flesh.

Behind the hill, the city in which she had lived her entire life bloomed into a colossal inferno of flame. The fires that roared on rooftops, together with thick black rivers of smoke, obscured any sight of the carnage that, she realized, must have clogged and already begun to rot over the streets. Still, she could make out a stream of people being herded out through the city gate, prodded along by Mycenaeans in their bronze suits.

They were her fellow citizens of Per-Pehu. Her people, friends and neighbors, reduced to human livestock in one evening.

“How dare they!” Bek shook his fist while watching what she watched, quaking with rage. “We’ve got to do something!”

“We will, brother. We wouldn’t be out here if we weren’t going to do something about it. But we cannot fight now. Come on!”

She took his hand. They descended the hill to a dirt path that meandered northeastward. The cover of the olive and cypress trees alongside it, together with shadows that grew darker with each passing minute, would conceal them from any prowling Mycenaeans.

She hoped.

Less than two hours later, the scarlet heavens faded into blackness almost as pure as that within the tunnel. Now their only light was the half-moon and dusting of tiny stars around it, giving off a faint white glow reflected upon the vegetation and stones. Itaweret huddled close to Bek as they hiked up the path through the foothills, pausing only to pick up sticks to feed the fire in the brazier. If there was one thing to praise the wilderness for, it was an abundance of cheap firewood.

They ascended higher into the hills, climbing until the open, scrubby landscape of the low plains gave way to oak and pine forests that girdled the mountains. They climbed over fallen logs and boulders strewn about with increasing density. If walking uphill had not already worn away at the strength in their legs, maneuvering around these obstacles in the terrain taxed their muscles to aching even more.

Underneath the soft fragrance of the pines, Itaweret’s nostrils flared, capturing another odor, more rancid and unpleasant. She traced the scent to the gleaming, red-spattered bones of a lamb, flies buzzing around the few scraps of meat that clung to it. She had seen cattle and goats sacrificed to the gods in the temple complex at Per-Pehu, but never witnessed their gory remains in a state like this. The sight almost shoved her last meal from her stomach into her throat.

“How could this have died?” she asked.

Bek crouched over the bones and ran his finger over one of five parallel scars raked across the ribcage. He pointed to a weathered impression in the nearby earth, broader than a human hand, with claw marks sticking out before each of its five toes.

“I would have guessed a lion, but cats in general don’t leave prints like this,” Bek said. “Normally they retract their claws, so they wouldn’t show like they do here.”

“Could it be a dog?” Itaweret asked. “Or a jackal? Or one of those gray monsters the Achaeans call wolves?”

Bek shook his head. “Much, much too big for any of those. Truth be told, I have no idea. It must be a kind of monster we’ve never seen in our lives.”

Back home, everyone inside Per-Pehu’s walls had heard travelers’ stories of the beasts that roamed the wilds beyond the colony. Some spoke of cannibalistic men with singular eyes or the heads of bulls, giant swamp-dwelling serpents, or fire-breathing creatures that were part goat, part lion, and part snake. Itaweret had always considered the descriptions too ridiculous to be real. More frightening were the accounts of hulking beasts with dog-like faces and claws like knives, giant cats with dagger-long fangs, and ill-tempered elephants covered in shaggy hair. Those stories sounded almost truthful.

Itaweret wrung her hands around Mut’s scepter, shivering with a dread colder than the nocturnal air itself. “Do you know whether it could be nearby?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Bek said. “The tracks are a little worn. It could have left here hours or even a day ago.”

Two glowing specks of yellow blinked behind a nearby patch of bushes. Leaves rustled and branches snapped as the specks drifted towards them. The furry outline of a thick, stocky body gleamed from the brazier’s firelight. The creature’s snout was long like a dog’s, but its ears were smaller and more rounded. As it panted and grunted, it exuded the same stink of decayed flesh as the sheep carcass.

Itaweret took a step back from the lumbering animal. “What do they call things like that?”

“A bear, I believe,” Bek whispered. “Stand your ground. That could scare him off.”

Itaweret forced herself to stay put and waved the scepter of Mut like a warrior’s staff as Bek shook the brazier back and forth at the beast. Rearing ten feet into the air on its hind feet, the bear curled its lips back, exposing pointed canines. It uncorked a menacing roar while brandishing clawed forepaws.

With a single swat, the bear knocked Itaweret’s scepter out of her hands. She jumped to grab it, but the bear seized the scepter in its mouth and tossed it into the darkness. It swiped at her bosom, raking through her linen cloth and skin with its claws. Sharp pain swept through her chest as she collapsed to the ground.

Bek thrust his brazier again, the heated ash landing on the bear’s backside. Now aggravated, the the bear turned away from Itaweret, roared, and charged him. The bear’s attack on Bek gave her enough time to crawl over and retrieve her scepter. Just as the bear was about to punch the brazier out of Bek’s grasp, she chucked the scepter into its shoulder.

Her blow distracted the beast for another second. Then it swung around and barreled towards her again. She had no another weapon to beat it aside.

Another roar followed.

All the children of Kemet could recognize that deep feline roar. Along with it appeared a pair of yellow eyes, set in a bright tawny form. The feline sprang from the blackness and landed on the bear. The two creatures rolled in the dirt in a chaotic melee of biting and slashing.

The battle ended with the crackle of bone. The bear fell limp, a river of blood gushing from its neck, and more blood spilling from slashing cuts all over its body. The bear’s slayer stood over it, roaring with a savage exultation.

Itawaret and Bek looked upon the largest lion they had ever seen, one with a thick dark mane and faint leopard-like spots on its flanks. She had heard stories of giant spotted lions roaming the countries north of the Great Green Sea, but according to those same stories, they’d died out. Was this the very last, or did it have a whole pride behind it? If the latter, would they be seeking dinner?

Itaweret could only hope the bear’s big and meaty carcass would take their mind off she and Bek.

Then, a voice, a proud voice: “That’s a good boy, Xiphos!”

A young Achaean man in a simple wool tunic walked toward them, carrying a wooden shepherd’s crook. He stroked the lion’s mane as if it were a tame dog, while the big cat gorged itself on the dead bear. Much to Itaweret’s surprise, the lion tolerated the boy’s touch, rather than fending him off like any truly wild animal.

Itawaret brushed droplets of blood off her clothing and jewelry. “Xiphos? Is he your pet or something?”

“My father brought him in when he was a cub,” the Achaean youth said. “No need to fear him, my lady. He’s as gentle as a puppy unless you piss him off. Are you folks all right? It’s not every day we have black people come to these parts.”

“Why do you call us ‘black’ people?” Bek asked. “Our people are various shades of brown, some of us darker than others. If we are ‘black’, would that make you, what, ‘white’?”

The Achaean chuckled. “No use arguing over what we call each other. Trust me, I’ve heard far nastier names for your kind of people. Name’s Philos. And you two?”

Itaweret did not want to know those “nastier” names. “I am Itaweret, High Priestess of Mut from Per-Pehu. And this is my brother Bek, son of the Great Chief Mahu.”

“Aye, so you’re from the colony over the hills.” Philos looked up and down Itaweret’s body, his eyes following her contours in much the same gazing way as Scylax of Mycenae. “And, by Aphrodite, are you fine to look at, scratches and all! Nice curves, especially.”

Itaweret shook her head and grumbled. Achaean or Kemetian, white or black, men were all the same. Though she had to admit, the muscular young Achaean, with his flowing long black hair, wasn’t a wholly unattractive specimen.

“Anyway, either of you wouldn’t have seen a little ewe around these parts, would you?” Philos asked.

“We saw a sheep’s skeleton,” Bek replied. “We think the bear ate it sometime back.”

“Hades be damned, then! Xiphos and I have been looking for her the past couple of days. At least she was only one ewe. So, what are you two Kemetians doing out here?”

“In case you haven’t heard, Per-Pehu has been brutally sacked by King Scylax of Mycenae,” Itaweret said. “Our goddess Mut has sent us a quest northeast, one that will lead to Scylax’s defeat. We hope it does, anyway. She told us that we would find our answer in the first village over the mountains.”

Philos scratched his hair. “By Zeus, that’s my village! I don’t know why we’d know how to beat the king of Mycenae, out of all people in the world. But, if your goddess says so, I ought to help you the best I can.”

“How far is your village, anyway?”

“A few more hills to the east. But we ought to rest here for the night. Xiphos doesn’t like being dragged away from his meals, and I think we’re all damned tired anyway.”

Bek yawned. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Itaweret nodded. Almost every muscle burned from straining, even beyond her wounds from the bear’s attack. Her stomach groaned with hunger. Once the lion filled himself, she wouldn’t mind cooking leftovers of the bear over a fire lit by Bek’s brazier. Never before had she eaten bear meat, but food was food in uncivilized places.

She looked up at the treeline, and caught the flicker of little eyes. They weren’t the yellow eyes of a bear, lion or other predator, but silver-gray eyes… familiar eyes.

She blinked. The eyes were gone.

[maiuoart]

Hey Mutt. There's a guy on YouTube called AChickNamedAlbert that I reeeeeeally think you'd like if you like ducks! He's got a video in helping save a rare species called Hookbills. :)

….If Mutt was real; He’d be starry eyed and probably make the most horrible, excited noises at watching that. He’s never loud unless it’s due to a battle cry.

Then Black would SLAM AND BARGE IN, LIKE WHO THE FUCK DARES TO HARM HIS BROT-

Black; ….Why the absolute fuck are you crying?Mutt; cause the asshole made it seem like one of the ducklin’s wasn’t gunna make it, BUT LOOK HOW FUCKIN CUTE-

Black just slams the door shut.

Yup. You broke Blacks brother with too cute of ducklings. You should be ashamed of yourself, but it also seemed to have Mutt just be in huge joy.

Black is… Torn to either kill or be happy? He doesn’t understand how his brother could just melt to such-… Weak, and certainly not adorable, little wastes of spaces.

Thanks for showing me THE CUTEST DUCKS EVER, I squealed. Ohmygod. ♥

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Soul Eater, Episodes 10-12

Oh goddamn, these episodes were spectacular. It’s official, Soul Eater has upgraded from good to great. And I can’t wait to see what else it has in store.

The Boy Who Would Challenge God

Last time, I mentioned that now that Soul Eater has kicked itself out of its awkward introductory phase and started buckling down on actually making us care about these characters, it’s finally come into its own and become a show worth following. Well, fuck my nuggets if I didn’t realize just how right I was, because BlackStar and Tsubaki’s two-part quest to defeat an enchanted sword easily blows our first battle with Crona out of the water and takes the top spot for Best Subplot of the Show So Far. It’s legitimately inspiring to see Soul Eater finally find its footing and start delivering the kickass, because my god, is it truly remarkable to watch unfold. And it all comes down to finally letting its characters feel like fleshed-out people, capable of experiencing growth, change, and all emotions on the spectrum.

On that subject, it’s a good thing BlackStar finally got the fleshing-out treatment, because he’s been by far the most... one-note of the cast, feeling like little more than an arrogant loudmouth who really needed someone to beat some sense into him. But his quest here reveals that there’s far more to him than we initially thought, and it communicates that information all perfectly. There’s a great scene where he’s detailing his backstory to Tsubaki, both of them standing on branches on opposite sides of a massive tree, a beautiful framing device to highlight the distance between them and their experiences. It’s the first time we see this kid really be introspective, talking about his assassin family and the way it affects how people see him. But it also shows us just where his remarkable confidence comes from: he puts on a brave face and pushes himself harder than everyone else as a way of throwing that past of, proving to the world around him that he’s worth more than the family he never even got a chance to know.

And holy shit, these episodes make sure you feel the full weight of that self-aware confidence. He’s a smarter fighter than he first appeared, wrangling his opponent into fighting in mid-air, on his turf, without breaking a sweat. When Tsubaki’s battling her brother inside the sword and the villagers are wailing on his head, he doesn’t break composure once, laser-focused on being there for his companion when she finally makes it out. And I felt every single one of those blows; watching this loudmouthed kid shut up and focus when it mattered most turned me around on him just like that. BlackStar isn’t ignorant or naive; he’s all too aware of how dark the world can be, so he laughs in its face to make life a little brighter for everyone. He puts his trust in hope because he has no other option, because he refuses to accept a world where “better” isn’t a possibility. And if he has to push himself to be a star to grow strong enough to make that world a reality, then that’s what he’s gonna do.

Aromaless Flower

That said, while BlackStar’s raw confidence has finally earned my respect, it’s Tsubaki who really steals the show this time around. In direct contrast to her meister, she’s a person who finds herself scraping low to the ground, keeping her head down to avoid causing a fuss, helping people because it’s easier than helping herself. Like the flower that bears her namesake, she has no scent, no presence; she only blossoms, then wilts and dies, leaving nothing but a vague sadness of loss in her wake. And she wants to break free of this collapsed hole of a life, but she can’t find the handholds to pull herself up. She can’t even bring herself to tell BlackStar the real reason she’s going after the enchanted sword: that it carries the soul of her brother inside. She’s too trapped in her own head to feel like she can- or should- make an impact outside of it.

It’s a weakness that her brother’s well aware of, and their confrontation inside the enchanted sword is easily the best fight of the series so far. I was glued to my screen from the moment that pale red sea with spindly black shadow spires came into view, and my jaw only dropped further and further as the action ramped up, bloody and brutal and spectacularly chaotic. It’s intense as all heck, made even more striking by Tsubaki’s willingness to get battered and bloodied without letting the pain sink in, always looking at her brother with those pitying eyes that strike to his core, still unable to accept his anger. No joke, there were moments in this battle where I legitimately bit my lip to keep from completely losing my shit. This battle was insane. Even after all the pain she was subjected too, Tsubaki couldn’t bring herself to truly fight back. She was still hoping for her brother’s return, still unable to prioritize her own safety, still unable to accept her own value. Nothing but a wilting flower, fading into the autumn breeze.

Until a single idiot dragged her back from the brink.

A Blackstar Hug

Because while individually, BlackStar and Tsubaki’s fleshing out was still incredibly welcome, it’s in their companionship that this arc truly comes alive. This show has a real knack for portraying the importance of the bonds its characters share, how much everyone means to their partner and how they bring out the best in each other. Just the simple act of Flashback BlackStar’s finger to the heavens trembling for a split second before turning into a mighty thumbs-up upon hearing Tsubaki applaud his speech tells you literally everything you need to know about their relationship in a single, marvelous image. See sees and validates the sincerity underneath his bluster, and he in turn provides her with the confidence she never had on her own. BlackStar has complete faith in his partner, just as much as he has faith in himself. And we see that faith as he puts his trust in Tsubaki to handle whatever’s nagging at her, to conquer the demons she’s setting out to conquer. She doesn’t need his help; he knows she’s strong enough on her own, even if she can’t see it herself. He gives her the chance to see the good in herself, to realize the power of the bond they share.

He gives her the chance to see she’s strong enough to be a star.

And it’s that confidence that finally gives her the strength to pull her bleeding body to its feet and strike her brother down, raising her voice in anger and pain for the first time since we’ve met her. And holy fuck, I thought I was glued to my screen before. From the second Tsubaki rejects her brother’s fatalism to the moment he fades away in a silent, echoing flurry of petals against a brilliant blue sky, the final act of this battle was legitimately one of the most stunning takedowns I’ve ever seen.. Tsukabi leaps through a hail of darkness, taking blow after blow, erupting in spurts and lashes of blood, but pushes forward all the same in complete defiance of weakling her brother sees in her, tearing through her self-doubt with the force of a goddamn hurricane and a truly exhilarating burst of masterful sakuga. She conquers the fears inside her and lets her own voice- her own fragrance- fly at last. And it’s truly riveting to watch unfold.

And then, she returns outside. To the partner who gave her the strength to best this trial. Who had spent the last few minutes desperately banging on the sword, refusing to believe his friend and companion had lost. Because that’s how much faith he had in her. Who then asks her, without a single hind of his usual bravado, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Because he knows how much she’s likely been through. And he knows the face of someone trying to hide their pain behind a fake smile.

And he offers her solace by putting his own brave face back on and cheerfully saying, ”Let BlackStar give you a hug!”

He gives her permission to be weak.

Because he knows that’s what makes her strong.

And when Tsubaki collapses into his arms, letting her tears finally flow, I was almost right there with her. Holy crap. Holy crap. Is this really the same show as those middling first three episodes? The emotions are all so overwhelmingly real now. Their connection is so incredibly real. This is why I will always respect the Blue Exorcists and Noragamis of the world; when done right, these simple, silly stories can genuinely be some of the most affecting, genuine experiences out there. And Soul Eater didn’t just reach that level, it just proved itself to have the potential to be the best one of these things I’ve seen yet. This little arc was spectacular. This is the kind of resonant, emotion-driven storytelling that makes anime so special to me. And if Soul Eater can keep this level of quality up, then I have no doubt I’ll be adding another entry to my list of fandom favorites.

The Scar

Thankfully, if the continued exploration of Maka and Soul’s dynamic is anything to go by, Soul Eater is 100% going to keep on this level of quality. There’s something painfully real about how completely Maka blames herself for Soul’s injury, and how aware he is of how much she’s kicking herself over it. The massive scar running down his chest is a symbol of everything Maka’s scared of; her own weakness, the people she cares for getting hurt, her inability to face the horrors of the world when she most needs to. And judging by Soul’s likely-demon-blood-influenced recurring dream, he’s just as terrified of his inability to be the partner she needs. Not gonna lie, I was terrified for a moment that she would try to break her partnership off with Soul when they ran into each other in the street. But Maka has never been one to take her demons lying down. Not when her father ran out on her, not when faced with overwhelming odds, and certainly not now. She can face this fear. She can face the scar her weakness carved into her life and seek to rise beyond it. And the realization of that strength on my part was so goddamn satisfying. This show knows how to invest its stakes with genuine dread, to make you palpably aware of the emotional and physical torment these characters could go through should they fail or fall short. But it also knows how to make you exhale in relief when they rise to the occasion all the same.

Odds and Ends

-”Are you the Enchanted Sword?!” I mean, he’s got a good eye for dramatic convention, I’ll give him that.

-”Don’t go picking fights with the elderly!” I like Tsubaki more by the second.

-”I think... you have fear in you?” “T-that’s kind of abrupt.” Not an unfair response to a creepy stranger barging in on you, all things considered.

-”If the times can’t catch up to me, does that mean I was born too early?” akjsdhaskdjh rip BlackStar

-”I’m sorry! He really is a good kid!” God dammit I love her

-”Huh? We’re being blocked. I don’t know to deal with this.” Someone just let Crona take a nap already. He really needs one.

-That entire witch’s coven was gothic as fuuuuuck. Also, I guess witches are an organized force in this world, not just a bunch of final bosses? Interesting...

-Okay, you guys have said “Jar” so many times that it’s completely lost it’s meaning.

-asdkjashdkjasd WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FACE MAKA

-”Somebody, take this sex kitten home with you.” Alright, if we absolutely must have the occasional obnoxious fanservice, at least keep giving me reactions like this. Soul, you utter dork.

-Death by internal snake explosion? Fucking brutal.

-”I don’t like the way this feels under my feet. Turn back into a frog.” Fucking hell, she’s got her cowed.

Well, I’m certainly excited now. See you next time!