#by forcing them outside their ranges and making them stick to his 'technique'

[sanstropfremir]

I'm not sure how you feel about Stray Kids and this ask isn't actually about their latest comeback but I just saw their rapper Han on Lee Mujin's show and his acoustic-ish cover of Twice's Alcohol Free is actually so good??? Honestly I've always been a hit or miss with their songs but I think I'm just not a fan of how they rap because the first time I heard Bang Chan sing I was like he's actually pretty good please give this boy a slow song and now I'm like why doesn't Han sing more too

he doesn't sing more because they locked up their members into dance, vocal, and rap categories so on official songs they can't actually have one of the 'rappers' sing more/better than their vocalists. also their whole thing is that they're a 'self-produced' group and their producers are rappers so.............

[uwuwriting]

Todoroki, Shinsou and Iida protecting you

Request: Hello can I request todo, shinsou and iida protecting their girlfriend from cat callers or something like that? Basically her being in a really uncomfortable situation and even though she is a fearless hero in the field because of past trauma she freezes up in these situations? Thank you - anonymous

This post might trigger some people since they might have experienced something similar both in the cat calling and past trauma department. I’ve never really written anything so serious and triggering before so this might suck. I’m sorry in advance. So TW beware. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: trauma, PTSD, semi non-con but not explicit, cat-calling, harassment, ends in fluff

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto is really protective of you. 

-Not an overbearing type of protective, he just wants you to be safe and sound. 

-Also he knew about your abusive past.

-When he shared his family background you shared your own trauma and history with physical abuse. 

-It hurt him to hear you saying that someone you trusted, someone who used to be in his place, betrayed you like that. 

-If he could find your ex and beat him to a plump because of how he scarred you, he would. 

-But you reassured him that you were alright now, that he showed you what being loved felt like even though he himself didn’t really know how to love and that your past is what pushed you to be a hero. 

-Your relationship lasted even after high school and now, one year into the adult world, you two lived together. 

-It had been a tough day for your boyfriend at work, having to fight three major villain attacks and a mountain of paper work to tackle. 

-Fighting along side you was the highlight of his day. 

-He was the first to arrive at your apartment and had gotten to preparing dinner for you when his phone rang. 

-You smiled back at him from the screen as he accepted the call. 

- “Hey, love. I making so-”

- “Sho someone is following me.”

-He heard the panic in your voice and immediately turned off the stove walking to the door to put on his shoes. 

- “Y/N where are you?”

-You gave him your location and he was out the door in no time. 

-He kept you on the phone, talking to you, trying to restrain your panic. 

- “H-he was outside of the pharmacy near the a-agency.” 

-You never stuttered, oh god he was going to kill the man. 

- “I walked past him and he grabbed my arm a-and pushed me on the w-wall. Shouto he tried to t-touch me.”

-He was running now, his rage making his quirk go crazy as flames rose from his left shoulder. 

- “Baby I’m almost there, go into the convenience store on the corner and wait in there.”

-Your weak okay from the other line pushed him further. 

-He knew how certain acts reminded you of your ex, even after all these years. 

-They would send you into a small panic and even though you were one of the top upcoming heroes , you were still human at the end of the day your own past haunting you. 

-He was always there to chase those fears and memories away, never letting them get to close to you. 

-And now that’s exactly what he has set out to do; chase away the man who tried to hurt you. 

-Rounding the corner he was met with a sight he wished to never ever witness again. 

-It seems that you hadn’t made it into the store when he hang up and he slapped himself for not keeping you on the call for longer. 

-He heard your sobs as the man had you pinned to the wall his hand trying to unzip your jeans. 

-Shouto was fuming. 

-Without a second thought he grabbed the man by his jacket and shoved him to the ground, grabbing your elbows to steady you before pushing you gently behind him as the man stood up. 

- “Want a taste of her too boy?”

- “Get the fuck away from her!”

-Shouto kept one of his arms behind him pressing you onto his back as the other activated his quirk frost forming from his elbow to his palm. 

-He could feel your trembling as you clutched onto his shirt, on of your hands grasping his own squeezing it. 

-The man backed away at the sight of Shouto’s ice raising his hands in the air admitting defeat. 

-Shouto however had other plans. 

-Freezing the man on the spot he growled as he fished his phone out of his pocket and called the police reporting what the man had done and his location.

- “If I ever see you again anywhere near her I���m not going to be this kind got it?”

-And with that you two left as the police sirens sounded in the distance. 

-Back in your apartment, Shouto helped you get undressed and then ran you a bath, wiping away the man’s touch and leaving small kisses were his hands used to be. 

-He helped you get dressed in one of his hoodies and a loose pair of sweatpants before setting you down on the couch and ordering your favorite food.

-He heard your small sniffles and sat down beside you, bringing you on his lap and letting you cry it out, rocking you back and forth as he kisses your hair.

-You calm down after some time but Shouto won’t let you leave his embrace.

- “I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again. I don’t care where I am you will always call me when something happens. I love you.”

-For the next month or so Shouto was at your beck and call, never leaving your side and even going as far to take some days off to spend as much time with you as possible.

-He kept his promise as he kept you safe for the rest of your lives. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Hitoshi was there for you when he found out about how one of you family members had hurt you. 

-He was there when you would wake up with nightmares while sleeping in his dorm. 

-Or when you had panic attacks after someone came at you in a way that seemed all too familiar. 

-He was there every step of the way. 

-Hitoshi was really amazed at how you zoned in on your work and those thoughts never held you back. 

-PTSD was hard to battle and even harder to deal with in a work place such as yours. 

-After high school your panic attacks fell in numbers, leaving you to rest peacefully at night.

-Shinsou was sure he had chased your demons away, that you felt completely safe with him and that he would never see your trembles of fear ever again.

-But he was wrong. 

-You two were out on a date, walking along the beach on a sunny day enjoying each others company. 

-Shinsou went to buy you two ice cream leaving you to wait for him on a bench.

-You were minding your business, checking up with your agency to make sure everything is alright; after all it’s not everyday that your main two heroes are out of commission for the day. 

- “Damn girl where’d ya get all that ass!”

-It came from a group of man behind you who were staring at you like a piece of meat.

-You tried to ignore them switching to your messages ready to text Hitoshi.

- “Those shorts look so tight on you sweetheart.”

- “I bet it’s not the only thing that’s tight about her.”

-You had frozen up at the nickname.

-It brought back everything you and Shinsou had managed to scare off, pushing them down your throat making your insides twist in disgust. 

 -He isn’t here it’s just some awful cat callers, Y/N calm down. 

-You tried to calm yourself down using your common sense, separating the two situations and pointing out the differences, a  technique Shinsou had taught you while you were still in high school.

-You were so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed the three men hovering over you, one of them reaching down to grasp your thigh. 

-That’s when you started to tremble.

- “Aw look at her, she’s so excited..”

- “Let’s go have some fun pretty girl.”

- “We’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to walk home.”

-You shoved the man’s hand away and went to get up only for an arm to snake around your waist  pulling you back down on the bench. 

- “Now now sweetheart don’t be naughty.”

-You wanted Hitoshi. 

-You wanted your Hitoshi so bad right now.

-And as if you had summoned him, purple hair could be seen above the men’s heads. 

-Shoving them off of you one more time you pushed through hitting Shinsou’s chest as he wrapped an arm around you. 

-He pushed you behind his back before scanning the three men, leveling them with a glare so sharp it could slice right through them. 

- “You better leave my girl alone before I get really angry.”

-The men scrambled to their feet before running off, terrified from Hitoshi’s structure. 

- “Kitten! Kitten are you alright? Did they hurt you? Please kitty talk to me.”

-Tears ran down your cheeks and Shisnou just pulled you gently into his chest before telling you that he was taking you home.

-This man will do everything in the house after that. 

-He undresses you and helps into the shower to clear their touch from your skin, then he dresses you in one of his large hoodies and lays you on the couch. 

-He can see you are still trembling so he comes back and takes you into his arms before going back to doing whatever he had in mind. 

-Now this is a scene to behold. 

-Two of Japan’s strongest heroes are walking around their house cosplaying a panda and its bamboo stick. 

 -He orders take out and then lays on the couch, still having you on his lap drowning your sobs in his chest as he says over and over again how sorry he is for leaving you alone and how much he loves you. 

-He knows you haven’t had an episode in what felt like ages. 

-It really shook him seeing you so helpless and terrified again. 

-He swore he would never see that petrified glint in your eyes. 

-That was his new mission. 

-And he was willing to do anything to accomplish it. 

Iida Tenya 

-Iida is well aware about how your ex had forced you to do certain things with him. 

-He also knew how you believed that what had happened had been your fault. 

-He had reassured you that nothing was your fault,that your ex was to blame and to never see yourself other than the victim in this situation. 

-It hurt him to see you suffer so much. 

-He had provided you with a shoulder to cry on and soon enough you two were together.

-When during your last year of high school, his comfort and words didn’t really cut it he encouraged you to see a therapist. 

-And that helped you a lot. 

-It untangled the parts Iida couldn’t reach on his own and coupled with his support you managed to pull yourself fully out of the whole that your ex had dug. 

-Now Iida knew that somethings still triggered you. 

-He knew what he should and shouldn’t do while you two are being intimate and what he should watch out for. 

-So when you two are taking the train to visit Deku in his agency for his birthday and he feels you squeezed his hand a little too hard he knew something was up. 

-You had buried you face in his shoulder, something he wouldn’t allow if you had asked, squeezing his hand as your breathing became uneven. 

-Iida looked around expecting to see your ex somewhere thinking that he was the reason for your small attack. 

-But he found no one he knew in the crowd. 

-Then his eyes fell back down to you and from the corner of his eye he caught movement under your dress. 

-Following the source of the movement with his eyes he was met with the lustful eyes of a grown ass man, his hand under your skirt groping and squeezing you. 

-He saw his hand trying to separate your thighs and that’s when he fully snapped. 

-Grabbing the man’s hand he shoved it in his chest before placing himself between you and him. 

- “How dare you touch her like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

-The whole train was looking at the man at this point and Iida could see how the vein on his forehead popped. 

- “Being an adult, you should know better.”

-Others chimed in insulting and shaming the man while others asked you if you were alright. 

-At the next stop the person got off a chain of angry comments following him out. 

- “Y/N honey are you alright?”

-You buried your face in his chest and he let you stay there for the rest of the ride. 

-He placed on hand on your back rubbing soft circles over your sweater and talking to you not allowing your thoughts/memories to creep further into your mind. 

-He kept your hand in his for as long as you were away from your apartment. 

-You would squeeze his hand every now and then, grounding yourself. 

-Once at home late that evening he pampered you. 

-He ran you a bubble bath and cooked your favorite food. 

-He made a small pillow fort on your couch while you were in the bath and he waited for you to finish. 

-The rest of your day and night was spent in your boyfriend’s arms never letting you go once. 

-He provided his warmth and comfort. 

-Just like when you were in high  school.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[oathofoaksart]

YOUNG JUSTICE OC: KITSUNE 

bio under the cut!

BASICS Name: Leiko Ara A.K.A: Kitsune; Lei, Kit, L.A [only by Charlie] Age: 16 [S1 Era], 21 [S2 Era] Gender: Cisgender Female Orientation: Grayromantic Bisexual

Skin: Fair Hair: Plum-Black Eyes: Black, fully golden and slit-pupiled as Kitsune Height: 5'6”, 6’1” in platforms Build: Lithe, built like a dancer Distinctions: Distinctly pretty. Sharpened canines and nails. A sharp dresser, obviously wealthy, rarely seen without some type of heel.

RELATIONS Parents: Ryuu Ara and Cho Miyamotou [estranged] Siblings: N/A Friends: Wally “Kid Flash” West, Zatanna Zatara, M’gann “Miss Martian” M’orzz, Raquel “Rocket” Irving, Kaldur’ahm “Aqualad”, Dick “Robin” Grayson, Conner “Superboy” Kent, Artemis Crock, Haley Overbea [OC] Partner/s: Wally “Kid Flash/Flash III” West (ev. post-S3) Misc.: Charles “Scribe” Jenson [OC], Penelope “Poppet” Caskett [@PoltergeistPrincessa] Affiliations: The Spiral, The Team

PERSONALITY Personality Type: ENTP-A [Assertive Debater] Temperament: Choleric-Sanguine Alignment: Chaotic Good Clever | Self-Assured | Driven | Arrogant | Spiteful

Aristocratic in both upbringing and nature, Leiko likes to carry herself with regality. Her confidence and well-honed charm makes her a popular figure among her school peers, even though she keeps everyone at a cool arm's length. Her social aloofness leaves her with little to no close friends, which she figures is just as well, since she finds friends to be a waste of time.

Around others in the heroic scene, Leiko allows herself to show off. She’s known for her theatrical and flamboyant attitude, topped with a haughtiness she cares little to subdue. She’s assertive, witty, and adores a challenge. She lets this completely unfurl as the vain and dramatic Kitsune, who views the world as her stage and anyone watching her audience.

Leiko struggles with unlearning a deep-seated cynicism against others and is often skeptical of actions claimed to be done out of good will, which clashes with the ethics of heroism. Her grasp on empathy leaves much to be desired as well; she can be condescending, sharp, and impatient when the situation calls for exactly the opposite.

Still, steadily Leiko finds herself learning humility, trust, and care from her teammates, along the way forming friendships no Swiss bank account could buy.

ABILITIES AND WEAKNESSES

Powers and Abilities:

Physiology:

Lei doesn’t possess a human soul, but of that of her namesake, a kitsune. Her “soul” is instead a Hoshi no Tama, usually referred to as her soul bead. It is a fist-sized pearl that resides within her body. This is the source of her magic as well as her heightened physical attributes.

Enhanced Senses: Lei demonstrates fox-like senses. She sees just as well at night as she does during the day, hears better than a normal human, and has a better sense of smell. This doubles in the supernatural side, she can see, hear, and smell beyond the mortal plane. 

Enhanced Physiology: Lei exhibits above-average speed, strength, endurance and rarely if ever comes down with diseases, viruses and the like.

Onmyodo: A traditional Japanese occultism

Illusion Magic: Lei’s strongest suit is her hold over illusion spells. Using a variety of paper charms, mirrors, physical cues, written and verbal spells, she's able to create confusion over her opponent. These illusions range from visual to audial, making it difficult to rely on one's own senses. Her illusions are often grandiose, jarringly colorful, with nods to the overall aesthetic influence of traditional Japanese art forms. In turn makes her relatively immune to similar tactics.  

Barriers: Can alternately use barriers as a sort of defense or a barring mechanism. Barriers set up by paper charms are stronger and more durable than barriers set by simple verbal spells, however combining both techniques grants the best results.

Pyrokinesis: Lei’s kitsunebi is a mystic fire she can conjure in the form of pillars and spheres. Notably different to “mortal” flame, as it burns exclusively supernatural/otherworldly beings, but brings the sensation of weakness and illness to the human body.

Weapons and Inventory:

Enchanted Parasol:

Kit’s go-to weapon. By reaching over her shoulder, the same way one would unsheath a sword, her oil paper parasol materializes into her hand in a burst of flame. It serves both as a defensive and offensive tool.

Closed: While in her hands it doesn’t appear to weigh any more than a regular parasol, in combat it carries an inexplicable weight, able to break concrete. She uses it as a melee weapon, much like a bat or a club. Kit also uses it as a makeshift wand/staff, for bigger and more complex spells. And a favorite stun tactic of hers is to mimic pumping the action to a shotgun, aiming her parasol and “firing” it. It creates a momentary illusion of being “shot” to whomever her target may have been. 

Open: Popping it open creates a quick-time personal shield, able to deflect various attacks and withstand a fair amount of explosive power. Ducking behind it obscures her from her opponent and she uses this window of time to work up a spell. Spinning the canopy of her parasol causes momentary dizziness. When jumping off of highland, the parasol allows Kit to glide for long distances (the amount of time and smoothness of the glide suffers when another person is in tow).

Ofuda: These paper charms can be used as delayed “bombs” affected by sticking them into walls, either simply timed or activated by touch. They also serve for warding spells. Gohei: A summoned short wand with a decorative paper trail, the length of the trail stretches during use. Lei uses it as a sort of weaponized gymnast ribbon, or a whip. Most effective against intaginable objects or enemies. Balance Charm: With Scribe's help and after many mishaps, Kit wears a beaded charm around her ankle which enables her limited enhanced movement. She appears to glide along, unweighted, making her movements seem feather light. It helps slow or cushion short distance falls and balance on unprobable surfaces. May also explain how she manages to fight in heels. Spellbook: Kit carries a small notebook with variant spells written herself for safe-keeping and for a quick reference check. Mirrors: Kit holds a small, two-faced mirror. The mirror serves to see through glamour illusions or create more intricate illusions of her own; more often than not, she uses it to admire a makeup job well done. Purification Salt: Ghosts in particular are vulnerable to salt, circles of it makes areas inaccessible to them. Calligraphy Set: A horse-hair brush, inkwell and a small stash of paper for written spells

Limitations and Weaknesses:

Water and Aquatic Environments: As host of a fire kitsune, Kitsune’s main and biggest weakness is water. Being around areas with large amounts of water dampens the potency of her magic, being doused in it cuts off completely until she dries off. While her parasol helps repel rain and small splashes, it can only do so much. The water effect includes any type, Lei incapacitaed by things such as baths and showers as well until she properly dries herself off.

Cynophobia: Lei’s “unprompted” fear of dogs, or really any sort of canine that aren’t foxes, can be traced back to Japanese folklore. Dogs were considered enemies of foxes, being used to hunt them down. People accused of being possessed by, or being kitsune, were sometimes forced to be licked head to toe by dogs in order to expel the demon to it’s true form. Dogs make Lei largely uncomfortable at best, aggressive dogs will either send her into a state of frozen terror or at worst, unabashed panic.

HISTORY [TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL HARASSMENT]

The only child of Ryuu Ara, a successful luxury hotel chain owner and president, Leiko grew up with the world served to her on a silver platter. She enrolled in the best schools, excelling in academics, popularity, and was starting to make headway as a teen model. Leiko formed into a pretty, precocious, if pretentious, girl.

At age 14, after wrapping up a student council meeting afterschool, the student body president forced her into a corner when she’d turned him down for a date. The boy grew increasingly aggressive, but was stopped from going beyond grasping at her blazer when a brilliant white flame unfurled from Leiko’s hands. She fled the second she found an opening, calling for help until she caught the attention of school security. The boy was found unconscious, but physically unharmed. (She would later find out, he complained of sudden illness and a downslide of rotten luck, with little to no memory on how he’d been knocked cold.)

Ryuu spared no expense on making sure justice was properly handed out, although that was simple when compared to the news Leiko gave him about her new ability to conjure flame. But he’d taken the revelation far easier than Leiko thought he would. Ryuu admitted it was something he’d been somewhat expecting, even dreading.

Leiko’s mother was something of a taboo subject. Outside of knowing her name was Cho (Ryuu never mentioned her maiden name) and that there had been an ugly divorce shortly after Leiko was born, she didn’t know much else. Even then, her father didn’t go into specifics beyond blaming Cho for Leiko’s newly discovered “peculiarity.” Ryuu ultimately decided it was best for Leiko to pretend she hadn’t discovered it. She had a bright future ahead of her as his heir and it wouldn’t be marred by her mother’s blood. Leiko obeyed despite her protests. They’d both come to realize, however, fire was just the beginning.

Over the following weeks, more abilities came to emerge, from heightened senses to supernatural awareness. She struggled under the pressure of maintaining the semblance of being normal. The weight of stress and desperation finally proved too much for Leiko, leading to a discussion gone sour, ending only when she noticed Ryuu backing away from the looming shadow of a four-tailed fox she cast on the wall. She would miss the following days of school when her eyes refused to revert back from their completely golden, slit-pupiled appearance.

Resigned, Ryuu took to looking into someone who could help Leiko with her magic troubles as this was beyond his reach.

That someone came to be a man by the name Scribe, a semi-public mystic who operated within New York. Scribe’s interest piqued at the mention of Leiko’s transformation and to the Ara’s slight relief, Scribe proved himself to be a sorcerer of true magic instead of a con-man looking for a quick buck. He’d confirmed their suspicions of Leiko being tied to the kitsune, fox spirits of Japanese lore, although he admitted he had little to no experience with said creatures.

Scribe refused to leave Leiko to sort things out on her own, however, and offered her a proposition. Scribe’s lifelong work dealt with a massive, mystical library he dubbed the Spiral, which housed knowledge from across space and time. Despite his years slaving away at discovering and archiving its secrets, progress was going at a crawl. He’d take Leiko under his wing, giving her access to whatever she could get her hands on and import what they couldn’t find from his various connections. In return, she’d take up being his personal assistant. Ryuu had been reluctant to let Leiko have a hands on approach and had made his dislike for Scribe apparent, but relented.

The world of magic was a far cry from the straight-laced, business-oriented life Leiko had grown in; it both terrified and fascinated her. Scribe, real name: Charles Mordichai Jenson (Charlie for short), proved to be an eccentric, but well-meaning guide where he could. As the two dove into research, Leiko let loose a sense of freedom and expression she stifled to fit her father’s expectations. Charlie was quick to help enable this. They were polar opposites in many ways, but Charlie saw a passion and potential in Leiko that mirrored his own at her age, and he fully intended to see it shine. It wasn’t long before Leiko wasn’t just checking inventory and jotting notes for both The Spiral and Jenson’s Comics (Charlie’s civilian pop culture store), but followed him out on relic retrievals and even the occasional “mystic field trip”. Charlie had been adamant on one thing when she stepped out of the safety of The Spiral however, much as he’d taken Scribe as his mantle, Leiko would have to make one of her own for the sake of her identity. It wasn’t a hard choice for her as it was practically staring her in the face, Kitsune took life. Over the next two years, Kitsune proved herself to be a capable magician despite being self-taught. Juggling her home, school and magic life was busy, but thrilling. Perhaps a little too thrilling. During an outing, Scribe and Kitsune were ambushed by a sorcerer named Felix Faust, who ultimately took Scribe prisoner. Well-aware of just how over her head she was, Kitsune went on a one-girl rescue mission to save her mentor anyway and was beyond relieved to find a young group of supers on the same trail.

The group, known simply as “The Team”, had been alerted of Scribe’s abduction through their resident mystic, Zatanna. Scribe had managed to send a distress signal before all communication cut off. Shoving down the twinge of jealousy that came with that revelation and of being out of the loop, Kitsune allied herself with the Team until Scribe was rescued. She was offered a permanent position on the Team, which she said she’d think over even though she had no interest in becoming a hero. She was more persuaded by the opposition placed by Scribe and the oddly genuine endearment shown by the Team’s speedster, Kid Flash.

Less than a few days later, an argument between Leiko and Charlie sparked by his confession of thinking she wasn’t right for the Team just yet sent her right to them out of spite.

Now taking a crash course in heroics, Kitsune tackles supercrime, training, self-reflection, team building and the frustrating, but integral importance of friendship.

NOTES

Kit has alternate versions of her Kitsune outfit and will switch between them mid-battle, either because she wasn’t feeling the one she was wearing, it got dirty, or a specific attack called for a wardrobe change

Because Lei’s brand of Onmyodo is largely “home-brew” given she’s self-taught, she incorporates other types of magic and styles to compensate 

Lei has the passive ability of being ridiculously lucky, she never loses games of chance such as coin flips and dice rolls

The nickname ‘Lei’ was originally coined by Wally West and it’s a nickname she only allows within the perimeter of the Cave

Lei is proud of her musical skill, it’s not uncommon to hear her singing to herself and will shred an electric guitar when given the chance

She has a pet Bearded Dragon named Prince. Prince was a at-Death’s-door rescue surrendered to Charlie, who gave him to her after she helped nurse Prince back to health and she wound up attached to him

Lei’s father is unaware she’s taken up heroism, as far as Ryuu knows, she’s studying under Charlie to get her curiosity of magic out of her system

[damatris]

There's Harshness In Your Voice And Softness In Your Hands

May I offer you a very soft and hopefully funny concussed!Jaskier geraskier fic in these trying times? Also tagging @jaskierswolf since you’re an awesome writer and I super appreciated your kind words and encouragement! <3 This was the third fic I wrote after a 8 year break in writing prose. :’D

Pre-Geraskier, concussed!Jaskier, protective!Geralt, Fluff, And Humor wc:  2,638 Also on AO3 with The Mud Wolf song!

....

"Are we there yet?" Jaskier asked with a grin, knowing perfectly well the town was only ten minute walk away. Exasperated sigh was his only response, just as he predicted.

"I do hope I have enough time to turn your newest valiant fight into an epic tale. Spinning a song out of a mud covered Witcher and his battle with an overgrown worm might be impossible for a lesser bard but I'm sure I can manage." he continued, taking maybe slightly too much joy out of having stayed spotless while Geralt looked like he had rolled on wet ground for a good while. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

For once the hunt had been more of an annoyance than life threatening. Geralt had been hired to take care of an unidentified monster wreaking havoc on the soft soil of nearby fields, threatening the crops.

Turned out the monster was a sizable worm like creature with thick ridged skin and countless teeth similar to sharp picks in a gaping maw. Which could have been deadly if its anatomy didn't require one to stick an arm inside the mouth to be bitten. But it had been strong, squirmy and eager to burrow away forcing Geralt to drag it out of the ground with both hands more than once. It ended up more of a wrestling match than a fight before he had been able to skewer the monster with his sword.

Jaskier had been happy to offer gleeful advice and encouragement from a safe distance where flying muck couldn't reach his silk doublet.

"Really, it would make for a good ditty, something to hum while working the fields" the bard continued, demonstrating a bright tune.

"Don't." Geralt said blankly, dragging the monster's corpse. Mud was starting to flake off his face and armor leaving dusty residue. He would have to give it a throughout cleaning later. Having caked mud in armor joints could only lead to discomfort and possibility of something jamming.

"We'll see." Jaskier said and kept humming until they reached their destination.

Calling it a town might be slightly generous but it was a lively place. During the day there had been a sizable crowd of customers and sellers in the town square, children playing and general bustle of people hurrying on their errands. Even now in the twilight hours there were people walking around giving them looks ranging from disgust to fear to bafflement. Which Jaskier thought was fair enough considering a bloody carcass was being dragged by an extremely filthy Witcher down their streets.

He too would have stopped to stare at such a spectacle once upon a time. Nowadays he just witnessed the hunting of the dangerous creatures instead.

Few minutes later they separated. Geralt was off to present the proof of the completed mission to the magistrate and collect his fee while Jaskier continued to the inn they were staying at. He had a promise to keep to the owner. Not that it was any sort of a hardship. He would have performed anyway but getting free meals for both of them was a very welcome bonus.

The inn's tavern with its warmth and amiable atmosphere was a welcome change from the cooling evening. Conversations and laughter, clinking of drinks being drank and dinners being eaten filled the space with familiar sounds. It had been far too long since the last time they had stayed somewhere nice Jaskier decided. Adjusting his lute he headed toward the bar to talk with the owner.

"Hello again!" Jaskier greeted placing a coin on the counter. "Could you draw a bath in about thirty minutes or so? Not for me, don't worry. I'm ready to sing until everyone here is full of good cheer and good ale!" he ended with a wink.

"That might take quite the while knowing these folks." Oscar, a tall broad man chuckled. Noticing the lack of a looming presence he asked "Bath's for the Witcher then?"

"Absolutely! You should and will see the state he landed himself. So easy to mistake for something that crawled out of a swamp and rolled in dirt for good measure. If you hadn't already seen him, you'd swear his hair is black and skin grey. Thankfully the same fate didn't befall me." Jaskier gestured to his clothes. "Now that would have been a tragedy."

"Plenty of water needed then." Oscar nodded to himself, moving toward a patron looking for a drink. "I'll have it ready for him."

Jaskier gave a small playful bow and twirled around to spot a good place to stash his lute case.

This evening had blessed him with an appreciative audience, Jaskier mused happily. He had begun with true crowd pleasers, jaunty songs that each and everyone knew, to draw the attention and set a jovial mood before moving to his original pieces bridging the change with Toss A Coin. It truly was a great trademark and transition song with addition of people usually complying with the lyrics and handing out money. Sure, there always were some grumblers who would prefer anything over having to hear about the White Wolf in a positive light but you never could please everyone. No matter how much he would like to.

Jaskier had started on the third song detailing a hunt he had witnessed when the Witcher of the tale entered the tavern drawing all eyes and causing murmur.

"Your bard really wasn't exaggerating much." Oscar noted behind the bar with a wry smile. "There's a warm bath waiting for you upstairs. I'd make haste if I were you."

Geralt nodded his acknowledgment while taking a sweeping look at the tavern. Spotting Jaskier near the stairs leading up to the second floor he locked eyes with him for a moment before starting in that direction. While Jaskier's performance hadn't faltered even for a second it was clear he was laughing internally at Geralt's appearance. His blue eyes were sparkling with mirth as he took stock of the stiff hair and dust falling with every step.

Walking past him to the stairs Geralt grunted something that was both a thank you and a warning. Jaskier felt quite proud of how well he had learned the meanings of the various hmms and wordless grunts Geralt seemed so overly fond of.

"Filthy fucking mutant!"

Jaskier was used to being pelted with various objects by dissatisfied audiences so he didn't think anything about stepping between something flying and the Witcher's retreating back.

Until blinding pain hit him.

On a reflex Jaskier threw his arms in front of himself trying to ensure the safety of his lute as he was knocked down on his back. Trying to draw air back into his deflated lungs and focus on anything outside of the ringing in his ears, he vaguely registered a dark shape jumping over him with a curse.

It might have been a year or it might have been a second before a large hand shook his shoulder.

"Damn it Jaskier, breath!"

Ah, yes. He knew that voice. He should probably answer.

"...G'r'lt..." not the most eloquent but passable. It was kind of hard to force words out when you had to think about breathing. Maybe he should go back to practicing basics if saying one word clearly took that much air. How had he ever sang possessing such a horrendous breathing technique?

"Look at me."

But he already was? Oh, wait. That darkness wasn't Geralt's black armor. He just had his eyes closed. But who was he to deny the chance of looking at Geralt's eyes? They were so beautiful after all. With herculean task he blinked and, behold, those molten yellow eyes were intensely staring at his. Such perfection surrounded by dancing stars.

"Can you sit up?"

Should be simple enough but he would need his hands. And they were...

"M' lute...?"

"Of fucking course you would worry about your lute. You're clutching it."

Ah. Good. Everything was fine in that case. Case. Where was his lute case? No, he had put it down before performing. Should be safe. Even if he couldn't recall where it was. Maybe he could ask Geralt. He could just-

"Sniff 'nd find" it with his strange strange Witcher senses. Seemed like a good plan. Geralt would know the scent.

"What the everlasting fuck Jaskier? How hard did that tankard hit your head?"

But tankards weren't for hitting? Why would he have…? Ah. Yes. He must have stepped in front of it now that he thought about it. Still, who would throw one? If you wanted to throw something at a person then-

"Coins ar' good, bre'd okay."

"That's it. I'm taking him to our room."

Jaskier had never realized he could levitate but suddenly he wasn't on the floor anymore. It felt much more safe and warm than he would have thought. And weirdly dusty. Also, Geralt's face was very close. Very, very close. So very close. It was distracting him from the experience. It was unfair how-

"Handsome." Geralt was. Robbing him the chance of experiencing flight. The bastard.

"If you mumble nonsense then you can just shut up."

Rude.

Shit, Jaskier thought. He wasn't levitating anymore. He had missed his chance of enjoying it. Suddenly also the warmth and Geralt's face were gone. No, there was Geralt again. But why wasn't his hair white? It was even in the name. The White Wolf. Not-

"The Mud Wolf."

"Really Jaskier? Not even coherent and you make insults?"

Geralt was an insult. With his pretty eyes and pretty lips and strong arms. Arms…? Maybe Jaskier didn't know how to levitate after all. Maybe Geralt-

"Carried me?" Huh. That would have been even better to register than levitating. If he asked would Geralt do it again while hiding his stupid good looking face? No, probably not.

"Yes."

He would? Wait, no. It was an affirmation for being carried, Jaskier realized with disappointment. He was prevented from brooding by something wet and stinging touching his forehead. He wanted it to-

"Stop. Hurts."

"Stay still. I need to clean this."

Geralt was the one who had wrestled a worm, not him. Heh, that's why he was The Mud Wolf! Didn't explain why his forehead needed cleaning though. Jaskier took a deep breath and tried to focus. Worm, tavern, performing, Geralt coming in. Then it got fuzzy. But hadn't there been a mention of a-

"Tankard. I got hit by a tankard?"

"Finally. Yes Jaskier, you were an absolute idiot and stepped in its path." a relieved sigh passed Geralt's lips.

"You were already in its path." Jaskier accused him wincing against a new stab of pain. Geralt should be thankful. Who knew that an overglorified cup could hurt this much?

"I was the target. It would have hit my back. While wearing an armor. If I hadn't caught it first."

"..." Jaskier blamed his lack of a comeback on concussion. Having one would explain everything. "Please don't say a child threw it and managed to knock me out."

There was an amused huff. "No, it was an adult. One that has a far worse headache."

"They managed this while concus-? You gave them one!" Jaskier crowed pleased with his returning mental skills. "Ooh, I wish I could have seen it. I hope they lost a lot of teeth! And have a broken nose."

"Probably, didn't check. I had more important things to do." Geralt answered prodding Jaskier's head. It didn't look too bad now that the blood was gone. An ugly bruise was quickly forming on a sizeable bump but the cut wasn't long or deep. Shouldn't even leave a scar. Head wounds just bled like a bitch as Geralt knew from personal experience.

"I'm important?" Jaskier breathed with wide eyes and hanging mouth.

Of course. That would be his take away, Geralt thought. Not that he was wrong but…

"Hmmm."

"Dear Melitele, am I hallucinating?" Jaskier whispered lifting his arm to cup Geralt's cheek. And would have promptly poked him in the eye if Geralt hadn't snatched his hand.

"Geralt of Rivia admitting to care about someone? This must be a first!" a familiar sparkle was returning to Jaskier's pinched eyes. He moved their interlocked hands to take a better look. It wasn't particularly romantic with Geralt holding his wrist but Jaskier would take it.

Just as the thought crossed his mind Geralt let go and his arm flopped bonelessly back on the bed. He didn't remember his hands weighting that much. Weird. Combined with his lute he must have far more strength than he had guessed to be able to play for whole nights with no problem.

"Geralt, where's my lute?" Jaskier suddenly panicked trying to get up to look for it. He was screwed if someone had stolen or, god forbid, broken it. All he got for his attempt was splitting pain.

"Your priorities are fucked up." Geralt stated picking a potion and bandage out of his bag. "It's in the corner. Oscar brought it with the case."

"Excuse me! It's my tool of trade, my life line and…" Jaskier trailed off frowning.

"I'll finish that after I've slept." he sniffed radiating offense.

"You do that. Now, stay still." Geralt drawled. Swiping the cut one last time he covered it with gauze.

It might not be strictly necessary but he was quite sure Jaskier would tear it open at least few times with his animated expressions. And, it made him feel slightly better if he was honest. Realizing the bard had purposefully stepped in front of him and crumpled down like a sack of potatoes had been shocking. Just thinking about it made him want to tear the culprit apart piece by piece.

What in the world had driven Jaskier to do it was a mystery. He should be perfectly aware a flying mug was no danger for a Witcher.

"Drink." Geralt ordered shoving the potion toward Jaskier.

Jaskier did make a valiant effort to take the potion but kept missing the mark until Geralt placed it in his hand with an exasperated sigh. Shakily he drank the concoction without hesitation until the bottle was empty, Geralt helping him lift his head enough not to choke.

"Wait. What was that? You always go on and on how your strange Witcher potions are not for us weak fragile humans. You wouldn't poison me after all this time, right? Geralt?" Jaskier suddenly worried.

"If I wanted you dead I'd have killed you long ago. And not with poison." Geralt answered blankly.

"It's just painkiller. You can sleep now. I'll keep waking you up to make sure last of your brain cells didn't rattle loose." he continued lifting the blanket for Jaskier to wrap it around himself.

"That's offensive. I'll let you know I have plenty of commonsense…" Jaskier protested weakly eyelids fluttering.

"Sure. As much as a toddler." Geralt granted. Softer, he prompted Jaskier to close his eyes. "Sleep. You'll feel better after."

"... Uh-huh…" came the eloquent answer. Just before he succumbed to his exhaustion, Jaskier could have sworn he felt gentle hand carding through his hair.

Also on AO3 with The Mud Wolf song!

[atmilliways]

Dethentine’s Day 2

February 9th - In the Style of Disney/Studio Ghibli

Inspired by but not closely following The Little Mermaid. Charles is a merman, Nathan is a human, they... meet and stuff. 

Blood Ocean

When it storms over the open sea, flashes of lightning illuminate the upper reaches of the depths in a pale facsimile of sunlight. It lasts for only an instant, and below the surface the sound of thunder feels like the impact of whale sonar. But when the lightning comes thick enough, it takes on the strobe effect of a stop-motion picture show. 

A man falls into the water, followed by the downed mast of a wounded ship. 

Impact. 

The man is sinking faster than the debris around him, weighed down by his heavy boots and coat. He moves his limbs, but sluggishly. Too slow to make any difference, at the rate he's going. 

Impact. 

Tiny bubbles stream from the man’s mouth as he fights a losing battle to hold his breath. In the inky blackness below, just at the outside range of the storm’s light, something is beginning to dart upwards. 

Impact.

The man is gone. 

~

Charles doesn’t know what possessed him to do this. He hadn’t liked the Water God’s order to destroy any ships that ventured through their waters. That’s what the rest of the patrol are off doing, and tearing the throats out of any sailors trying to swim to safety besides—he can taste it in the water even at this distance. 

But he swims on, balancing the necessity of speed with the difficulty of keeping an airtight seal between his mouth and the now-unconscious human’s, sharing oxygen and releasing the creature’s exhales through his gills. This one must have been smart enough to try and climb to safety, and fell with the mast when the ship finally capsized. If Charles hurries, he can throw the man up onto the nearest accessible bit of shore and race back before he’s missed. 

The place he finds is rocky, but not so shallow that he can’t swim up to it or too steep that the human won’t be able to climb back to its people. Getting the man onto it takes some effort—he’s very broad, and overburdened with approximately the same amount of muscle as a blue whale. No wonder you nearly drowned, Charles thinks with an irritated frown, and gives one final heave—there, he’s up. Should be fine. The tide isn’t due to come in for another hour. 

He prods him, just to make sure, with the heel of one hand. The human groans and coughs up sea water. Yeah, he’ll be just fine. 

Suddenly a big hand closes around Charles’ wrist. “Hey,” the human he’s just rescued mumbles. “Hey, you . . . saved my life. . . .”

Charles feels his dorsal scales prickle in alarm. This isn’t good, the human wasn’t supposed to wake up. Humans aren’t supposed to know that merpeople exist, let alone go around thinking that they’re particularly friendly towards them. In spite of what Charles has just done, it wasn’t because he liked humans, it just . . . didn’t seem right, clawing holes in the bottoms of their ships as the Water God had ordered. It was like shooting birds in an air bubble. 

“No, I didn’t,” he hisses, panicking and yanking his wrist free. “And, ah . . . don’t tell anyone about this!”

The surf is trying to push him past the rocks into tide pools but Charles kicks off hard, both hearts hammering and doesn’t slow down once he’s out over deeper water. He still feels a phantom of that hand on his wrist, and he doesn’t understand why any more than he knows why he saved the man in the first place. 

He does not see the pale shape following at a distance. 

~

It takes Nathan a while, but he does manage to make his way up the rocky incline. Doesn’t help that it’s February, and that between his already wet clothes and the rain he’s shaking almost too hard to stand by the time he reaches the nearest town, but still, he gets there. 

No one believes him when he tries to explain how he survived the wreck. 

He spends the next several days in bed, still shivering. From time to time he rambles about shapes in the water and being rescued by a man who had a tail in place of legs, and people are pretty nice about it but they clearly think he’s touched in the head. By the time the fever breaks even he isn’t sure if what he thinks he remembers is actually what happened. 

Once he’s recovered enough to move on, Nathan decides to stay. It’s a nice enough town, and he’d been on that ship in the first place because he was leaving his parent’s home to find his place in the world. The town butcher needs an apprentice and has a room to rent above the butcher’s shop for cheap. He makes friends with the town drunk, who knows some guys who’re great on string instruments. They’re thinking of putting a band together. There are a lot of things that make hanging around worthwhile. . . . None of them are why he actually stays. 

Every night, Nathan dreams of his mysterious rescuer. Of hazel eyes and a blur of skin and scales. Of a mouth on his, breathing life and a heavy taste of salt into him. 

“‘Course ya dream about it,” Pickles tells him one night, when they’re both wasted past the point of Nathan being embarrassed talking about what might just be a vivid remnant of fever dream and possible head trauma. “Yer the sole survivor of that shipwreck, dood. If someone or something saved you, yer connected to it now. Gonna be until that debt is repaid. So, y’know, meybe that is why yer still here, yer all . . . connected to somethin’ by one’a those strings of fate or whatever.”

Nathan squints in conversation as he slowly absorbs this new idea. His hair falls across his face—it’s getting long, but it doesn’t bother him much so who knows when he’ll bother to cut it. “You mean like . . . an anchor?”

“Sure, either that’r survivor’s guilt.” Pickles shrugs, belches, and signals for the barman to bring them new pints. “I’d say it’s a fifty fifty chance that one’a those is true.”

That percolates in Nathan’s thoughts for a while, and in the meantime he finds himself picking his way back down to the rocky beach every day, rain or shine, and looking out across the water. 

Where are you? Nathan wonders. What are you? It had spoken to him with the voice of a man, so it, he, obviously had some reason. Nathan wonders if he has a name, and if so, what it is. 

He knows he’s obsessing. But if it’s fate or whatever, then what choice does he have?

~

Charles is going about his business, updating the abacai records for his patrol, when a great white behemoth of a merman crashes through the shell-curtain door of his office cave. Only a last minute dive saves him from being barreled into, but not before he gets a good look at the gnashing rows of teeth that belong to one of the Water God’s watchsharks. This one looks to be half Great White, and is wearing a misshapen piece of welded metal as a mask over the top half of his face. 

Fuck. This is because of that damn human, he just knows it. He’d thought he’d been so careful, and in the days since nothing had happened, reinforcing his sense of relief. . . . until now. 

The other merman has a crude knife, one of his own long teeth strapped to a handle with. After the first miss he turns—slowly, Charles notes—and lunges again. 

Everyday patrol schools are usually only taught minimal hand-to-hand combat skills, focusing mainly on hunting outer ocean game, targeted destruction of ships, and techniques for drowning struggling humans. But Charles had mastered the latter skills years ago and had, out of boredom and perfectionism, made a thorough study of the former in his free time. It’s something his colleagues often tease him about. 

Who’s laughing now?

He waits until the last second before darting to the right, counting on his own agility—and catches the arm with the knife, kicks into a spin, and pushes the razor-edged tooth into his attacker’s own side. The sand-rough skin scrapes at his palms, but if that puts any of his own blood in the water it’s definitely covered by the red gout billowing from the other merman, who Charles shoves ruthlessly into the wall before slipping out of the cave and swimming for his life. 

~

Leaving as quick as a riptide, for Charles, isn’t simply a matter of skipping town. It’s not just that he left without any of his personal effects until all this blows over. He knows his absence will be quickly noticed, and that means goodbye career. Between that and the watchshark—who could be dead or could have survived, there’s no way to know now, but even a corpse would tell a damning story—it’s goodbye colony as well. If the Water God has it out for him, no one will dare to take him in, not in any colony. He’s completely alone. 

Charles tries not to think about this, focusing instead on more immediate problems such as shelter and food. The further he gets from the colony’s heat vents, the colder the water becomes, so he’s forced to stick to the relative shallows along the coast, where there’s less chance of something spotting and ambushing him from below. 

Where he’d left that human. 

Somehow he proves harder to avoid thinking about than all the rest; when Charles floats awake at night in whatever new crevice he’s found to hole up in, he pictures the man’s face. Strong, stubborn jaw and high cheekbones. Heavy brow overshadowing eyes that are a deeper green than seaweed, with the dark depth of an ocean except without a trace of blue. Black hair that had streamed straight back during the hurried swim. Charles’ hand had brushed through it when first grabbing him and again when grappling to get him onto the rock, but out of the water it had clung to the man’s head and shoulders like an oil slick. 

He can still feel where the man had grabbed his wrist, an indelible handprint. Sometimes he catches himself rubbing at it absently. Still has no idea what possessed him to save someone only to lose everything, but for some reason he can’t move past that blankness of not knowing into being angry about it—at himself, at the human, at anything, because it just feels so . . . inevitable. As though he’d had to do it, no choice in the matter. 

This does not help him sleep, but eventually he does drift off. 

~

In some underwater caves there are pockets of air that were trapped tens of thousands of years ago when the sea levels rose. They sit, without light or wind, and do not wait because they expect nothing. 

But this one has light. This one has wind, and a smooth beach of solid rock against which Charles wakes, half out of the water. Using his lungs instead of his gills, which is more odd than uncomfortable. The air tastes clear and he smells the greenness of above-water plants. He has no idea how he got here; it’s definitely not where he fell asleep.

A human man stands above him. Not his human—Charles realizes he’s thought this an instant after doing so and feels his dorsal scales prickle—but an old man dressed in dark red and black robes. 

Somehow the old man knows that Charles is alone, an outcast in hiding. He introduces himself as Ishnifus Meadle and offers a way to escape pursuit for good. 

Naturally suspicious of both the offer and this whole set-up, Charles asks what the price is. 

Ishnifus tells him. 

Charles listens in dawning horror. It’s not the answer itself, but the scope of it; a coral outcrop that, upon further inspection, has formed an entire reef that he had until now mistaken for bedrock. Ishnifus knows things that no human should know. He knows things about Charles’ own life that no one could have possibly told him. Somehow it’s all connected, and the feeling of inevitability rises in Charles again like bile—but ultimately what Ishnifus is offering is an explanation. 

“Do you accept?” Ishnifus asks in his whispery voice. 

Impact. 

Charles takes a deep breath, slides down the rock shore briefly to wet his gills one last time, and says, “Yes.”

Impact. 

The merman is gone. 

~

On his daily visit to the rocky beach, Nathan finally sees something. He makes his way carefully but as quickly as he can down to the edge of the water, where a figure is sprawled on one of the rocks. It is in fact, he realizes when he gets there, the same rock he’d found himself on after the shipwreck, unexplained miles from where the ship actually went down. 

The naked figure is pale and hardly moving, cold and clammy to the touch, but Nathan helps him sit up because he recognizes him. Except for having legs instead of a tail, it’s the same mysterious hazel-eyed stranger who saved him from drowning. 

“It’s you,” Nathan says stupidly. He hesitates, but the guy is so weak from cold that before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s got his shirt off, a paltry offering but it’s better than nothing. It drapes hugely from the man’s damp, smaller frame, but after getting it on him Nathan feels like he’s at least provided some protection from the cold sea breeze blowing in from across the water. 

He scoops the man up—there’s something so weird about this, like their roles are reversed and how he has to stumble through the roll of rescuer like some sort of bumbling idiot with no experience in this sort of thing. But he manages to get them up the rocky incline and into town, into his room above the butcher’s shop without attracting anyone’s attention. Wraps the man in blankets and gets the kettle going until the bath is filled with steaming water. When the tub is full, Nathan turns back and sees the man struggling to unwrap himself, straining to get to the water on his own power.

“I can do it,” the man rasps as Nathan helps him, but it’s like watching a baby deer try to walk for the first time. This guy seems to have no control whatsoever over his shaking legs. But Nathan gets him stripped down again and into the hot bath, and he sinks into it with a sigh that borders on indecent. 

Nathan doesn’t know what to do with his eyes. It’s just the one room, and there’s not much to it, so it’s kind of hard to ignore the naked dude in his tub. Plus, he’s already seen everything the guy’s got to offer while carrying him in. So he settles for sitting on the end of his bed, shirtless and holding his wet shirt, and just . . . staring. He watches the man in the tub carefully pull each limb into the water and then dip under the surface, completely submerged, and stay there for a full minute. 

When he comes back up for air he uses the water streaming off him to slick his short hair back from his forehead and sits, nose just above the water to breathe, and stares at Nathan. 

“You, uh,” Nathan starts awkwardly. “You had gills before. On your neck. Right? Or did I hallucinate that?”

The man in the tub doesn’t answer, just stares at him. 

“What’s your name?” Nathan tries. “I’m Nathan.”

There’s a long pause, and then the man in the tub lifts his head just enough that his lower lip is out of the water. “Charles,” he says hoarsely, then coughs and dips down to sip from the tub. 

“Shit, don’t—You don’t know what I’ve had to scrub in there, don’t drink that. Hang on.” 

Nathan gets up and pulls on a shirt to go back out into the hall again, and returns with a glass of water. He hands it to Charles and watches him slowly try to sip from the middle of the glass. 

“It’s, uh, you gotta put the edge to your mouth and tip it,” he offers, miming it. 

Charles—fuck, it’s just so weird to finally have a name attached to the face, but a good weird, the reassuring Okay so I’m definitely not totally crazy after all kind of weird—gives him a skeptical look, but mimics the motion and successfully gulps the water down. Soon the glass is empty, and he hands it back. 

They stare at each other. 

“So, uh,” Nathan says, “you saved my life.”

“I did,” Charles replies. “And I, ah, think you might have just saved mine.”

For some reason, Nathan wants to deny this. Here he’s been, thinking about Charles literally every day for a while now, feeling at the very least like he owes him some sort of debt, then the minute he shows back up in his life they’re suddenly even again and that’s it? No. He shakes his head. “Nah, I just helped you get up the hill. You could’ve done that on your own.”

They stare at each other again. Nathan gets the distinct impression that they’re both fully aware that what he just said is all bullshit; Charles couldn’t even make it into the bath on his own. 

Charles says, carefully, “In that case, I, ah . . . I could use a place to stay.”

“You got it,” Nathan replies instantly, and is he really offering to share his small room and small bed with some stranger who he’s pretty sure is an honest to god merman, an actual mythic sea creature, no questions asked?

. . . Yeah. Yeah, he is. He’s not totally sure why, but he really means it, too. 

Charles is going about his business, updating the accounting book in the back of the butcher’s shop. Word has gotten around town that he’s good at this sort of thing; he’s due at the bakery first thing tomorrow morning to go through their books and make sure all the math is correct, and then in the afternoon the grocer wants him to perform an audit to make sure that none of the employees are stealing from the till. He actually much prefers this bloodless work to patrols. 

But he still practices hand to hand combat in his free time. Now that he’s found his land-legs it seems even more important to maintain whatever physical prowess that he can in this dry, non-buoyant environment. Nathan is helping him get better at lifting weights, and they both benefit in their own ways from the bar fights Nathan and his friends get into and that Charles finishes. 

At night, they share Nathan’s narrow bed. Charles is never cold anymore with Nathan there, although the man is strangely shy whenever he mentions this—some strange human hangup, he assumes, and doesn’t press the issue. He’s become unexpectedly fond of his human, more than fond if he’s really being honest with himself, but hasn’t yet learned the culturally appropriate way to act on this yet. 

Sometimes when he’s waiting for sleep to come, or when the figures on the page and flowing from the nib of his ink pen become so tedious he needs to tear his eyes away to stare at nothing for a moment, he thinks about what Ishnifus told him before giving him this above-water life. He wonders if it’s for the best that Nathan remains oblivious to all of it, Charles’ feelings included. 

There’s a storm coming, and Charles hopes that, if it comes to that, he’ll be able to save his human from drowning again.

[brywrites]

Date Night I

I got so many requests in my inbox for a version of “Date Night” set in The Keeping of Words universe. There were so many suggestions for how that could look, but I’m really happy with this version, so I hope those of you who like TKOW enjoy it! Part 2 coming very soon!

Summary: Three years after leaving the BAU, Dr. Spencer Reid has given up chasing monsters to be a part-time professor and a full-time dad. It’s all domestic bliss - until Cat Adams turns up at the BAU.

Warnings: mentions of violence, kidnapping, references to past kidnapping and assault

.......................................

“Now, it’s rare for serial killers to go that long between murders, but years passed between the BTK attacks. How did Rader manage to go that long between murders?”

Reid’s students stared at him expectantly, a few flipping back through their notes. A girl in Georgetown hoodie raised her hand. “Well it seems like he stayed connected to what he did in like, other ways? He wrote up detailed plans for each attack so maybe he focused on that.”

“Yeah,” added a boy with round glasses and a sticker-covered laptop. “And he wrote to the police a lot with information and puzzles, so that could have given him the feeling of power he needed.”

“Good, good,” Reid said. “Those are both great points. Rader did all of that and more. The stalking, the planning, the communication with the media is all part of what we c-” His train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He gave it the briefest of glances – just Emily, likely asking for an obscure fact he could provide after the lecture – before pocketing it once more and continuing. “Sorry. Uh, so all of his behavior is what we call sublimating. Psychologically speaking, it’s the process of diverting one’s impulses or desires into a more socially acceptable activity. Forensically, it’s how unsubs curb their urges during a cooling-off period. In this case we see that…” His phone began to ring again. The name on the screen was the same.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. He made it a point not to use his phone in front of his students and to give them the same respect he asked of them while in his class. He quickly sent Prentiss a text. In lecture – call in 30? “As I was saying, in this case it’s clear that–” Before he could even return the phone to his pocket it rang again.

A sudden chill came over him. This wasn’t just about a consult. “I – uh, sorry,” he stammered. His students glanced between themselves. It wasn’t like their hyper-focused, luddite professor to take a call in the middle of lecture. Reid turned away from them as he raised the phone to his ear. “What is it?” he asked.

“Reid, I’m so sorry. We need you to come in immediately. Luke’s out front to bring you to Quantico. We have a kidnapping case and there’s one demand – that we release Cat Adams within 24 hours.” The name made every muscle in his body tense. An automatic trauma response.

“No.” The sound of her name alone sent flashbacks flickering through this memory. Glimpses of Mexico, the inside of a prison cell, his mother screaming, Bianca crying on the witness stand in a courtroom. There was no way he was letting that woman any chance to get near him or his family ever again.

“She insists she’ll only speak if she can talk to you.” This exactly why he’d left the Bureau in the first place.

“Emily, I’m retired, I’m not an agent anymore and–”

“And there are lives on the line, Spencer. I wouldn’t ask if we had any other choice.” And so he ended class early, hurried out of the lecture hall, and climbed into the waiting SUV. Luke tried to catch him up – that morning Garcia had received a video from a woman with dark hair, showing two huddled, hooded figures tied up on the floor of a warehouse. A woman and a small child. They seemed to be crying and while Garcia couldn’t make out their identity, the woman filming wasn’t trying to hide her face at all. The demand attached said they would be killed if Catherine Adams wasn’t released from prison, and Cat only wanted to talk to him. The only man she’d ever lost to.

“This doesn’t follow her typical M.O.,” Reid said. “She usually goes after men, fathers specifically. Why go after what’s likely a mother and child?” Cat was a creature of habit. Her impulsive nature was her downfall. This didn’t seem like her at all.

Luke shrugged. “You know her better than I do. I’ll have Garcia show you the footage when we get there, maybe you’ll see something we didn’t.” But as soon they arrived at the BAU, Emily ushered him off to an interrogation room. There she sat in an orange jumpsuit, staring at the one-way glass, waiting for him with a Cheshire cat grin. It made his blood boil. Reid inhaled deeply before stepping inside. He stood there staring at her in silence. He didn’t trust himself not to scream.

Cat laughed. “Classic negotiating technique. First one to speak loses, right?” The sound of her voice took him right back to that awful night – leaving Milburn, nearly losing his mother, Bianca crying in the roundtable room. Scratch and the crash and Stephen’s death and everything that had come after.

He wasn’t in the mood for her games. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He should have been finishing his class and going home to pick Eliza up from pre-school. “You arranged the kidnapping of two people and you did it the same way you did it before,” he sighed. Cat immediately launched into her usual banter. She had given up fighting her case, she insisted. Now she just wanted to stave off the boredom by playing with her favorite toy. The only thing she hadn’t done, she claimed, was him.

“You sexually violated me in Mexico,” he reminded her.

“I did? Are you sure?” she asked. He gritted his teeth. “Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie, it’s not a good look.”

The room was too small, too warm. He couldn’t bear to be in here with her but he had to be. “I want to go a date,” she declared. “With you.”

“A date?” This was absurd. This was ridiculous. This couldn’t be happening.

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun. And I won’t even get physical, ok?” Cat rolled her eyes. “Unless you want me to.”

There was no way he was going to take Cat Adams on a date. There were only two people he’d ever been on a date with in his life (the ill-fated Redskins game and the Lila Archer incident didn’t count, he’d decided), and he had no desire to add a third to that list. Going out on a date was what he did with Bianca, because he loved her. He took her to bookstores and symphonies and New York City. He bought her flowers and watched her favorite movies and made a list of all her favorite restaurants. That was something special. Something sacred.

“The only date I’ll be there for,” he whispered to Cat, “is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

“You’re gonna let a mother and daughter die?” Cat asked. So whoever was in that video Luke mentioned, it was a mother and her child.

“I never said a mother and daughter. You’re already slipping. We’ll find them, we always do.” The team would find them and he could go home and be with the only two people he wanted to sit across a table from.

“Not tonight,” Cat laughed. “Tonight, I win.”

This was a waste of his time. “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it’ll be a clean sweep.” He turned to glare at her. “Enjoy eternal nothingness. It’s a metaphor for your life.” It was petty, he knew that, but he couldn’t resist letting the bitterness he felt rising in his throat out in some small way.

Cat snorted. “You don’t even realize you’re already losing.” Before he could ask her what she meant, the interrogation room door opened. Prentiss stood there staring at Cat with an expression of utter horror. That Cheshire cat smirk returned. Reid’s glanced between the two women whose gaze held an unspoken secret he couldn’t make sense of.

“What is it, Emily?” he asked.

“Outside,” the unit chief said.

“I did something bad, Spencie,” Cat sing-songed. His stomach dropped. He was missing something. Cat knew it. Emily knew it. And whatever it was, it was big. Emily grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room. Cat’s laughter echoed. The blood rushed in his ears. Something was wrong.

“Spencer,” Emily began. She shut the door behind her and placed herself in front of it, blocking his way. “The unsub sent another video to Garcia. The woman removed the hoods from their faces and we’ve been able to identify the two victims in the video.” Two people. A mother and daughter. A mother and daughter. I did something bad, Spencie. You don’t even realize you’re already losing. No. No, he couldn’t go there.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said. She turned over a tablet. The video showed a dusty warehouse with big windows. And even if the two people had been wearing hoods, he would’ve recognized them immediately. If Luke had been able to show him the video in the car, if they’d taken him to the roundtable room first, he would’ve known. That was her favorite cardigan and the dress he’d zipped up for her in their bedroom. And those were the tiny shoes he’d carefully tied while she sat patiently in the carseat. And now, those were the faces of the two people he loved more than anything in this life, staring back at him.

“No.” His voice cracked.

“We don’t know how she got to them, but I promise you we won’t rest until Bianca and Eliza are safe.”

“No.” In her wisdom Prentiss had blocked him from running back into that room and doing something he might regret later. Reid bit down, forcing back every curse he wanted to shout. He turned and stormed down the hall, pushing his way through the glass doors until he came upon Morgan’s empty office. He stepped inside, slamming the door behind him. It was too hot, his clothes were too tight, everything was too overwhelming and he couldn’t think straight. Fingers fumbled with the knot of his tie, only able to loosen it enough to yank it over his head. He undid the first few buttons of his shirt and shook out his arms. Stimming always helped to center him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a hand to his stomach. Breathed in and out. In and out.

She had them. Cat had them.

Reid screamed, a guttural sound that came from his throat of its own accord. He spun around and set eyes on a desk piled high with books and papers and he pushed them all off to the floor. A lamp went with them, which crashed into a water cooler that tumbled over on its side. It wasn’t enough. He screamed again, flipping a table in the center of the room and throwing a book at the wall. “FUCK!” he shouted. “GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!”

It was like his body didn’t know how to handle the rage. He fell to his knees and curled into himself on the floor, sobbing. This was his fault, all his fault. His only job was to keep them safe, and they were in danger now because of him.

....

Their captor lowered the video camera, smirking. “I think that’ll be a nice video to send your husband, won’t it?” Bianca grit her teeth, inhaling through her nose and willing herself to keep it together. She had to stay calm, for Eliza’s sake. Her ribs and shoulder ached, the blows the woman had landed to her jaw stung sharply. She thought distantly of the night she’d punched Spencer on accident on their anniversary, thinking him an intruder. There would be a trail of bruises left behind for days at least.

“Mama are you okay?” Eliza asked.

Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present. Bianca nodded carefully, the movement painful. She needed to keep Elizabeth calm and keep them both alive. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He’ll be here soon, okay? He’s gonna come find us and then we’ll go home.” He would find them. He always would. No matter how far apart they were or how lost they felt, they always found each other. They saved each other, that was what they did. He made sure she ate and protected her from her family and came to find her in the woods. She helped him through grief and stayed with him through withdrawal and guarded his heart from the monsters. He would find her.

The dark-haired woman squatted down on the ground beside them. “It’s cute,” she laughed, a sharp and cold sound. “That you have so much faith in a man. Men are nothing but disappointing.”

Bianca had been let down by men in her life plenty of times. Her father, who she was never good enough for. Her brother, who held the knife against her throat. They were the reason she jumped when doors slammed and flinched when someone yelled and ran far away from her problems. But Hotch and Rossi had welcomed her like a daughter, Morgan had loved her with the playful protectiveness of an older brother, Lorenzo had been a friend when she needed one, and Spencer – Spencer was the opposite of everyone who had ever hurt her.

“What do you want from him?” Bianca asked. “Did he arrest you? Put away someone you love?” The woman – the unsub, Bianca was beginning to think of her as – just glared back. “If this is a trap, he’s not going to walk into it,” she said. “He’s too smart for that. No matter what you have planned, he’ll outsmart you. He always does.”

Her husband, the genius. He’d win. He find them.

“I don’t think he’ll outsmart us,” the unsub said. So there were two of them.

“Really? Because if he finds us, you’ll be outnumbered. Is your partner smart? Or just too cowardly to take him on?” Despite her fear she tried to maintain her best lawyer voice, imagining she was cross-examining a difficult witness on the stand rather than a kidnapper with a gun.

“Cat’s not a coward,” the woman snapped. She froze, realizing her slip.

“Cat? You’re working for Cat Adams?” She should’ve known. Who else hated Spencer more than her? The woman who’d nearly taken his wedding ring, his mother, his life. Cat was the reason he’d been gone during her pregnancy, the reason he’d been traumatized in Milburn, and drugged against his will. And Cat was the reason that her little girl was tied up in this warehouse. Feeling fury burn in her chest, Bianca forced herself to smile through the pain. “Then you’re definitely going to lose. Cat never wins. You’ll see.”

There was a smack, and Bianca could feel the slap across her face before she processed it. She winced, biting her lip to hold back a groan. “Shut up!” the unsub shouted. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” She turned and stalked off, slamming the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone. Bianca could hear her speaking to someone on the phone.

She leaned down close to Eliza. “Eliza Lou, listen close to me, okay?”

“Okay, mama.”

“Remember how I told you we’re playing a game?” She’d begun this elaborate lie when the unsub grabbed them from the preschool parking lot at gunpoint. It was all a game, and they had to follow all the rules to win. “Well this part of the game is a race. We’re racing to get home. I’m gonna try to untie you, alright? And if I do that, I need you to stay really still and pretend you’re still tied up. But if that woman leaves again, or she’s not paying attention and you can get up without her noticing, I need you to run okay? You get up and you run as fast as you can. You run and run and run until you get outside. And when you do, you go to the first grown up you see, and you tell them my name is Eliza and I’m lost. My dad is Doctor Spencer Reid with the FBI and I need to call him. Do you remember daddy’s phone number?”

Elizabeth recited it perfectly. “Good girl,” Bianca said. “Exactly right. You get them to call daddy, and he’ll come and find you. Okay?”

“What about you, mama?”

“That’s the fun part. We’ll be racing each other home. You and daddy are gonna race me and we’ll see who wins. That’s why you have to be super super fast, okay?”

“Okay!” Eliza smiled up at her, and her heart twisted. She was so young. If they were lucky, she would really think it was all a game – and then she’d forget any of this ever happened. And if they were really lucky, she’d get to see that.

Please, she thought. Please find us, Spencer.

...

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before the door opened and Tara appeared. She sat down next to him, knowing better than to touch him. “I know this is hard,” she said. “But they need you right now.”

The people he loved harder than he’d ever imagined he could love were in danger. And it was all his fault. Cat did this because he loved them. She was hurting them because he loved them. And unless he played her game, it wasn’t going to stop.

“I. Can’t. Lose them.”

“And you’re not going to,” she said. “We won’t let that happen. We all love them, too, Reid. But we can find them a lot faster if you’re helping us. Okay?”

He tried to focus on the sound of Tara’s voice. Tara, who Bianca had taken a liking to immediately, who had gone with the two of them and Penelope to a Doctor Who convention, who had never been one to throw the word love around lightly. “Okay.” He forced himself to stand and follow her to the roundtable room. “Catch me up,” he insisted.

“I just finished talking with Cat,” Emily said. “She wants to go ice skating so she can, and I quote, skate circles around you. When I told her that wasn’t going to happen, she instructed me to tell Garcia to check her email.”

“Which I am doing now…” Garcia said, typing furiously. “Okay, this just came in.” A video popped up on the screen. A dark haired woman was in the center of the image. “Juliette Weaver, she’s Cat’s old cellmate and she just made parole,” she explained. Even before the video started, Bianca and Elizabeth’s faces were visible. Garcia glanced it him, her kind face pained. “Reid, I’m sorry.” She pressed play.

“Here we go,” Juliette said.

“Mama, what’s happening?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just a game. Everything’s okay.” Bianca was trying so hard to keep her voice even.

“It’s not a good idea for parents to lie to their children.” Juliette walked over to Bianca, whose hands and feet were bound. The woman aimed a swift kick to her ribs. Bianca’s yelp physically hurt him to hear.

“Eliza, close your eyes. Close your eyes, sweetie!” The little girl did as she was told just in time to avoid seeing her mother take a punch that knocked her over. They all heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh several times, and Bianca’s muffled cries. And then there was a gun in Juliette’s hand.

“No, no, no,” whispered Garcia, turning away from the screen.

“Don’t do this,” Bianca said.

But the gun went off anyways.

“NO!” he screamed. Reid felt his knees give way at the sound of the gun and Bianca’s screams as every face in the room froze in horror.

But then Bianca kept screaming. And then the scream turned to a gasp.

“Mama!”

“It’s okay, I’m okay, everything’s okay.” The video abruptly cut off.

“Blanks,” Luke said, putting his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “She fired blanks.” He could feel the air returns to his lungs. Bianca was still alive – for now. But that video was a clear warning. If he wanted to keep them both alive, he had to do what Cat wanted.

“You realize what we have to do, don’t you?” Rossi asked. Reid looked away, the fury building inside of him once more.“It’s the only way to get her to slip up. We have to give her what she wants.”

 “Me,” Reid said.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #102: Li Shuwen

Finally, we get to do a relevant servant! Wait, what do you mean it’s the lancer?

Oh well. Today we’re making Li Shuwen, the God Spear. If you couldn’t tell from that nickname, he’s pretty good at stabbing people.

Unfortunately, “no second strike” was in the cards for this build, but if you hit people quickly enough it’s almost the same thing, right?

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Race and Background

Li’s a Variant Human, giving him +1 Dexterity and Constitution. He also gets Perception proficiency, and the Piercer feat. This allows him to re-roll one die of piercing damage per turn, and critical piercing hits deal an extra die of damage. Turns out, the God Spear is good with spears.

For his background, modify the Mercenary Veteran background, and call it the Martial Artist background instead. This’ll net you Athletics and Insight proficiency.

Ability Scores

Put your highest score in Dexterity- your spear’s powerful, but that came from technique rather than brute force. After that is Wisdom, you have to know where you’re stabbing to get the most out of it. Third is Constitution, which you’ll need plenty of if you’re going to fight Scathach. After that is Intelligence, you’re not particularly bright or stupid. Your Charisma is a bit low, you don’t get that much screentime, but we’re dumping Strength. You don’t need it, and clearly you don’t use it, considering your geriatric version is a full star rarer than you are.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: Being a monk nets you an Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC based on your dexterity and wisdom. You also learn Martial Arts, letting you use Dexterity with your unarmed attacks and monk weapons, and if you attack as an action, you can attack as a bonus action as well.

You also get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Acrobatics and History. Like all servants, you’re literally a part of history, so it makes sense you know something about it.

2. Monk 2: Second level monks get Ki Points, which you can currently spend to dash, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. You start out with a maximum number equal to your monk level, and they recharge on short rests. You also have Unarmored Movement, adding extra distance to your move speed as long as you don’t wear armor. Which you obviously don’t. I mean, look at that final ascension. You’re barely wearing a shirt. 

3. Monk 3: You’re good with a spear, Kensei monks are good with a spear, it’s a pretty solid pick. Kensei monks know the Path of the Kensei, which is basically just how they package all your level three goodies into “one” feature so the other monks don’t get jealous. You turn a melee and ranged weapon into your Kensei weapons, which will be used for your other abilities. Obviously we’re going for the spear, nothing else really matters here. You can also make an Agile Parry, adding 2 to your AC until your next turn if you make an unarmed strike as part of your attack action. Important to note: This isn’t limited to once per turn.

You can also Deflect Missiles as a reaction, weakening a ranged weapon attack, and possibly throwing them back at enemies.

4. Monk 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Dexterity. Monks like dexterity, it’s a thing. You also learn Slow Fall, reducing falling damage as a reaction, and Quickened Healing. You can spend 2 ki points at a bonus action to heal yourself as an action. This scales with your martial arts and proficiency bonus.

5. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack with each attack action, and can make Stunning Strikes, forcing a constitution save (DC 8 plus your wisdom modifier plus your proficiency bonus) or they’re stunned until the end of your next turn. Stunned creatures automatically fail strength and dexterity saves, attacks against them have advantage, and they’re incapacitated for the duration. This is more Older You’s bag, but they’re still you, so why not have it?

You can also spend ki points on your Focused Aim to possibly turn your failed attacks into hits. You only need one attack, so missing is a big issue for you.

6. Fighter 1: You’re really skilled at fighting, but you’re also really skilled at fighting, and you know who else is really skilled at fighting? Fighters. First level fighters get a fighting style, and Blind Fighting will ensure your duels aren’t interrupted by pesky things like “the night”, or “wearing sunglasses indoors”. You also gain a Second Wind, healing yourself as a bonus action once per short rest. It’s like Quickened Healing, but actually fast.

7. Fighter 2: Second level fighters can make an Action Surge once per short rest, adding an extra action to a turn. Combine this with some unarmed attacks and your agile parries, and you’re able to add a +8 bonus to your AC. That’s pretty solid for level 7. Also you hit things real good now.

8. Fighter 3: You’re really skilled at fighting, and really skilled at fighting, but you’re also really skilled at fighting. I don’t think that’s enough skill yet, so let’s go Battle Master to get really skilled at fighting. You can use your Combat Superiority to add maneuvers to your attacks. These use Superiority Dice, 4d8 that recharge on short rests. Maneuvers have a variety of effects, for example, Feinting Attack uses your bonus action to give your next attack advantage, and adds the superiority die to the damage roll. Lunging Attack also deals extra damage, and increases your reach by five feet. For the big brain plays out there, Tactical Assessment adds the superiority die to Investigation, History, or Insight checks. You’re not just good at fighting, you’re skilled at it. I think I said that already.

9. Fighter 4: Use this ASI to become a Martial Adept, gaining a fifth superiority die and two more maneuvers. Brace lets you go all Hektor on an enemy, using your reaction to attack them when they enter your reach and dealing extra damage. Disarming Attack is an attack that disarms, forcing a strength save or the target drops an item they’re holding of your choice.

10. Fighter 5: You get another extra attack, but it doesn’t stack, so we’re moving on.

11. Fighter 6: Max out your Dexterity with this ASI, and spend the other point on Wisdom. Monks love them some wisdom. Not quite as much as dexterity, but it’s still pretty good.

12. Monk 6: Sixth level monks have Ki-Empowered Strikes, making your unarmed attacks magical for overcoming resistances. Kensei monks are also One with the Blade, making your kensei weapons magical and giving you a Deft Strike. You can now spend 1 ki point to deal your martial arts die in extra damage when you hit with a kensei weapon. If you’re using a spear two-handed, plus your maneuvers, that’s now 2d8+1d6+5 damage, which is pretty solid for a stick.

13. Monk 7: Seventh level monks get Evasion, meaning you take half damage from failed dexterity saves and no damage from successful ones. You also have a Stillness of Mind that lets you end charming and frightening effects on yourself as an action. Some call you singleminded, but you’re just focused.

14. Monk 8: Use this ASI to become more Resilient, gaining proficiency with Wisdom saving throws. This also rounds up your wisdom score for some extra AC.

15. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, allowing you to run up walls and over water as long as you end your turn on something solid.

16. Fighter 7: We’ve sped up as much as you’re going to, so let’s head back to hitting things all smartlike. Seventh level battle masters Know Your Enemy, allowing you to gain information on a creature after spending 1 minute outside of combat. You learn if a creature is less powerful, more powerful, or equal to you in two categories: Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, AC, Current HP, Total class levels, or Fighter class levels.

You also get an extra superiority die and another set of maneuvers; Sweeping Attack lets you follow through to hit another creature, and Riposte allows you to make an attack after another creature misses you. Both maneuvers also deal bonus damage.

17. Fighter 8: Use your final ASI to become Tough, gaining 2 HP for each level you have and every level you gain later. 

18. Fighter 9: You become Indomitable- you can re-roll a failed saving throw once per long rest.

19. Fighter 10: You have Improved Combat Superiority, increasing the power of your superiority dice to d10s. You also get one more set of maneuvers- Parry reduces incoming damage, and Menacing Attack forces the creature you’re hitting to make a wisdom save or become Frightened until your next turn.

20. Fighter 11: Your capstone level gives you another Extra Attack, and this one does stack with your existing feature. Deal more damage! Abuse your Agile Parry even harder! The world is your oyster!

Pros

With almost 200 hp, evasion, bonus action dodges, and the ability to bump up your AC by +6 for free, you’re pretty hard to kill when you have to be on the defensive. For you numbers nerds, if you’re using the standard array you’ll end this build with an AC of 18, which you can make 24 with your normal attacks, or 30 with your action surge. And then you can force disadvantage with your bonus action.

Alternatively, your action surge can be used to apply burst damage, dealing plenty of attacks in a single turn and adding deft strikes and maneuvers to your critical hits for even more damage. It’s not quite one strike kills, but we couldn’t make a spear-wielding rogue anyway.

With your frankly silly amount of maneuvers plus your monk abilities, you have plenty of combat options to spice things up in the heat of battle.

Cons

Despite your best efforts, you’re still limited to the small amount of ki and superiority dice per short rest, meaning you’ll have to play things smart in drawn-out battles.

While you can technically use ranged weapons all you want, playing to character means your range is limited to how far you can throw your spear. And unlike the Cu Alter build we just did, you can’t jump 40′ into the air to compensate.

There reaches a point where you just have too many options for doing things. Your bonus actions are busy with monk things, and your reactions are too, with parrying, riposting, bracing, and deflecting missiles. That doesn’t even get into the choice paralysis that’ll creep up when you have to pick a maneuver to use.

[vintage-brass-tc]

4/10/2021

(( Brace yourselves for a long post. 👁 ))

I’m not sure if I gave any more context of this event either, but, last week, I and around 1-2 people from each section were invited by the directors to go help out with something in preparation for next year.

To summarize it briefly, the incoming band students would be trying out some instruments today. Due to COVID restrictions, they couldn’t play the instrument (much) and actually try it out like the usual process. The older band kids given the option to volunteer were going to be the lead examples of what an instrument sounds like.

This means they’d play for people who were interested in hearing them/trying out our instrument. In addition, we also helped make sure the crowd was settled in nicely when we weren’t occupied with said playing.

Of course, I agreed to come right away. Who would turn down a chance to hang out around their TC (ahem, and the band 😳) for a little while?

People could choose to be there for around half of the event— three hours and thirty minutes, give or take— or remain there throughout the full seven-hour duration of work.

I think you know what I’m going to say now, right? Yeah. I chose to stay and pitch in for the whole time. Needless to say, I’m pretty worn out from it all.

(Believe it or not, I practically passed out right after I wrote the previous sentence. Haha, whoops. Hello from the next day!)

Anywho, with all of the background information out of the way, let’s move on to the actual event!!

||||||||||||||||||||||||

I arrived pretty early and assisted the band directors with their setup in the school’s cafeteria. W and I didn’t talk or make eye contact very much, but that was because we were scrambling to get things like the instruments, hand sanitizer stations, music stands, etcetera prepared.

I noticed that M’s wife and daughter, who’s in my band, were here to help all day as well. It was nice to coexist and talk a little with those who M loves and adores.

From what I remember, the first time W spoke within earshot of me was when everyone was given the incentive to warm up on their instruments in the band hall.

He made a stupid joke that I don’t quite remember, but I and some others found it pretty funny. As always, he never failed to lift the room’s spirits, or at the very least my own. If what he said wasn’t enough to keep me going, the smile on his face before he left was adorable as well.

~~

Fast forward to some time later, when I was mingling with other band kids. I thought it’d be fun to join in the frenzy of various pieces being played simultaneously, but I didn’t want to move away from the group to sit down. I thought it would be pretty awkward.

After being sure I wasn’t going to cause any major damage to myself or my instrument, I challenged myself to attempt playing some music on my concert tuba while standing up. I didn’t do this often, so I thought it’d be a fun time to try.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, just as I lifted the tuba upwards, I noticed something in the eastern corner of my gaze; A pair of eyes I knew all too well were already placed on me before I had even begun getting set. My gaze flickered in the observer’s direction for less than a second.

To my surprise, since nobody was talking to him, W decided to focus on me. He was leaning forward on the table he was sat at, with his chin cupped comfortably by his right hand. He watched me with pure curiosity and interest.

I did my best not to look at him outside of my peripheral vision after that to avoid potentially interrupting his thoughts. I also didn’t want to mess up whatever music I had out either since he was listening in on it.

He observed me with this same look on his face until he shot up in his seat and looked forward. I assume there was a person who was approaching him.

Can’t help but wonder why he decided to look at me...and how long he would have been tuning into my mediocre tuba skills if someone hadn’t walked over.

~~

A student was interested in hearing me play the tuba, so I did just that. I believe I played around 6-8 measures of my solo. Despite some minor blips due to a sticking valve, I guess I did pretty decent.

I smiled sheepishly and set my tuba down after my mini performance. A subtle applause rose from the kid’s family, accompanied by a louder clapping to the right of me, which I didn’t quite acknowledge until a voice spoke up.

“Thanks Dad!!” W spoke in a slightly condescending tone while grinning from ear to ear. The sound of his loud voice startled me and I zipped my head over to him. “Wha(ha)t?” I spoke in between some surprised chuckles.

“Your Dad’s clapping...like—” He mimicked a very enthusiastic and very expressive clap for a moment before slapping his knees, leaning forward, and letting out one of his signature loud, giggly laughs. I looked at my father and we laughed along with W for a few seconds more.

After writing this, I’m just now realizing that W must have been paying pretty good attention to me and the situation I was in. I would have never noticed this if he hadn’t spoke up. Wow, haha, that’s pretty cool! (My father decided a volunteer here for a little while in case some people were curious. ^^)

~~

Not as much people wanted to hear the tuba as I thought, so I had some free time on my hands. We were told that we could no longer play out of turn since we were being too loud, so I decided to try to talk to W a little bit while I still could. I watched as he wished the last person currently in line a good day, then I began to walk over to him. As I made my way closer, he lifted his head pretty quickly, and his concentration locked on me. Judging by his serious expression, he may have thought I had an important question to ask him. That threw me off a little bit, and I got nervous.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Uh,” I started, “How‘s the thing going?” By ‘the thing’, I was referring to his job of checking people out of the school. I internally facepalmed at my phrasing.

“Good!” He turned to his computer and hesitated. “Actually, I have a favor to ask you..” I watched as he slouched down a little bit on the desk before popping back up to look at me.

W asked me if I could go ahead and get the directors’ lunch out before the kids got theirs, just in case it all ran out quickly. He then counted the directors for me and forgot to include himself, which we laughed together at after I pointed it out. I went to go grab the packages after the conversation ended.

The whole way to the band hall, where everything was located, I swam through my thoughts. I was grateful that he thought I was good enough to be trusted with keeping track of who got what, food-wise. I’m glad I could help him with that.

After a bit of explaining to some of the students why I was handling the food before lunch and taking multiple portions of it, I was off and giving everything out to the directors. M’s wife already went to get her own food somehow, and she seemed a little bit agitated when I asked if she already got her stuff.

I mean, I’d be pretty mad if someone interrupting my blissful munching moments too, so no shame there. I wonder if M messes with her while she eats sometimes. It seems like something he may do when he’s bored. Haha.

Anyway, I approached W with his stuff, but he was talking to someone, so I slowly came to a stop and just....stood there. Luckily, the guy mentioned I had W’s food, so he looked over. “Thanks R,” he smiled. “Is that all?” He looked at what remained in the bag. “Yep.” I told him that M’s wife had already gotten her stuff beforehand, and he nodded.

After I handed the items to him, he thanked me again. I acknowledged his thanks with a smile before letting him continue talking. A few minutes later, he began to eat.

Can I just point out that the way he eats is so...amusing? It’s like he pays no attention to those around him, instead focusing on engulfing the food in front of him with huge bites at a time. He leaves a mess too while doing this sometimes.

While he’s nomming the stuff down, he uses that time to scan the room with curious eyes. I assume it’s to see if anyone was looking at his Jurassic munching techniques.

Call me weird, but it was all so cute in a way. I had a very tough time directing my eyes off of him at first, but I forced myself to. He was looking near my direction anyway, and I didn’t want him to be like ‘??? R, why are you watching me eat?’. 😳 so yeah

~~

About an hour or so after this lunch incident, I was talking to M’s daughter and someone else. We were chatting casually about something related to our instruments. I just started getting into the conversation when I heard a loud voice call out my name.

“R.” W called from behind me. I perked up, shocked, and stopped talking as soon as his voice rang in my ears. The two people I was speaking to looked in his direction and I followed suit with their action, twisting my body backwards as quick as possible. “Come here.”

He stood there very still, facing me with a serious expression, and I was quite intimidated by this. There was nobody inside a 7-foot radius of him, which further intensified the situation for me. Within another heartbeat, butterflies were swirling in my stomach. I turned back to the two girls and apologized before walking over to see what was up.

I stopped just shy of an arm’s length away from him and met his strong gaze with a face that silently urged him to go on. “I’m going to go to the restroom,” he told me, dipping his upper torso and head down to make his look appear more firm. I responded by lifting my chin up and looking down at him with the same amount of seriousness.

“I need you to stay here and watch. If anyone comes, tell them to wait for me, okay?” He had a hint of a pleading tone in his voice that I couldn’t ignore. “Got it.” I told him. “Sorry!!” He exclaimed in a high-pitched whisper to me as he ran off to the other room. “Not a problem!” I yelled back.

I watched him dash out of the cafeteria doors and halt to a walking pace while he exchanged a couple words with the check-in volunteers. I stopped watching him when he began to walk towards the males’ bathroom again.

I was, again, honored that W trusted me enough to handle something like that. Even if it was a small task like the one he asked from me earlier on, he could have had anyone else do it, but he decided I was reliable enough to. I thought that was pretty cool.

Anyway, I stood there for a bit and noticed a phone faced down on the table. I assumed immediately that it was his, and I observed its beautiful casing. It was decorated with a light gray and white array of lines that sort of gave me a forest vibe.

I never expected something as toned down and serene as this was from him, especially with his crazy energetic attitude I know him from, but it was a very nice sight. I didn’t stare at his phone any further in case anyone thought I was going to snoop or something weird like that.

A family came up and I told them that W would be back in a bit. We chatted for a little while about some band-related stuff until W speed-walked back in. I ended our conversation abruptly before looking at him.

“Thank you so much for your help, R.” He told me sincerely while I stepped out of his way. I didn’t pay attention in the moment to how close we were, but it was definitely very close, somehow still barely avoiding contact. “Sure!” I beamed joyously as my gaze lingered.

“Your phone was going off for twenty minutes,” he told me before he sat back down in his chair. My face widened. “I was??” I paused. “I mean, it was??” He didn’t respond to my slightly panicking tone. Instead, he sat still where he was silently, staring at the person I was just talking to.

“Sorry,” I lightly apologized before heading back to where I had my stuff set up. I checked my notifications didn’t see anything new, so I was pretty confused. Maybe he was trying to get me to go away or something, hence the effort on his face to not respond. 😳

~~

The last thing here was just me wishing him a good weekend, and him saying “thank you for helping“, with me thanking him back afterwards.

Overall, this day was great. My arms are so sore from hauling the extra instrument cases around(the tuba cases for newcomers are unbelievably heavier than my current one), but the moments I shared with W and the band made it so worth it. ^^

Hope everyone’s having a great weekend and staying safe.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Charred Briar Roses - 4

Meet the Family 

Paring: Orc!Bucky x Black!Reader, Orc!Steve x Black!OFC, Orc!Sam x Black!OFC

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 3,500

Summary: The girls get to meet the family.

Warnings: Smut and Mentions of Death

A/N: I’m sorry that this took so long to publish. I had a major writer’s block. Also, the smut is not as good as I wanted so bear with me. Enjoy!

Back to Masterlist

It took five days to reach the group to reach the Orc Settlement. Most of the journey consisted of Fumnanya giggling at Sam’s (not so great, but whatever) jokes while sneaking in a kiss or two, Ghada acting like she’s above the romance then getting caught making out with Steve (she seriously likes it), and you giving Bucky the cold shoulder. You saw the regret in his eyes, but you were too stubborn to give him a chance.

The Orc Settlement was located in the lowlands of the Anchoria Steppes not far from the Tsurchack Forest with its center nestled between a segmented river and a good sized lake to its right. It consisted of a few hundred dwellings that seemed to be a nice cross between a yurt and a longhouse (**think Viking Longhouse**) built with reusable timber, metal, and stone. A couple of the dwellings near the edges were sectioned off into what looked to be farms of six to ten families. There were training areas and market places interspersed throughout the settlement. In the middle, there was a large arena like structure near the center next to what had to be the Elder’s Residence with more town like structures around them. Surrounding the whole settlement was a wall of stone, packed earth, and iron about 12ft high with sensors (probably a force field) sticking on top of it every five feet or so.

It looked beautiful, so different from your former home of extreme decadence.

“Welcome to our home. I know it’s not as-” Steve started.

“It’s beautiful!” Ghada exclaimed while turning her head to smile at him, “We don’t care where you live. We’re just glad you agreed to take us with you.” Steve responded with a low hum and gave her a kiss.

It would’ve been more, but Bucky cleared his throat, “We need to report to the elders as soon as possible.” It was followed by, “And not have you suck your match’s face.” Thankfully neither of the two lovebirds heard him.

Some of the children in front of the gates ran up to the group with bright eyes and smiles wondering if they brought back sweets and toys.

Steve smiled and responded with a ‘You’ll see’ and motioned to the elder’s residence.

Once you passed the front gates, you and your sisters were greeted with reactions ranging from awe to outright contempt. You wondered if they knew of your identities, but Bucky assured you that it was because his people are a bit weary of outsiders. He decided not to tell you about how some of Sophronius’ forces had the almost the exact same hair color and types of clothes, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to get the elders to let you three stay.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

When they reached the Elder’s Residence – a large longhouse consisting of wood, stone, metal and sturdy fabrics at the top – you stopped yourself from taking another step passed the threshold. What if they didn’t accept you? What if the elders or other members ratted you out to Sophronius? Or will they just have you exiled once they get the riches you and your sisters brought?

Bucky sensed your trepidation and put an enormous hand on your right shoulder, “It’s okay. You’ve got this.” With that your group entered the building.

The elders sat on a raised rectangular dais in the middle of the room with two guards on either end. There was a chandelier and torches all around the main room. Various statues and artifacts of elders passed are placed/hung around the room.

It was intimidating to say the least.

“Welcome back, warriors! Were you successful in your mission?” One of the elders,  Argusa, inquired in Orcish.

“We ran into an old woman who directed us to the lost capital of the Nephrashim.” Steve explained.

“That is nothing but myth, Rogers! If you found nothing than just say so. Honestly, one would think that the halflings would be better at excuses than this.” One of the guards, Figrel, scoffed. He later raised his hands in surrender when Bucky moved in to pummel him.

“Enough, Figrel! Please continue Steve.” Cladista, another elder, gently urged.

“We found the capital to be deserted...except for the princesses. They were at the palace. They agreed to come back with us and we were able to procure valuable medical supplies, building materials, and treasure that we might use for trade.” Steve reported as the elders fixed their gazes onto you and your sisters.

The staring went on for three minutes. No one made a sound as the elders were casting their initial judgement upon you.

With a loud sigh, Argusa spoke in Common Tongue, “We will hear their case. Tell us, why should we let you stay with us?”

Ghada took a cautious step forward, “My sisters and I can offer our services. Fumnanya is a skilled medic and scholar, Y/N is an amazing inventor and metalworker, and I am trained in trade deals and negotiations. Furthermore, all three of us are pretty well versed in combat and culinary arts.” She appealed while searching for any sign of approval from the elders.

“We can attest to their skills if it’s of any consequence.” Sam piped up when it got eerily quit again.

“Interesting. What do you think, Zadia? You’ve been awfully quiet.” Argusa inquired as she turned to the last elder.

“Hmm. They can stay with Bucky’s sisters and stepmother for now. We shall see about their services another time. Enjoy your stay, girls.” Zadia decided while motioning the group to leave.

The short excursion to Bucky’s family’s place was nice. More people warmed up to you (and by that I mean no one gave the three of you blatant glares of contempt), some even walked up and asked questions about you.

It was nice, but all that didn’t matter if Bucky’s family didn’t like you.

You kept telling yourself that you didn’t care what they thought of you, but you knew that was a lie. It angered you that you cared so much. He was the one that said no! Then why did it hurt so much?

Bucky’s sisters and stepmother lived on a farm near the outskirts of the settlement. It comprised of one large dwelling with four smaller ones surrounding it in a circular fashion. Outside of the dwelling circle were smaller cabins and huts for storing food, livestock, hunting tools and combat weapons, and stables for their dire wolves and eagle horses.

It was nice getting to know Bucky’s family. He had three younger sisters – Rebecca (Becca/Becky), Isolde, and Melisende (Meli) – along with Aspasia, his stepmother, a brother-in-law and three nieces and one nephew. They joked and laughed with you three about embarrassing hijinks the guys performed during their youth. You shared some of the your stories about Nephrashim and your former lives. They quickly accepted the three of you as family.

Furthermore, it was nice not having to worry about princess duties and royal decorum. All of you helped around the farm doing several chores for the first time; you didn’t have any hiccups besides Fumnanya freaking out over one of the eagle horses, but Sam handled it.

The only thing that could be better is the treatment you got from the rest of the settlement. Most of the inhabitants either scowled or just pretended that you three didn’t exist. Becca explained that it was because almost none of them had seen clothes and features (hair/eyes) like yours before, but you knew better. It was because they knew you were from Nephrashim. Bucky’s family never breathed a word about it outside the farm’s borders and you doubted the elders would say anything.

Well, you hoped that it would get better. And it did.

An outbreak of Sxtatzia (a cross between Smallpox and Influenza but for orcs) swept through the settlement. Most of the inhabitants who were infected got better except for Zadia.

Just about everyone had lost hope when Sam and Bucky marched in with Fumnanya and Meli in tow (Fumnanya had been teaching Meli some basic medical procedures and best practices). Fumnanya was able to work her magic after Sam threat-, ahem, insisted the guards let her look at the elder. It took the team four hours to create a viable and effective cure.

The day after Zadia was shown to be steadily getting better, the elders put the former princesses to work. Ghada assisted the traders in negotiations, trade deals and some body language/social cues that surprisingly holds up. Fumnanya taught the medics the different practices, poultices, and minor surgical procedures she knew. You taught the metal artisans what you knew about engineering and metalworking techniques.

The warriors couldn’t be happier with this new development. Well, maybe they missed having the three of you near them most of the time, especially Bucky.

––––––––––––––––––––

It had been three weeks and you still hadn’t talked to him besides an occasional sentence and he was getting pissed. Everyone else tip-toed around the subject of you two and it didn’t help that Steve and Sam were getting closer with their matches. Bucky had to go on hunting trips on his own if only to have a respite from the non-stop lovey-dovey chatter about their matches.

He finally got his chance when he was walking (lurking) around the blacksmiths/artisan section where you had your workshop set up. You were giving a welding demonstration when a little shit, Figrel’s younger brother, attempted to grab your ass.

Bucky strode right into the workshop, punched the little shit, threw you over his shoulder, and went on his merry way back to his dwelling on his family’s farm.

“What the fuck was that?!” you shouted as he plopped you onto a nest of cushions.

“I can’t let you go back there. All those eyes leering at you.”

“What do you care? You were the one who said no at the baths!” You countered as you stood up to take your leave.

You didn’t even make it past him because he growled in frustration and spun you around to face him.

He inwardly smirked at your whimpering, loving the way your lower lip quivered.  

“Because you’re MINE!” Bucky bellowed.

You gazed up at him with coy smile, “Prove it,” and he smashed his lips against yours and pushed you onto his bed.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bucky may have had plenty of sexual partners, but he never kissed anyone...until you. Now he could see what all the fuss was about.

He pried open your mouth with his tongue and groaned when you accepted him while wrapping your arms around his thick neck. He loved the way your tongue danced with his and ended with your graceful but fierce submission.

Once he finally broke for air, Bucky moved to your jaw and neck gently nipping your skin with his tusks. He peppered you with kisses causing small moans to escape your desperate lips.

“Bucky please!” You pleaded as he sent waves of heat to your core.

Bucky stopped his touches, looked you right in the eye, and responded with, “Not yet,” and continued undoing you.

He ripped off your vest and worker blouse and hummed at the sight of your chest. Seeing you now, panting with a ‘giddy fucked’ face, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, made almost all the blood in his face go straight to his cock.

He dove into your chest, licking and gently sucking your breasts while you grabbed his soft dark brown (almost black) hair moaning his name. He worked your breasts so well that you came for the first time in your life within minutes.

“Bet you’ve never had one of your human boys do this to you, woman?” Bucky remarked with a smirk as he ripped off the rest of your clothing like it was tissue paper.

You could only gasp out a ‘No’ before Bucky sprinkled your midsection and hips with sloppy, desperate kisses (he used a lot of tongue) which again caused you moan. You wondered how much more you could take.

The Fae’s training never prepared you for this!

When he finally got to your thighs, Bucky hummed as he took in the sweet smell of your arousal. He faintly kissed and nipped at your inner thighs causing you to cry out in euphoria and impatience. He ignored your cries and gave your slit one long, slow lick.

You hissed at the sensation both from how amazing it felt and frustration from both Bucky and yourself for denying it from happening sooner.

Bucky’s enormous tongue attacked you pussy alternating between your clit and your folds. He soon added a thick finger to the mix causing to edge again and again until you beseeched him to let you come.

“You’re MINE princess! SAY IT!!”

You whimpered at his demand and Bucky stopped moving altogether.

“SAY IT!!”

You mewled, “I’m yours! I’m your bitch!”, you answered remembering what Becca said male Orcs loved to hear their women say.

Bucky chuckled and got up to remove his clothes and decided to make a show of it.

You were sober enough to gaze lustfully at his sleek, muscular, ruggedly handsome frame. You heard the women in the settlement gossip about how they thought the likes of Bucky is wasted on a ‘stupid trollop’ like you.

Checkmate bitches!

He removed his loincloth, his last bit of clothing, to reveal a behemoth of a cock.

You almost gulped at the size. You and your sisters have heard about cocks from gossiping maids and servants before the curse. Those ones sounded like they were a good size, but Bucky’s was on a much higher level.

Bucky, the lovable but cocky bastard, smirked, “Never seen one this big, huh?”

You bit your lip and looked down in shame, “I haven’t seen one at all.”

“And it’ll be the last one you’ll see, sweetheart.”

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle as Bucky parted your legs and lined his cock at your entrance.

He went in slowly as to not hurt you, but you still hissed at the size of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Bucky grunted, “So tight!”

He filled you to the hilt and stayed there for a few minutes while he helped you get your breathing under control.

He started with slow strokes, savoring the way your pussy squeezed him, like you were made for him. He tried to keep it slow out of respect since it was for first time, but you felt so good so he picked up his pace.

The earlier feeling of discomfort at his size soon faded into euphoria. You never dreamt of pleasure like this. Now you understood what your and Bucky’s sisters were going on about. You mewled when Bucky hit your G-Post just right.

It wasn’t long before your first orgasm hit you like a tsunami and you convulsed around him a wave after wave of carnality washed over you. Soon Bucky came with a roar, shooting long thick ropes of his cum into you to the point of creating a bulge in your midsection and you passed out.

When you awoke, you felt a strong arm wrapped around you and a hand gently stroking your hair and back.

“I know you’re awake, sweetheart.”

You open your eyes and looked up to see love (actual love, not lust) and understanding etched in Bucky’’s features. You never knew you needed it, for someone to actually see you for yourself, not what you could give them.

He exhaled, “I’m sorry for the baths. It’s just that I didn’t want to have sex and then you’d leave me. I know it selfish, but-”

You stopped him with a soft kiss on the lips, “Why would I leave you? You actually see me for myself and not for my former station or as an annoyance. Okay, minus your sisters, stepmother, nieces and nephew because they are awesome.”

Bucky chuckled as his some of his long hair fell in front of his face, “I’ll be sure to tell them that, but not Becca. She has a big ego as it is.”

You giggled in response,”That’s fair,” you bit your lip and shot Bucky a coy look, “Do you want to go again?”

You didn’t need to ask him twice.

You two were at it for the rest of the day. The sounds of your lovemaking evident to the rest of the farm’s inhabitants.

“Finally!” Becca exclaimed as she and Ghada were sewing new clothes for the orclings.

Isolde chose that moment to walk into the common room, “Yes! I get my room back!”

The princesses and their matches were in bliss. Everything was right with the world...until it wasn’t.

––––––––––––––––––

It was two months after you and Bucky officially got together. The whole settlement had gotten into an easy rhythm of things when one of scout’s warning horns went off.

“It’s the Horde!”

Everyone who was not fighting was running to the shelters. Bucky had asked you to stay with Becca’s children and mother. You wanted to get angry, but you knew it was because he  wanted someone he trusted and loved to have his stepmother’s back. So you grabbed Waning Swan and ran to the shelters.

The battle lasted until morning and the settlement won, but at a price. Casualties came in at  80 dead and 200 wounded. The scariest thing wasn’t the gore or the corpses, it was the words, “He Knows”, scorched into the ground in front of the arena, or the Assembly Place.

Later that day, everyone who was able crowded into Assembly. Everyone’s eyes were boring into you. Fumnanya kept her head to Sam’s chest, but it wasn’t working.

“I knew those harlots were trouble the moment they strode into our settlement!” A woman who lost her mate to the battle shouted. A chorus of shouts of agreement followed.

Ghada was getting nervous as evident by her squeezing both yours and Steve’s hand. Luckily someone stood up for the group.

“I understand that you’ve suffered, Brida. I lost a son to the Horde, but we can’t blame it all on them. Sophronius has been after us for years. Be reasonable.” Agi stated while the guys gave him a nod of appreciation.

“Fuck that! You’re only saying that because you were they’re mates instructor and your nephew married one those mongrel bitches!” Baldo, another older warrior, exclaimed.

Big mistake.

It would take ten years to ascertain what really happened in the five minutes that followed. Baldo was thrown out of the Assembly, Brida was nursing a broken jaw, Becca had a wound on her left forearm from a sword, and Bucky had to be kept from attacking an idiot by Sam, Steve, Agi, and five other orcs. Everyone else was in an uproar and honestly, a full on fight was going to break out.

“SILENCE!” Argusa roared.

“We need to rebuild. Callisa, can we get a status report by the end of the day?”

Callisa was about to answer when someone demanded that they should do something about the Horde.

Steve gave everyone in your group a knowing and somewhat crestfallen look, “We’ll go to the Resistance and see if they can help.”

It took some minutes before Argusa gave the group an answer. The settlement tried to stay away from Sophronius and the war, but one could say their chickens have come home to roost.

“Alright then, you three take the girls and go first thing tomorrow.” Argusa decided.

“It’s not fair! You just got ‘ere, Auntie! Ingunn cried as she hugged Ghada. All of the orclings were crying and it was breaking your and your sister’s hearts. They’ve made such an impact in your lives that it hurt to leave them now.

“I’m sorry, love, but we have to leave. We’ll be back before you know it.” Ghada reassured her, but you had a feeling it would be a while before your group would return.

With one final hug and a pat, you said your goodbyes to the orclings. Meli, Isolde, Aspasia, Becca, and her mate, Gernot were waiting for you all at the gate.

“I know you’re sad about leaving us, but we will meet again my dears.” Aspasia uttered as she gave each of you a hug.

“Take care and keep these knuckleheads in line.” Becca joked while she gave Bucky a playful punch to the shoulder.

So with a heavy heart, you left the place that felt more like home in many ways than the place you were born.

The group headed southwest to the coordinates a trader said that he saw some Resistance Members. You were crossing a valley when an unscented flash landmine went off and everything went blinding white then black.

Next thing you knew, your group was in chains surrounded by a group protected by shadow...except for five individuals wearing necklaces and a medallion that belonged to…

“Mother!”

Taglist:

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[itsuki-minamy]

BEFORE ZERO:  CHAPTER 5 “BATTLE START”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Before Zero (Chapter List) 

The moment Minato Hayatoshi entered the room following Habari Jin, the smell of blood and burned flesh snorted.

The room was surrounded by dim darkness. Not only were the lights turned off, but the windows were also blocked that should let in sunlight.

But it is not completely dark. The red, blue and radiant light of different abilities hit each other while flashing violently. The battle is on.

Based on information confirmed in advance, this room must be a shared room of less than 20 tatami mats. Not enough room for a full-scale battle. However, Minato's eyes, which began to get used to the darkness, clearly recognized a space that was larger than that.

A large space has been created by removing the walls of several rooms, focusing on the common room of the detention center. Is it a space for interception created in anticipation of an attack from the outside, or is "Purgatory" living in the facility piercing the wall in a playful way? He doesn't know, but this hasty "corridor" had turned into the biggest battlefield of the day anyway.

When the two of them started moving towards the shadows, looking at their surroundings ...

"Habari! And Minato!"

There was a call from the corner of the room.

"Zenjo, what is the situation?"

When Habari calls again...

"I'm addicted to this! I was waiting in this room!"

Zenjo said again as he dealt with three black clothes. The face that removes their fangs seems to laugh.

"And there is a nasty guy."

At the same time as that word, a thin whip-shaped mass of flames burst out of the darkness and attacked Habari like a poisonous snake.

When Habari instantly drew his sword and turned his "head", the flaming whip shrunk and recoiled, sucking on the hand of a man a dozen meters away and disappearing.

"Are you Soma?"

Answering Habari's question...

"Yes, it's me."

The man replied in a fuzzy tone.

Thin, thread-like eyes on the back of light-colored sunglasses. A smile that seems to stick to his mouth. It has a mask-like face that cannot be read.

The tall, slim physique and moderate demeanor, in the "Purgatory" martial arts group, their hair color is slightly different.

His "uniform", even a black suit that spreads a feeling of intimidation, only for this man, looks like a clean dress.

"Purgatory", Executive Soma Hitoshi.

He is also called the advisor and number 2 of the "Red King".

"Welcome, Habari-san. And I'm sorry. It is the appearance of the "Blue King", but my general is sleeping in the back... God only knows when he will wake up."

Soma speaks with a unique intonation like Kansai Ben's, which is exaggerated in a cartoon.

"Even if I don't get this far, I'll take care of you. I don't think it's possible, but I'll try."

"No, Soma. There is no shortage for the other party."

With a beaming smile, Habari held up the saber. The vanguard aims at the heart of Soma.

"Far from being unreasonable, you are an uncomfortable opponent. You can be said to be the worst except for Kagutsu. If you don't die soon, they will kill you."

"Ah, I must be careful. Really. A face-to-face showdown with a 'King'..."

Soma pulled out a cigarette case from his chest.

"Before that, let's take a break, huh."

When the breathless Habari smiled a bitter smile, Soma also bowed with a masked smile, then took a cigarette and raised his left hand to his face.

The little finger on Soma's left hand was missing at the second joint. The cross section of the cut finger glows red with the extraordinary capacity of the flame. That was Soma's "Holy Mark".

Using the chipped finger in place of a lighter and moving the fire toward the tip of the cigarette, Soma began to smoke deeply.

Meanwhile, the sound of the sword battle between "Scepter 4" and "Purgatory" echoes through the room. Also, what hides it is the moan of the wounded black clothes.

However, Soma pays no attention to them at all. Habari also just looks at Soma with interest.

Finally, Soma turned his face towards the ceiling and exhaled for a long time.

"Fuu..."

Soma moved his left hand forward at the perfect moment to cut off the conversation. It is like throwing luggage in his hand, but he has nothing in his palm. Instead, a high-pressure "flame" erupted from the severed surface of the little finger and was shot into the space in front of it.

Soma's technique is called "whip". The flame that emerges from the missing finger cross section literally flutters like a whip. Autonomy and trajectory.

Like a laser, like a poisonous snake, the flaming whip piercing the darkness was not targeting Habari, but Minato at his side. The moment the tip of the fire whip seemed to crush Minato's eyebrows, Habari's saber flashed and the blade with a blue light flickered from the side.

The flaming whip that floated in the air for a moment, when swiftly swaying like a snake, attacks Habari this time in an arc-shaped orbit.

As he touched the head of the whip again, Habari stomped, crossing the "hole" in an instant with his extraordinary leg strength, and advanced until he reached Soma.

Whether or not the difference in range between the whip and the saber changes to the saber advantage when sneaking into the chest, the fire whip, which moves more freely and precisely than a live arm, is fully functional even in attack and defense at close range.

Habari and Soma began to fight a fierce battle.

In contrast to Habari's sword skill, which unifies all of his sword, body, and abilities, Soma keeps his left hand down and does not hold it.

The whip that extends from the little finger blinks rapidly like a creature of its own will and accurately repels the blue blade that thrusts itself over and over again. Soma himself protects his body with the whip, keeps the cigarette in his mouth and adjusts his standing position calmly leading the stars in a dance.

"After all…"

Habari said without any sign of discomfort.

"It is not easy to kill if the messenger is on the defensive."

"No... this is barely."

Soma responds with a suffocating tone and finally spits out a cloud of smoke.

"Minato!"

Without letting go of his swordsman's hand or looking back, Habari said...

"Please rebuild the place. Ask the others."

"Yes."

Within 30 seconds after that, she takes control of the battlefield and makes a breakthrough.

Minato quickly looked around. Eyes accustomed to the dark pick up the situation in the room and the disposition of his companions and the strength of the enemy, and reconstruct the history of the battle in his brain.

That way, Minato must understand, how "Scepter 4" and "Purgatory" have been fighting in this room for the past few minutes.

And how Akio died.

++++++++++

The "Saw Traction Unit", which deviates from the original "Scepter 4" powerful control and cooperates at high speed by reflexes and instinct, has the power to easily cut through "Purgatory" like a flock of beasts. Neither a group of daring black suits nor executives with destructive abilities could contain a swarm of rapidly rotating blades.

However, the situation changes when a strange brain named Soma appears in the herd.

Soma was an exceptional technician among the powerful and crudely talented of "Purgatory." He was a genius who reached the realm of art, a genius comparable to Zenjo and the "Saw Traction Unit", and an advanced precision machine.

"Red King", from the existence of Kagutsu, flowing through the relationships formed by the facility, raging in the body, a tremendous amount of heat gives the subordinate clansman the power of destruction, but in the end, the energy it will burn its own body.

Soma is in full control of his own free will.

A strong "individual conscience" that does not renounce its own reason even with the "King of violence" on top, that is the basis of Soma's technique and also the reason for his peculiar position.

His position is the "immovable number 2" position in "Purgatory."

There is no organized chain of command in the prison. Like a flock of beasts, there is only one hierarchy of forces, which is very fluid and fluctuates with replacement of personnel.

It is not limited to this, the situation always boiled in a violent whirlpool around the "Red King". Nothing can maintain a firm presence there.

However, in the situation where even life is lost in an instant, Soma has been Kagutsu's assistant for about two years.

As a ghost beast that lives in lava, he himself is a superhuman by Kagutsu's side, and is an abnormal existence.

However, personal characteristics and abilities are only part of Soma's danger.

Soma was the best in individual combat technology and at the same time, he had more skill as a group commander. The whip of fire that pierces the heart, leaving the enemy's neck, was also the whip of a beast master who commanded a group of allies.

When Soma appears on the battlefield, the black clothes fighting for a strong self-begin to behave as if they are living creatures with only one will. Soma himself does not give clear instructions or strike the underside of the black robes, but Soma's "whip", which has both precise movement and long range, intervenes at key points in the battle unfolding around it. By doing so, he can control the transition from the war situation.

It was a unique ability in all clans under the Seven Kings. To put it bluntly, it was close to the combat assistance provided by Hayato Minatoshi's slow knife, but it was even more sophisticated and strategic. The flaming whip that runs between the beasts was an extension of Soma's brain, a nerve fiber that controls the body of a beast.

In fact, even in this "hall", the black robes of "Purgatory" acted under Soma's intent without being aware of themselves, releasing the power of fire and dispersion. Soma's "one move on the board", and because of that they burned their lives and collapsed, they were the game pieces that Soma enjoyed, the exploding stones and the abandoned stones.

The black clothes self-destructing special attack folds up, and Zenjo and the "Saw Traction Unit" split up and isolate themselves.

A group of swordsmen who surpassed the instinct of the beast were on the verge of being crushed when entangled in a mysterious and unusual intelligence.

++++++++++

But now…

Habari represses Soma's actions. The tentacles are blocked and the giant beast once again divided into an uncontrolled swarm of beasts.

"Scepter 4, get together!"

Minato threw a knife to each corner of the room in rapid succession, giving a sharp command.

The black clothes of "Purgatory" are like amateurs in the sense of a group battle. Without Soma's guidance, they couldn't cooperate properly. The individually encircled and divided chainsaws were able to quickly defeat several black clothes and escape by simply hammering in a few knives and creating an opportunity.

Zenjo, Azuma, Bado, Chidjiiwa, Daiba. When the five men gathered together, Minato called to Habari's back.

"Commander!"

"Yes."

While shooting a strong blow in moderation, Habari jumps away from Soma, after a few steps back, he is left with Minato and Zenjo.

"Habari!"

"Commander, are you safe?"

Habari gives brief instructions to the men who speak to him.

"Rebuild the 'Saw Traction Unit'. Not everyone can go."

"But Akio is not here!"

Zenjo said that. It was also a word that he said for the other members.

Zenjo and the others understand. The "Saw Traction Unit" is not just a team of powerful swordsmen. It is a fierce precision machine in which individual qualities and unconsciousness are intertwined at the instinct level, it cannot move properly without Akio, one of the gears.

But…

"I will take the place."

When Habari said that, everyone was shocked by the void for a moment and understood immediately.

Certainly, Habari will have sword skill and divine judgment, and Habari Jin will more than make up for the hole Akio Minato has left.

"But, Commander..."

Minato won.

The "Saw Traction Unit" is, so to speak, the "king's alternate force" in clan fighting, and it is the end of the story that the "Blue King" himself joins it. In the unlikely event that they are killed outright with the "Red King", it can unleash an unprecedented disaster, the "outbreak of royalty."

"Yes, Minato."

Habari responded with Minato's will.

"Today we cannot fight Kagutsu. This battle is our defeat. So…"

Habari turned the tip of the saber toward Soma.

"Today's ultimate goal is to seize the head of 'Purgatory' executive, Hitoshi Soma, and retire."

"Oh."

Zenjo, Azuma, Bado, Chidjiiwa, and Daiba resumed in anger and fighting spirit.

It was a reasonable place to end the battle that Akio lost.

"The same order."

"I will need your eyes again."

Minato leaning forward was controlled by Habari's words and Zenjo's hand.

"Go ahead, Minato. Now, I'll get souvenirs in the fall."

Zenjo was sharpening his fangs to laugh. There was only anger in his eyes.

The words ran out and the remaining killing intent focused on Soma with a sharp eye.

"Really."

Soma coughed with a smile on the edge of his mouth.

A chunk of ash fell from the tip of the cigarette.

"Everyone, draw your swords!"

They have already drawn their swords. Members of the "Saw Traction Unit" ceremonially repositioned the swords they had been holding.

Zenjo has a saber, Azuma has a twin sword, Bado has a spear, and Chidjiiwa and Daiba have daggers.

"With a sword, according to heaven, our justice is incomparable. "Saw Traction Unit", mission execution!"

With the command, his specialties were tinged with an extraordinary light. As he spilled the blood that wet the blade, it was blue, strong and glowing brightly, illuminating every corner of the "hole".

The six-body "Saw Traction Unit" has been revived. He was a divinely combative figure who turned anger and murder into light.

Soma got ready for the first time. In the next moment, a series of super speed attacks can turn to dust.

Distrustful of the reassembled "Scepter 4", the black robes that had been rolling in the distance began to move in anticipation of the resumption of the battle.

The tension was building in the room again.

++++++++++

There is still something.

Minato's consciousness couldn't fully digest the sensation of strange matter in the corner of his thoughts.

First of all, the "Saw Traction Unit" was a perfect wall. It was a unit organized to be a perfect wall. No matter how strange Soma was, there should have been no possibility of attaching him to the ring of blades spinning at high speed.

What killed Akio, an unknown factor that broke the "ring" circulating in the perfect wall should still be in this room.

Minato looked around the "hallway" again. Before, he was paying attention to the position and movement of humans, but now that he's in a winning state, I've also noticed things around him.

Remnants of battle and destruction on the floor and ceiling. A blackout curtain that closes the window. Concrete fragments still remain on the edges of the perforated loose walls.

And he can see that furniture like sofas, tables, and shelves were the living space of "Purgatory."

Part of the view is hidden behind the pillars. Minato moved carefully and changed his mind.

Akio had fallen there.

"……"

Minato snuck under Akio, hiding in the shadows.

He hugged her body from behind, but she wasn't breathing and he wasn't ready to move. From the amount of bleeding around her and the huge wounds that pierced her while burning her heart, he was sure that she had died instantly.

A long saber rolls beside him. Akio's favorite sword, "Shiden".

It is not an offensive or defensive attitude. It is a situation that makes him imagine how she was suddenly beaten and killed with one blow.

There were no scratches on her face, and the wide-eyed expression remained as it was.

A slight expression of surprise.

Even if she was attacked by an enemy, she would have reflexively avoided him and blown him head off with a flash of "Shiden". That was the reason why she was selected as a member of the "Saw Traction Unit", and her qualities.

What surprised Akio? What kind of enemy could she not respond to?

Minato surveyed the surroundings while being aware of Akio's point of view.

Half-eaten pizza on the low table. A gaming machine is hooked up to a big screen television near the wall and a controller is lying around.

Do black clothes play games?

When he thought that...

"Uncle, what are you doing?"

He hears a voice from behind.

Minato looked back. A knife that slides from his sleeve into the palm of his hand pierces the enemy's heart the next moment. That was the moment.

But…

Minato's hand stopped when he saw the black clothes behind him.

It was a fatal delay in reaction.

In front of Minato was a young man, not a boy, but he was under 20 years old.

The sleeves of a black suit that he is not used to wearing are rolled up.

In fact, a poor intelligent student than a member of a violent organization.

It reminded him of his twin sons waiting at home.

The other day when their high school uniforms were tried on, they both appeared to be wearing uniforms.

"Is it too big?" Says Minato.

"They'll be big soon.", Akio replied.

Then, Minato understood.

"Akio, you too... you saw this kid."

"Ha, what is that, idiot?!"

The boy's fist was covered in red flames along with his forearms.

An extraordinarily strong fist pierced Minato's chest. He couldn't allow him to speak.

In a short time before he collapses to the ground, his eyes are quickly defeated and his vision closes to darkness.

A child's voice was heard from above the fallen Minato.

"Hey, this is two stars."

Then another boy, probably the same age, called.

"He was about to die now. Satsuki, it was dangerous too."

"I don't feel like I'm going to lose to him."

"He thought you were a boy and was not careful."

"I am not a child."

++++++++++

"Minato!"

From somewhere far away, Zenjo's voice is heard.

"Wait, Zenjo."

The commander stopped Zenjo.

"Zenjo, now, focus on Soma."

Is this a member of Kagutsu?

"If you defeat Soma, you can do anything else."

The voice is far away. It's like saying something of a swordsman.

This may be a scene he need to stop.

The "Saw Traction Unit" is dangerous equipment that tends to run out of control.

Above all, because the commander is also interesting and inspiring.

The group is also constantly fighting.

"Habari!"

Something suddenly became noisy.

"This sign... he's the one."

Commander.

"Wow, it's finally here."

Soma looks.

A wave of sound. The opening voice of "Purgatory" that shakes the space.

"Come on, ours."

The boy's excited voice.

++++++++++

"Oh, I can't hear it anymore. Something vibrates on the ground... don't distract me."

What the hell was he talking about?

He wondered if that boy was saying, "I'm not a boy."

What happens? If he thinks he have grown up, he is still a child. That age is very difficult.

"Akio, what do you think?"

"Stupid, do you really want to deal with kids?"

"Oh, not at all. Exactly correct."

"You are a kind person. And always make the right decisions."

"There is no mistake in the important things in front of you, the things you must protect and order."

"Today and in the future."

"Where will you go next?"

"As always, I'll jump as I want."

"Of course, I am with you."

END

[musingsofsaturn]

Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter One

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: T for bad language

This Chapter’s Word Count: 1,700+

Summary: Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard's life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn't anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

[Photo taken from Jenna’s Pie Palace. This chapter’s recipe is Blueberry Bacon Pie. (Or just blueberry if you’re veggie like me.) Bon appetit!]

Småby Bend was a small town of little significance to everyone apart from its residence. It had a charming market square which hosted a farmers’ market on Wednesday mornings, neat residential streets that were cited as being ‘perfect for raising a family’, and one small train station with a train running twice a day to the nearest city. It seemed like everybody knew everyone else, though nobody was really paying attention to each other. Time moved slower in Småby Bend; it wasn’t the fast-paced town for commuters and rat-racers. It was the steady home of routine mundanity.

Just to the west of the market square, nestled in between a book shop and a pharmacy, sat The Snøffnug Café. It had stood in the same spot for fifty years, and would be there for fifty more. The owner, Cliff, was known for being grouchy and stern – his wife had died twenty years earlier and he hadn’t been the same since. As an ex-army man, Cliff ran a tight ship; the schedules for his staff were specific and he expected punctuality, his stock was always carefully managed, and he valued the reputation the café had for serving the best cup of coffee to the East the North Mountain.

While Cliff didn’t give a wonderful first impression, the people who worked for him understood his ways. The anxious Elsa thrived on routine and organisation anyway, so the sweet-natured woman was in her element at The Snøffnug Café (although her eye did begin to twitch nervously if Cliff started to yell). Bulda was an outgoing and high-spirited woman, a mother hen to her friends and customers, who was quick with a sassy remark to her boss that somehow never overstepped the line. And then there was Anna.

There was the ghost of a confident, bubbly girl in Anna. She was known to many, but very few people could consider themselves her friend. Her exterior was reserved and collected, but those who knew her well recognised the swirling depths of the thoughts she was lost in. Everyone in Småby Bend knew her reputation for being the best baker for miles, and her talent for flavour combinations and perfect techniques drew in daily customers to the café.

In the early afternoon of a cloudy Tuesday, Anna was tucked safely in the kitchen of The Snøffnug Café, kneading some dough as a bubbling pot of blueberries cooked on the stove. Her hands worked feverishly, pressing the dough hard into the workbench, pulling it back in on itself, before pushing it back down with force. Outside of the kitchen, there was the background noise that Anna was well accustomed to; the chatter of customers, the whirring of the coffee grinder, the bell above the door chiming as someone entered or left.

In her peripheral vision, Anna noticed the slight frame of Elsa as she walked in and started to prepare a grilled cheese for one of her customers.

“Ooh, what’s today’s pie, then?” Elsa inquired lightly.

“Blueberry-Bacon,” Anna replied. “I wanted to make something sweet and familiar, with a bit of a surprise hidden in it.”

“Sounds amazing – save me a slice when it’s done!” Anna affirmed that she would, and the two women worked in silence for a few moments. “Anna, what did that pie dough do to you?”

Anna ceased her actions. “What?”

“Well, it- You’re treating it like you saw it kick a puppy.” She offered Anna a gentle smile, and Anna huffed quietly as she turned back to the lump of dough on the workbench. “Did you see it kick a puppy?”

“No,” Anna sighed. “I’m just worried. And angry, and sad, and confused, and-”

She trailed off, and Elsa placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Overwhelmed?” she offered, and Anna nodded. “Anna, listen to me, it’s going to be okay. Whether you are, or you aren’t, we’re here to support you, and you are going to be able to do the best thing for you. This not knowing isn’t helpful though.”

“I know.”

Elsa neatly flipped the grilled cheese in the pan, confirming that it was perfectly golden brown on each side. “Which is why Bulda went to the pharmacy and picked you up a test on her lunch break.”

“Yeah… Wait, what? Elsa, I don’t want-”

“Well, I’d better go serve this up!” Elsa interrupted her friend, picking up the plate and hastily exiting with her customer’s grilled cheese. “See you later, alligator!”

Resigned, Anna almost went back to kneading the dough, before remembering Elsa’s comment and deciding it had had enough. Lost in thought, she carefully stirred the blueberries on the stove, before tasting them and adding a couple of drops of vanilla extract. After giving the pot another quick stir, she tasted again. Perfect.

As she set off a couple of strips of bacon sizzling on a skillet, Anna’s thoughts continued to race. Her hand went to her stomach as she thought she could almost sense the stirrings of life there. No, that was ridiculous. She probably wasn’t pregnant anyway, and even she was, it was far too early to feel it. Shaking off the nonsensical thought, she flipped the bacon and fought to clear her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she whispered harshly to herself. “I can’t be.”

 ~

 The second Bulda had flipped the sign in the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’, she turned to Anna with an expression that said: ‘I will accept no arguments’.

“Anna,” she grinned reassuringly, “Time to pee on a stick.”

Anna’s protestations were weak and fell on deaf ears as Bulda frogmarched her to the café’s bathroom, closely followed by Elsa. Cliff had left an hour earlier, trusting the three waitresses to close the café.

Bulda dug in her handbag, pulling out a distinctively packaged box, which she thrust into Anna’s hands. “I told Gerda at the pharmacy that if she so much as breathed a word about my purchase today that I would personally see to it that that cat of hers would receive a lovely haircut. I was thinking dinosaur spines up its back. Thoughts?”

“I think you’re cruel,” Anna giggled in spite of herself.

“Eh, Gerda’s a gossip. Gotta keep her quiet one way or another. Now go. Pee.” Bulda’s firm hand shoved Anna into the bathroom, before slamming the door in her face. “Let me know when you’re done – we’ll set an egg timer.”

Anna carried out the test quickly, calling out to the other two to set the timer when she was done. Methodically, she washed her hands, before exiting the bathroom, sliding the test into her pocket so she wouldn’t have to watch it developing. Elsa and Bulda were sat at a table in the middle of the café, with the last remaining slice of Anna’s blueberry-bacon pie in between them. Anna spotted her baking timer, a cute egg design that had been a present from Elsa for her birthday a few years before, on the table as well. Wordlessly, Anna pulled out a chair as Elsa handed her a fork.

“Let’s not worry before we have to, eh?” Elsa smiled. “It was only one time, and it’s never happened for you two before – maybe Hans’ little swimmers don’t work! Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Wouldn’t that be something, indeed,” said Bulda. Anna remained silent. “Anyway, when you said that you were making a blueberry and bacon pie, I thought you were high. But I think it might just be my new favourite, Anna.” She punctuated her statement by popping another forkful of pie into her mouth.

“Thank you,” Anna replied softly. “Both of you, thank you for this.”

“Any time, sweetie.” Bulda reached to stroke Anna’s wrist affectionately.

Elsa grasped Anna’s other hand tightly, echoing the sentiment. “We’re here for you all the way.”

They waited for the remaining time to elapse in silence. When the timer went off, the shrill ring caused all three of them to jump, even though they’d been expecting it.

“One line means ‘no’, two means ‘yes’,” Elsa reminded. Bulda shushed her.

Anna’s hand shook slightly as she reached into her pocket, pulling out the pregnancy test with so much trepidation that it might as well have been a ticking bomb. She felt she could hear her heart pounding in her skull, and she realised she was holding her breath as she looked down at it. She blinked once, twice, making sure she was definitely reading it correctly. One for ‘no’, two for ‘yes’. She hadn’t made a mistake; two dainty pink lines were staring back at her.

Her voice came out as a whisper. “Shit.” Before the other two could even process the information, Anna had jumped to her feet, storming to the bin to fling the treacherous pregnancy test into it. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Bulda and Elsa watched her as she made her way back to them, throwing herself back into her chair and angrily stabbing her fork into the slice of pie.

“Anna-”

“Don’t. Please don’t. You know what? It’s fine. I’m fine. At least now we know.”

The bell above the door rang as it opened, and all three of them turned. Bulda quickly got to her feet. “We’re closed, honey- Oh.”

“Well, what a relief.” Anna swallowed a lump that rose in her throat as her husband walked over to them and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You were late. I was getting worried about you, princess, but here I see you ladies are just eating pie.”

Nervously, Anna glanced at the clock. “Hans, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time-”

“It’s fine, princess. I was just thinking you were lying in a ditch somewhere, or off with some other man, but nope! Here you are.” His hands slid off her, and he flashed the other two women a hard smile, which they returned with hesitation. “Come on, I’m hungry, let’s go.”

Anna got to her feet. “See you tomorrow, girls.”

They called out their goodbyes in return. Hans’ hand went to her upper arm, gripping it tightly as he guided her forcefully towards the door. He yanked the door open, and possessively snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him as they exited.

To an outsider, it would have appeared as though Anna’s husband was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, maybe pressing a kiss to her cheek. But a shiver ran through her body as he hissed furiously, “Don’t you ever pull another stunt like that, princess. If you ever keep me waiting more than ten minutes from now on, I will see to it that you never see the inside of that café – or your prissy friends – again.”

Next Chapter

[gravecinema]

Why The Evil Dead is the Best Indie Horror Movie Ever Made - 8/10/2020

There are a slew of classic horror movies that have been made in the history of cinema. Many of them are studio films with budgets ranging in the millions of dollars. However, great horror can also be made with smaller budget films. Saw was made with a small and modest budget and became a sensation at the box office for a decade. The Blair Witch Project is the most profitable theatrical independent horror film of all time, becoming a blockbuster while only being made for a few thousand dollars. However, when it comes to low budget independent horror, the all-time king has to be The Evil Dead, directed by Sam Raimi and starring Bruce Campbell, from 1981.  

The story of the making of The Evil Dead starts the same as many an independent horror movie does. A young group of film and theatre friends decide to that they want to make a movie together, so they go out and do it with whatever money and budget that they can scrounge together. Turns out, the easiest movies to make when you have very little budget are horror movies, so that’s the type of movie that the group of Sam Raimi, Rob Tapert, and Bruce Campbell set out to make. When they were finished, they just so happened to create one of the most beloved classic horror films of all time.

Originally titled Book of the Dead, the title was changed to The Evil Dead to make the movie more marketable, and the story was set in a secluded cabin in the woods that the crew found in Tennessee. The cabin used as the film's main set was also used as lodging for the crew members, with several people sleeping in the same room. Reportedly, the living conditions were terrible, and the crew frequently argued. The cabin didn't have plumbing, so the actors would go days without showering, and got sick frequently in the freezing weather which was colder than average for Tennessee, which was ironic as the crew set out to film outside of their home state of Michigan in order to avoid the regular cold Michigan winter. Turns out, Michigan was actually having a milder winter than Tennessee was having that year.  

Despite the conditions, the young independent crew was determined to get their movie made. Even after completing principal photography during the winter, when most of the actors left the production, there was still much of the film left to be completed. Most of the second half of the film features Bruce Campbell and various stand-ins (or "Fake Shemps" as they would come to be known) to replace the actors who left. They would mostly be done in monster makeup, so it was easier to hide the fact that the actors were different. The crew would go on to use the same technique again in the sequels.

One of the highlights of the film is the use of the “evil force” that travels through the woods, and we follow its POV as it does this. Since the crew was on a tight budget and couldn’t afford a dolly or a Steadicam, they were forced to innovate in the only way low budget filmmakers can: They just used two planks of wood to stick the camera on, and then had two cameramen carry it through the woods in order to pull off the effect. Later, when they needed to show the effect of decaying flesh, without having access to modern CGI or advanced practical effects makers, they turned to using the long and painstaking process of stop-motion in order to achieve their desired effect. The whole film is filled with examples of how any low budget and independent filmmaker would make a good and great movie without having any of the resources that a major studio would have.

The real cabin in the woods doesn’t have the basement as seen in the film, so the crew members dug a giant hole beneath the floor of the cabin in order to get the shots that they needed of the cast going down into the basement, and the one of the possessed friend trying to break their way through. The cast couldn’t even see through the white contacts in their eyes when they were possessed, so they would be literally acting blind in front of their castmates. Even most of the props were actually real. The chainsaw that Ash uses when trying to convince himself to chop up his possessed girlfriend is a real chainsaw, and Bruce Campbell had to be very careful when using it.

The single barrel shotgun that was also used by the hero Ash in the film was purchased by Bruce Campbell at a Kmart just to be used in the film. Since the budget was extremely low, and they were filming in secluded woods, live ammunition was used for a couple of scenes. Most of these scenes are filmed at low angles so the camera would not be hit. For other scenes, Bruce Campbell simply mimes firing the shotgun. At the end of production, Bruce Campbell and Producer Robert Tapert bought about a hundred shells and shot up every prop used in the cabin. The resulting rubble was then lit into a huge barn fire by Director Sam Raimi. To this day, only the bricks from the fireplace are what remain of the cabin they used to film the movie in.

The circumstances of the film also make it distinct from other horror films at the time. Most horror movies end with a final girl defeating the big bad evil monster. Since this movie only really had access to star Bruce Campbell throughout the whole production, he winds up being our main protagonist and final surviving character by the end of the movie. The filmmakers also decided to make him the star since he was the best looking amongst the group of friends. The character of Ash has since gone on to become one of the great heroes of horror. A genre which is mostly known for its iconic villains instead of its heroes.

While they were filming, the filmmakers would even receive advice on how to make the film better when they told friends and investors that they were making a horror film. A friend of Bruce Campbell and Sam Raimi, gave them this advice: "Fellas, no matter what you do, keep the blood running down the screen." Taking this advice to heart, they included a scene in the finished film where blood runs down the projector screen. After making the best horror film that they could, the film was even shown to Stephen King, and it was his glowing endorsement of the film (which was later used on the film's ads and posters) which really sold it to the public. The film was bought and distributed by New Line Cinema soon after.

After its release, The Evil Dead would go on to have a major impact withing the horror community, and it would become one of the iconic films of the horror genre. It was even one of the first films to be labeled as a "Video Nasty" in the UK, and was banned there because of this. For a horror film, being banned is one of the most glowing reviews that it can receive. This first film by a young crew of independent filmmakers would go on to spawn 2 movie sequels, 1 television sequel series, a theatrical remake, a stage musical, and various video games, comic books, and tons of horror merchandise. Pretty damn successful for a film with just a small budget, and a mountain of determination from the filmmakers to get it made.

The main legacy of The Evil Dead is that is stands as a shining example of what an independent filmmaker can do. Even when the circumstances are less than ideal, when you have little money, can’t keep your actors, and the environment you’re filming in is horrible, you can still pull it all together and end up making one of the best films of the horror genre. It stands as a beacon and a rallying cry to other independent filmmakers that they can do it too. They themselves can go on to create the movie that they have always wanted to make, and personally, I can’t wait to see it.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

YES! POST THINGS! IM BORED!!!

Okie Dokie here you go!

The real reason I wanted an ask was because the original person who asked for this prompt isn’t in my inbox anymore...? Someone requested a one-shot about Revali failing at his gale, but I can’t find it in the inbox because I’m dumb/technology issues? (I think their name was trash mammal or something, idk). Anyway, here’s that, although I kinda, accidentally turned it into a character analysis of Revali...But an anon said that I apologize too much with requests. Therefore, I’m NOT sorry about that, I’m NOT sorry for the wait, and I’m NOT sorry that this is 3487 words long. Enjoy!

Edit: Sorry if the format looks weird on mobile, idk why!

The Pride of the Rito

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Revali x Reader

The night was bitter in more ways than one. The snow that tumbled down on the Flight Range was thick, leaving clumps of ice on the roof. The air was hazy, a silver atmosphere that commanded the winds to howl towards the sky. The rugged mountains that surrounded the area isolated him and the trench. The only thing that could be seen past the lingering snowstorm was the faint blue glow of Medoh in the sky, for even the stars were captured under the white, with not a twinkle in sight. Outside, the flurries rested on the tips of his feathers and beak, a delicate moment in the midst of his relentless training.

Again. Let’s do it again. I need to be more precise.  

Revali knelt on the edge, teetering between the solid ground and the emptiness below him.  

He brushed the tips of his wing against the rocks, the winds rushing between his feathers. His body relaxed for a moment, closing his eyes and feeling the air. Then, he tensed, stiffening his wings on either side, in a motion as if to summon something from the earth. Well, he was summoning something. The air, the wind, the movement, the authority to conjure a draft below him. The winds were now picking up, swirling violently and circling under him, he could feel his jade anklets clinking around from the rampant air.  

Keep going. Keep. Going. It needs to be stronger, faster. 

The falling snow was now alive, dancing around as they were swept into the hurricane-like entity that was now surrounding Revali. His braids were flapping in the air, his cream colored scarf billowing. The winds were now cutting, bitter cold nipping despite his feathered features. 

Now, up. Release with control, direct it upwards. Not all at once. Keep the energy. Follow through the whole way. Command the ascent. Steer the flow. This is it!

A shaky breath escaped him. A strange charge now filled the air. The winds, once turbulent, now suddenly stilled, seeming to wait for their cue. He could feel it still swirling, inside of him, ready to burst at any moment. Then, his wings, still strained on either side of him, gave a mighty flap. The air now roared back to life, swelling beneath him. 

A tornado, a great pillar of air, now released into the sky. 

And he flew

…straight into a rocky cliff. 

“ARGH–”

The wind, quite literally, was knocked out of Revali, as he connected with the rocky ridge. He dropped, and then fell on the ground with a thud. He laid there, aching for a moment, before letting out a deep sigh.

Revali started to move, slightly, just enough to get his head out of the dirt. Then he knelt on the ground, for what seemed like an eternity, contemplating. Finally, he got up. The Rito armor, now dusted with grey snow and rocky debris, had protected most of him, however, it couldn’t protect the blow to his confidence. He cursed under his breath.

It seemed that instead of streaming Revali towards the sky, the gale had pushed him back, sideways towards the surrounding cliffs. With another flap of his wings, he moved back towards the wooden hut, shaking his head.

He landed on the armrest of the balcony, making his way to a little oaken desk. Snatching his journal (astutely named The Diary of Revali, the Rito Legend) he started scribbling down notes. Of course, being so focused on recording his latest happenings, he failed to notice the Hylian sitting amongst the pillows and blankets behind him. Putting the rest of his thoughts onto paper, Revali turned around and was greeted by your smiling face.

“Gah! [Name]? What– when did…how long have you been here?” 

You gave a quiet chuckle.

“Just half an hour or so. A blizzard was coming in and I knew you would be out practicing again. Being stuck here, alone all night, isn’t really ideal. So…”

You moved the blanket off of you, spreading your arms wide as if to present yourself or pose. A cheeky grin on your face.

“Ta-da! Now you have company!”

Moving the leather strap around your shoulder, you tugged a satchel onto your lap. Digging through, you pulled out two sealed containers.

“Plus, I brought some spicy meat stew.” 

Revali shook his head, moving closer to the blankets, but not daring to sit down.

“That’s alright, I’m not hungry.”

Acknowledging, and subsequently ignoring his comment, you shoved the soup container towards his chest, forcing him to hold it. 

“What? You get full from eating the snow and pebbles from your fall just now?”

His eyes then narrowed, “I’m trying to train.”

“By starving and injuring yourself?”

“By perfecting my technique– Listen, [name], if you came here to distract me from my goal, I’m sorry to inform you that your efforts will be for naught.”

Revali turned around, placing the spicy meat stew on the desk. He started making his way towards the landing outside.

You have out a huff. Getting up to follow him, you tossed both of the containers back into your bag and started walking.

 “Instead of focusing on long forgotten spiritual magic, why don’t you just focus on being the best you, you can be?”

“Farore above, did you really just say that? Incredibly cliche, I expected more of you–”

“I was joking.”

“Hmm, we need to work on your sense of humour.”

Outside, the air stung on your cheeks. The snowstorm still clouded the sky, masking both the heavens and the earth in white. Shivering, you asked,

“Rito can already fly, can’t they?  This seems a bit redundant, you already have wings. What’s even the point of creating an updraft?”

Revali slowed his pace to give out a hearty laugh. In fact, he stopped outright, on the edge of the landing, the echoes of his laughter filling the air. At this point it wasn’t entirely clear if he was being sarcastic or not. You crossed your arms, he stopped when he met your stiff gaze.

“Oh, so you were being serious then…”

A familiar smug expression crossed onto Revali’s face. He hopped back onto the railing, perhaps so he could physically look down on you. He tucked his wings behind his back, leaning forward ever so slightly. A professor about to give a lecture. This should be good.

“Well, as understandable as it is that a Hylian couldn’t comprehend the benefits of such an ability, allow me to enlighten you. Rito style archery is the most superior in all of Hyrule for a multitude of reasons. The light crafting of the bow, the quick and efficient draw, our graceful movements and technique, 

“But most importantly…”

He took one foot of the edge, half hovering over the windy pit.

“…the ability of flight!”

Both feet were now off the railing. Revali dove head first into the abyss. While you knew he was probably going to be fine, instinct kicked in as you hurried to the edge to check on him. 

Snow still fell through the air, flurries were once again sticking to his feathers. But all he felt was adrenaline, along with the rush of air as he plummeted towards the bottom. Before hitting the watery depths, he unfurled his wings, catching the natural updrafts of the Flight Range. Now soaring towards the sky, Revali gave a few more mighty flaps to get even more height. 

Still on the landing, you watched as a blur of navy blue rose above the cliffs. Contrasting with the grey and silver landscape, the blur shot through the air. Then it hovered, just below the clouds, still as a leaf.

Above the Flight Range, Revali shifted the bow off his back, allowing it to drop. Repositioning his weight, he dove down to catch it with a practiced grip. Falling through the air, he flipped upside down, just for show. Taking arrows from his quiver, he knocked them into place. Three arrows, all at once, were released. 

Thud! 

Thud! 

Thud!

All made perfect contact with the bullseye, the blue luminescent paint on the targets showing evidence of Revali’s accuracy and precision. Revali fastened another round of arrows, drawing them back before letting them through the air.

Thud! 

Thud! 

Thud! 

Perfect, as should be expected of me.

Now, he was about halfway down in his descent. 

I think [Name] might be impressed if I warm up the place…

Taking the arrows near the bottom of the quiver, he took out three heavier bomb arrows. Round, scarlet heads held a good amount of gunpowder. Sparking them with a piece of flint on the arrow rest, the fuses were lit, and he let them loose. 

BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!

The once frigid air now subsided in the wake of three explosions. The colors of a sunrise clashed in the air, bits of the once turquoise targets nearly flung into your face. You ducked, the warmth of fire now filling the Flight Range. 

Revali spread his wings, catching the natural drafts once more, then settled back on the railing. 

“As you could see from my demonstration, taking to the sky allows for Rito to shoot our enemies without becoming a stationary target ourselves. However, you can only shoot for as long as you’re falling, and taking to the skies takes time.

“You can’t just flap your wings and get into the air immediately. That only works with natural updrafts, again, as I just demonstrated. An average Rito would have to start at an already elevated position, such as the landings in Rito Village, in order to gain enough momentum and height. Or, alternatively, use a long stretch of land as a runway, gaining height at an gradual angle.

He turned to face you, smirk still on his face.

“Both options take too long. You asked the significance of my ability? It’s the fastest way in all of Hyrule to take to the air. Instantaneous height, the ability to attack whenever, wherever. Thought impossible by everyone, but something that I have solely mastered.”

Or, will master, anyhow…

He strode towards you, bow returned to his back, wings, once again, folded behind him. He gave a deep bow.

You gave a polite clap, humoring his grand show.  

“Fantastic performance, Revali. Encore?”

“Tsk. If you came by more often I might consider it.”

Now it was your turn to put on a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. When I finish begging the elders to reward you with a statue, maybe I will.”

“I don’t want, nor need something like that.”

“Oh? But I have to reward you somehow…how about…”

You took out the stews from your satchel. Presenting it like a trophy, you held one out. Then, you tilted your head towards the hut with the pillows and blankets, as if to say, over there! You urged Revali again.

“You didn’t eat lunch, or breakfast!”

“Didn’t I just explain, a literal five seconds ago, how important it is that I practice my–”

“Aaaaaaand you can’t do that on an empty stomach, can you?”

You tried to catch his eye, maybe if he just looked at your eyes, you could get him to change his mind.

“You don’t need to put on an act around me.”

A jade eye shot up, meeting your gaze.

“I’m not–”

Revali looked at you, a new charge filled the air. 

“…fine. Just for a minute.”

. . . . .  

“Did you even attempt to heat this?”

“It’s almost midnight, and I made it at nine. You’re the one who decided to coop up here all day.”

Despite the temperature, the stew was delicious. For the last hour or so, he and you had been devouring in the flavorful dish. Apparently, it was an official recipe from Rito Stable. The meat, tender and soft, complemented well with a savory broth that you slurped every drop of. The spiciness tingled through your bodies, warming the both of you up. Outside, the blizzard was still present, but now less violent. A thin slice of the moon could be seen beyond the edges of the mountains. 

It was you who made most of the small talk with Revali, an incredibly rare occurrence since it was usually the Rito Champion who spoke for extended periods of time. He kept looking outside, near the cliff he had crashed into earlier. 

Damn, he’s really still stuck up on that, huh? You thought. 

Trying to change the subject to something that would get his attention, you piped up.

“So, the move you’re working on, what’cha gonna call it?”

Revali turned his head back at you. He fiddled with the spoon in his half eaten stew, thinking.

“Something with ‘Revali’ in it, so my name’s out there. Revali’s Flap, Revali’s Hurricane…Revali’s…something. I’ll work out something.”

You let out a soft laugh. “As expected from you.” Shoving another piece of meat into your mouth, you added, “Maybe, *munch* maybe do something like Revali’s Turbulence. Oh! How about Revali’s Boldness! Wait, *munch* no, that’s stupid. But maybe a name more along the lines of Urbosa’s Fury, or Mipha’s Grace, ya know?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I need to copy from the likes of Champion Urbosa or Mipha.”

“What? They both got cool powers. You know the saying is ‘good artists borrow, and great artist stea–”

“As I said, I don’t need to copy, steal, or piggyback on my fellow Champion’s esteemed reputation. Further associating myself with them will not be necessary”

You set your bowl down, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Nayru save me, don’t tell me you hate them too?”

“What?”

“I mean, I guess I know from experience that you insult people that you like.”

“I…what?”

“Although, not just personal experience. From what I could gather, you seem to actually hate Master Link, but everyone else you just insult because that’s how you make friends. Wait, or are you actually trying to be friends with Link and you just suck at this kind of thing overall…”

Revali interjected in your rant, turning all his attention to you.

“I don’t hate them.”

“Master Link?”

“No, Urbosa and Mipha. Well, perhaps that knight too I suppose. I–I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then why have you been so bitter lately?”

This caught him off guard. You set your bowl down, holding his gaze. This whole week, Revali had isolated himself in the Flight Range, being sharp-tongued to visitors, much more than usual.  He wasn’t eating, Hylia knows if he sleeps. You decided to stop beating around the bush and got to the core of the issue.

“Revali, I’ve known you for a long time and I know by now when something’s up. You’re angry about something, or scared, you tell me.”

“It’s. Nothing.”

“Is it your new ability?”

 “No.”

“You only got the title of Champion two weeks ago. If you’re feeling pressured, that’s natural”

Revali let his bowl clatter on the ground. Getting up, he made his way outside.

“I’ll eat the rest later, I have to start practicing now.”

You raised your voice slightly, starting to get irritated. “Why is that so important, that you’re sacrificing your health and well being for it?!”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Are you trying to prove yourself? To me? To the Princess? The King? The Champions?”

Revali turned back towards you, but was still walking backwards. The sky was now serene, and full of stars, despite his not so peaceful expression

“I’ve already been deemed on an equal level with all of the other Champions. You know, the team made up of royals and accomplished warriors? I’m here because I’ve shown that my skills are superior to everyone else. Either way, I don’t need to prove anything to people that are of the same rank as me!”

“Hylia, you’re always so blunt with everything else, why not be straightforward now?”

“I am. I’m training because I’m an accomplished Champion who needs to train, not because I’m some mediocre warrior–”

“So you’re afraid of mediocrity?”

“OF COURSE NOT!”

Both of you stood there, stunned. While the tension was building between you two, Revali’s sudden outburst was sudden. You both stood there, wind playing with your hair, and dancing through his scarf.

“…of course not.” His final lie, whispered into the air.

For a moment, there was no sound but the whistles of the wind. You took a step forward, arm outstretched.

“Revali…”

He shook his head, shaking his wings, exasperated.

“OK, Fine! You want the truth, about the updraft? It’s not about the practical use, or the grand show, or defying odds. It’s about me, ok?  Right now I’m nothing, just a random cuckoo walking amongst royalty and legendary warriors.

“Daruk, the Goron Elder with an impenetrable force field. Mipha, the Zora princess, whose healing prowess is said to counter even the most devastating of wounds. Lady Urbosa, Chief of the Gerudo who can summon lightning at a literal snap of her fingers. How did I get in here? I’m put beside warriors who are obviously better than me, and what am I supposed to think? Without anything distinguishing about myself, I’m going to fade into history, behind the actually competent people. I thought I worked my ass off to get where I am today, but then I’m put behind some random knight with a shiny sword. So am I worth something or not? Everything’s contradictory, nothing makes sense.  Did I just get lucky? Am I getting screwed over? 

“The only way I can wrap my head around this whole situation is to confront the fact that I’m just an ordinary Rito who is only here by chance. The work I’ve put in my whole life isn’t enough, I need to go beyond. And beyond means actually mastering this cursed gale!”

An ugly pause. You could cut the heat and tension with a knife. Revali, realizing how much he had just poured out of his soul, gave a half-hearted chuckle.

“Heh, you put wine in that stew?”

His attempt to lighten the mood didn’t fully work. Nonetheless, you stared at him for another eternity. Then you went in for a hug.

“You’re the dumbest Rito alive if you really believe any of that. You are not mediocre. You’re incredible. Incredibly annoying, incredibly persistent at talking my ears off, but incredibly skilled and smart too. Hell, that’s why I’ve loved you for so long.”

Ignoring whatever reaction just escaped from his beak, you continued. 

“I would like to reiterate my point that you’re a moron. You can’t isolate yourself here and expect to get better. You can’t go through all this as a solitary warrior. If mastering this ability means so much to you, then go for it. I don’t doubt you for a second. But just know…just know that you’re a complete idiot if you think that you’re not worthy. You’re a fool if you think for even a second that you’re average or inferior, because…

You gulped.

 …because you’re everything to me.”

OK, I’ll admit that was super cliche. But catharsis is catharsis I guess.

The moment settled, and silence returned once more.

“Hylia, maybe I did put some wine in there.”

Revali gave out a soft laugh. Then, more quiet. Finally, Revali whispered.

“Did you really mean all that?”

“…yeah.”

A pause, a strange charge filled the air.

“Thank you, [Name]. That, uh, means a lot, coming from you. Truly.” 

The air was still once more. However, Revali’s thoughts still swirled like wind.

Say something idiot, they just confessed! 

Haha, yes, of course you like me, considering I’m the best around. 

Holy– They just called you out on your crap! Don’t say something like that

I love you too…

Wow, cheesy and not really part of the mood. Haven’t I presented myself as more sophisticated than that?

Spirits above, what do I do now???

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been making you worry all week.”

“It’s fine, I–”

“No, it’s not fine. We just established how that was not fine.”

Revali looked back at you, clearing his throat.

“Hey, so about all that about love, and stuff–”

“Oh my goddess, yeah, no, if you want to just stay friends I can–”

“Oh no, well. Just to be clear, you were talking about me, correct? You weren’t mispronouncing someone else’s name, or referring to someone else named “Revali?”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“No…I–I was referring to you. The person I was talking to.”

“Ah. Good. Glad that’s clarified. That’s great.”

“…so do you–”

“OH-oh-oh, right, uh yes.”

Revali took a step back, pointing at you with both index fingers. His beak was open, but no sound escaped for a moment. 

Say it! They said it a few minutes ago!

I love you too!

“I have also, liked you, a lot, for a long period of time. You’re, pretty great. Yep. Yeah. This is mutual, yes…” 

Gods, I’m really am an idiot

[flying-nightwing]

Dark Fox (4/7)

Hiiiiiiiii people! So there’s a LOT of action in this one, and also comedy relief featuring the batfam. Major foreshadowing as well, so enjoy! 

No proofreading we die like bastards.

Previous - Next 

Pairing: Jason x League!Reader

Word Count: 6819

Warnings: same as the others

Jason’s progress became even more obvious as spring rolled by. You had access once again to that clearing in the middle of the blooming nature, and the days were once again becoming longer. He would still complain about training--you didn’t think you could ever stop him from doing so--but he wouldn’t lash out like he used to. 

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?”

You smirked at his exasperation after you rolled away from his swing. Once again, you were playing it passive.

“When you’ll stop falling for it”

There was a focused calculation in his eyes, like he was trying to find out a solution to beat you. He was analysing your movements; you had noticed him doing that a lot more lately. You blocked his sword, but this time, instead of attacking again, he twisted yours and sent it flying away. He threw his beside it and engaged in hand to hand combat, forcing you out of your passive strategy.

Finally.

His hits came flying fast, but they were controlled. He moved fluidly around you, imposing his rhythm. You had to be much more proactive to avoid receiving devastating hits, as it dragged you out of your zone of comfort. You had to try and change the rhythm, risk exposing yourself to try moves to slow him down. 

His expression soon turned playful. He was enjoying this version of the fight way more, as he was clearly in his element. His strength was kept in check and so was his anger. It was a far cry than the first time he had disarmed you, for this time he wasn't trying to kill you, or strangle you. 

He got you on a high kick, as he thought fast enough to grab your ankle and yank you. You tried to pull yourself up and wrap your legs in a chokehold, but his roll forward sent you on the ground. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you took it. 

"I'll be damned" You said, dusting yourself up. "You've finally stopped falling for it"

"Huh?" He frowned, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. The sun was particularly hot that day, even if it was still early in the year. Jason was in an old ripped t-shirt, and you had ditched most of your league gear beside the pants and boots. You simply had your long sleeve base layer, which still elicited comments from Jason on how weird it was seeing you "peeled off".

"You took control of the fight without lashing out" You explained. All that time you had been teaching him restraint and how to focus his emotions rather than let them dictate his actions, and he had proved he could put it all in practice. "I've been trying to get you to that point for months"

"So no punishment for not beating you with a sword?" He raised his eyebrows, skeptical. 

"Don't be ridiculous" You scoffed. "You couldn't beat me with a sword"

"Wow"

"It was about time you finally figured that out" You teased. "Recognize your enemy's strength, and don't let them use it to dictate the fight. You decide how it goes, not the opposite"

"So next time I can disarm you in any fight?" He joked.

"Next time I'll be the only one to have a sword" You replied, carefully watching the shift in his expression, from smug to concerned. "Now we can begin real training"

"Real training?"

--------

The gym in the cave had a strong echo.

The glass cage around the sparring surface made it even worse, trapping the sounds to bounce around. Every hit of the wooden escrima sticks, every grunt of effort or every roll on the floor reverberated back to you. But you would mostly tune it out, your focus solely on Jason in front of you. 

Your duel was conducted at high intensity. Neither of you spared the other in your hits, and all sneaky moves were allowed. It was fast paced and violent, but that's how you rolled. You were used to it with him, you knew his limits and he knew yours. And you were nowhere close to them.

However, to any outsider, it would look like you were in a real fight. If you had your side open, he would hit your ribs. You would either target the back of his knees or try and elbow his stomach if you got him to raise his arms a bit.

When he missed a pace, you hit his wrist, making him drop his stick. You blocked the one remaining in his left hand with your left and rested the other on his cheek, before taking a step back and spinning them both. 

"Did she just fucking beat Todd?"

You turned around to face the small public your fight had attracted. Dick and Tim were there, looking baffled. You threw Jason his towel and grabbed yours, wiping down the sweat on your face and escrima sticks. 

"Of course she did"

A new voice warranted your attention. Down the stairs came a face that was familiar, but that you hadn't seen in a long time. Bruce Wayne followed suit.

"Mother wouldn't have chosen anyone as her right hand"

Two pairs of wide eyes glanced back at you. 

"You're--"

"You know--"

"Yeah you dipshits" Jason mused as he strutted out of the cage with you in tow. "I got my League training from Talia's number one champion"

"You're quite skilled, I see" Bruce jumped in the conversation. You glanced at him. "Would you agree to a duel? In between League trainees?"

"I never refuse a duel" You said, putting down your towel and escrima sticks. 

"Oh yes" Jason's eyes sparkled up as he walked toward you. You exchanged a smirk. "I've got to see this"

"If you're doing a League match up, I want in" Damian stepped up as well.

"FUCK YES" Jason now looked extasic while Dick and Tim looked concerned, yet curious. 

You rolled your eyes and waited for Bruce and Damian to choose their weapon before stepping up to the rack. You grabbed two identical swords for dual wield, tested them in your hands and faced the men again. You could almost hear their minds thinking of your choice of weapon as bold, but you didn't care. 

“Shall we?” You gestured to the glass cage. You watched as Damian enthusiastically went first, sending you a smirk. Last time you had sparred with him, he had been a child. Now he was a bit older, and you suspected his technique only had gotten better. You had no idea what to expect of Bruce, however, who paused in front of you before following suit. 

You went in last and watched them warm up their movements with their own sword. You noticed also Jason, Dick and Tim got closer to the glass, all a different expression on their face.

“I can’t wait to see Bruce’s ass kicked” Jason said, his arms crossing over his chest.

“What?” Dick scoffed. “No way she can hold him, let alone the two of them”

“They were both trained by Ra’s” Tim added. “I’m with Dick on this one. It’s not because she kicked your ass that she can kick theirs as well”

“Just watch and learn” Jason wasn’t fazed by their comments. "They can't beat her with a sword"

Bruce and Damian finished their warm ups and positioned themselves in front of you.

“I hope you won’t hold back” The older Wayne said as he spun his sword in his hand. “Because we won’t”

You smirked and lowered yourself in a fighting position, holding up your swords. “I wasn’t planning to” 

They both launched their first attack in sync, and you blocked both of their sword with yours crossed over your head. You paused there for half a second and made eye contact with both of them, before you pushed their sword back and attacked at your turn. The clang of the metal was fast, but barely enough to follow the speed of your moves. You relied mostly on your instincts and on where you predicted each blade would be aimed next. 

You bent to avoid Damian’s sword and used his open side from his swing to deliver a kick, sending him stumbling back. You had to immediately roll away from Bruce’s sword, which came your way at full force. You spun around and blocked his hit again, holding the blade and twisting it to make him lose balance. It almost worked, but he dropped it before crouching and catching the hilt lower. He threw himself back on his forearms to avoid your elbow, and propelled himself back upright. You chained two round kicks, which he blocked with the flat side of his sword. Then, Damian came back in the fight, but you had seen him coming from behind. You vaulted out of the way and his sword collided with Bruce’s instead.

Meanwhile, the boys were still watching on the side, their attention unwavering. Jason was still grinning, while the other two were trying to process the fact that you could easily keep up with them.

“Am I finally overdosing on caffeine,” Tim spoke up, glancing down at his coffee. “Or is it actually supposed to be that fast?”

“It’s… Not supposed to be that fast” Dick blinked a few times. 

“Told ya” Jason teased, sending a quick glance to his brothers, then returning it to the fight. 

Bruce and Damian where now coordinating against you, timing their attack to force you on the defensive. You had to have always one sword up above you to block attacks, and the other swinging to protect your side and middle. You knew you wouldn’t last long like this, so you pulled out your wild card. You dropped down, crouched with one leg extended on your side for balance, brought your sword in a X shape in front of you and opened them again in a 180 degree sweep motion. 

It was like time slowed. Both of their eyes widened as they realized your move, Damian reacting a bit faster as he had seen it before. He vaulted back out of the range of your sword before it could reach him, while Bruce had to jump last second so his kneecaps wouldn’t be reaped. You took the moment of their stupor to pull yourself to your feet again and point your swords at both their throat.

Your chest was heaving as the fight came to an end, sweat glistening on your face and back. You held eye contact with Bruce for a moment, before retracting your swords to your side. You glanced at the boys outside, then back at your opponent. You nodded at them and stepped out of the glass cage and put back the swords in the rack.

Nobody was speaking.

You could feel their stares on you, like they were expecting you to turn around and attack them all. Well, that wasn’t unusual; you had been there for tree days and that’s how they always looked at you. Jason handed you your towel wordlessly, but his face communicated enough. He had this grin that only meant he took way too much satisfaction in seeing his adopted father at the tip of your sword. Considering his feelings toward him, his reaction was no surprise. 

“Your branding” Bruce finally broke the silence from behind you. You frowned, until you realized you were wearing a tank top and the healed burn mark on your shoulder was visible. “It’s a fox?”

“Yes” You nodded, turning around to face him. 

“Why?”

“I’ve always been smaller than the other assassins, and faster” You paused to drink water. “I had to be more cunning than them to beat them. So they started calling me Thaelib fi alzalam”

“Fox in the dark” Damian translated. “I never had heard the story behind the name”

“There’s not much to say about it” Your eyes slid to him. “But I guess it sticked enough to become my name” 

“What’s your real name, then?”

You only raised an eyebrow in Tim’s direction, choosing not to answer him. He wasn’t privy to that information, none of them were beside Jason who already knew. Besides, that name had been erased from any record that may have contained it. You only existed in the world as Thaelib fi alzalam. 

“How long have you been in the League?” Bruce asked again, ignoring his son’s question. You were growing restless, with all these questions. You had already said too much, but you also knew not giving an excuse for beating him would only raise more questions.

“Roughly 18 years” 

“Jeez” Dick breathed. “That explains a lot”

“Funny enough, I thought the exact same thing when I found out” Jason snorted, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse us, spending the morning playing 21 questions with you all is not as fun as you think” 

He pushed past Bruce and Dick, and you didn’t need to be told twice. You followed him out of the cave and up the stairs, mumbling a ‘thank you’ along the way. You went back to your room to take a shower and change in your regular black attire, then found Jason waiting for you outside your room, freshly showered as well. 

“You know they’ll watch you even more after that stunt?” He spoke up, and you rolled your eyes. Of course you knew. “Bruce wasn’t happy with that kick in Dami’s ribs”

“He said not to hold back” You hummed, sliding your glance up to his face. “Besides, I’ve been sparring with Damian way before Bruce knew he existed. I knew he could take it”

“That’s true, but I doubt he’ll see it that way” His lips subtly curled up. “Why did you do it?”

“To show them I could” You shrugged. “If they’re to remain wary of me, I’d rather them respect my skills as well”

You glanced at the camera, knowing it had picked up the entire conversation. The three days you had been there, you felt you had been sidelined. Not only they didn’t trust you, but you believed they doubted the extent of your abilities. You wouldn’t let yourself be a background character in your own quest, even if it pissed off Batman himself. 

--------

You watched with a small smile as Jason carefully took the pot off of the fire and clumsily held it at the bottom, trying to keep it in place with the cloth under it. He hissed as it momentarily touched his skin, but he immediately adjusted his grip. He slowly poured the tea in both cups, the quantity in each slightly unequal, and put back the pot on the hook by its handle. He handed you a cup, and you took it with a thank you nod. 

He watched you carefully as you softly blew on the steaming beverage a couple of time, then tasted it. He was waiting for your impression, but you remained silent while you evaluated the taste. You knew he would go impatient in a few seconds, and he proved you right by shifting in his seat. You looked up at him, his eyes intensely watching your reaction. 

“A bit too much lemon grass” You commented. “But overall, well done”

He held back a smile, but his eyes lit up at your evaluation. You had let him make the tea that night from what he had observed you do, you knew he had been watching your routine closely for the last few months. And now that he had proven to you he had reached a stable state of mind, you wanted to teach him peripheral skills as well.

You drank the first cup in silence after that. You thought about the first night in the hut, when he had poured his tea on the ground while maintaining eye contact and it almost made you chuckle. There he was now, proud of his first batch of tea, even if he would never admit his pride out loud. 

As he poured the second cups, still unequal but a bit better this time, he spoke up.

“What did you mean by real training?” He brought back the morning’s inquiry, as you hadn’t really answered him then. “I doubt you meant making tea”

“Only partially” The corner of your lips lifted once again, and he rolled his eyes. “I meant that from now on, we work on your technique and your execution, and on building up strength and endurance on muscles you don’t even know exist yet”

“So we jack up my eardrums and make me move like a dancer?” 

You bit the inside of your lips, a silent laughter making your shoulders shake lightly. You shook your head at the joke, catching the grin on his face in your peripheral vision.  “If you want to see it like this”

He didn’t say more, but soon enough his expression sobered up.

“So you had to go through all of this as well, didn’t you?”

Your gaze dropped. “And some more”

He waited for you to elaborate.

“You came to Talia already highly skilled” You pointed out. “With major attitude problems, but highly skilled nevertheless” 

He rolled his eyes again.

“I came to the League with nothing” You resumed. “I had to learn everything from scratch, and believe me when I say all the ass kicking you recieved, I got first. I learned from my scars just like you did”

“I understand” He nodded. “I grew up in the streets of Gotham. It didn’t forgive mistakes a lot either, so any could be your last if you didn’t learn fast enough to steer around them”

“Did you learn it all there? On the streets?”

He sighed. “That’s a complicated story” He glanced down for a second at his cup, fidgeting with the handle. “Hold tight”

--------

It seemed your strategy had worked. For the first time, you had been invited at the round table to discuss strategy. Everybody was geared up for the upcoming patrol and recon operation. You had to locate the weapon, as it had been moved after yours and Jason’s not so subtle interruption. You also had to interrogate Stamm if he was still around, or any high LexCorp operative, and copy the entire storage disk from the labs to try and find some blueprints or informations about the project. 

“I doubt the weapon will be any close to the new lab, or to LexCorp headquarter” Bruce said. “So we need to determine the most probable location and tag it while we distract at the two other places”

You watched the plan of the city intensely. The weapon wasn’t that big, so it could easily be dissimulated among typical lab equipment, but it couldn’t be subtly carried on one’s person. Luthor wouldn’t store the weapon at the docks or anywhere near it, the risk was to high for Falcone, or worse, Sionis, to just take it for themselves. He wouldn’t either store it on Joker’s territory, or around city hall. Too open for random attacks, and according to Bruce, Luthor wasn’t just ready yet to use the weapon. So it left roughly everything inside Upper East Side and Old Gotham. Luthor was based in the Diamond District, and both the previous and currently used LexCorps lab were based around Gotham University, just above the Upper West Side on the other side of the Finger River. You traced your finger from one location to the other, then completed the triangle to…

“Upper East Side”

The chatter you had tuned out died down as they took in what you said. They all looked at you like they had no idea what you were talking about. Jason walked closer to you, observing the map and frowning at your finger tapping the location.

“He’ll keep it within Gotham Upper East Side”

“Batman’s territory?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “That would be a bold move, especially since he knows we’re after him”

“The district with the most vigilante arrest…” Jason mumbled like he was trying to reach your reasoning. “... And the most security”

“Exactly” You nodded. “It would be the smartest move if he is not to keep it close to home. His target is not yet known, or even acquired. He stays in the middle, away from the gangs, safely protected and ready to strike. This is his move”

“How can you be sure?” Bruce narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his armored chest. He was almost intimidating in his Batman costume. Almost.

You clenched your jaw and exchanged a glance with Jason, one that obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the bunch of colorful vigilantes in front of you. It was sharp and meaningful, but he understood what it meant. “Logic”

“Logic” Tim repeated incredulously, eyebrows raised like you had said something wild, like magic or assassin instinct.

“That’s what I would do if I were him” You snapped your attention to him.

“Me too” Jason backed you up. “So unless you feel like racking up Gotham from one end to another, I’d say we go with this plan”

Bruce sighed, then nodded. He still had his doubt toward you, and there was definitely a suspicion of something else going on with you brewing in his mind. There was a specific reason you were there and he did not know it yet, but he could trust Jason’s judgement. Besides, something told him you knew more about this than you let on and he was determined to find out.

“Alright. You and Jason track the weapon, Dick and Tim distract Luthor’s headquarters. Damian and I--”

“No” You interrupted, and eyes widened around you. You knew only Jason hadn’t even if you couldn’t see it, as he was probably expecting your disagreement to your assignment. “I go to the headquarters”

Now you felt Jason stare on you. He did not see the direct approach coming, but he should have. Still, he was surprised with your decision to go for it tonight.

“Excuse me?” Bruce blinked slowly, unimpressed. “This isn’t--”

“Up for debate?” You finished for him as Jason sighed and massaged his temple. He should have known your presence here would grind up sparks, and that you would end up pissing everyone else. He had forgotten how stubborn and confrontational you were when you decided to open your god damn mouth. “It’s not indeed”

Jason did his best to mimic an apology, while Damian sported an amused smirk. Bruce and Dick looked slightly insulted, and Tim had an unreadable expression on his face, so blank it reminded you of other assassins in the League. 

Bruce glanced from you, to Jason beside you, to his three other children lined up coincidently in height order. His eyes rested on you again and a flat determination set in his eyes. 

“Fine, you’ll have the headquarters” He conceded. “With Red Robin. Dick and Jason, you track the weapon, Damian and I will go to LexCorps labs”

“Wait what the fuck--”

“You’re not making a mess again” He interrupted Jason, pointing a finger at him but also meaning you. Jason held up his hand in sarcastic surrender before Bruce backed off. “We leave in five”

The boys emptied the room, and as you were about to follow then, Jason’s hand gently gripped your forearm, halting your tracks. He waited until everyone left before turning his head sideways to look at you.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He muttered so the mics on the cameras wouldn’t pick it up.

“I’ve been preparing for 18 years for this moment” You replied at the same volume, meeting his eyes. “I’m ready”

He sighed, conceding. “Be careful”

“I can take it”

“I know” His replied harshly. “I mean be careful about Tim. If not he’ll figure it all out before you can spell his stupid three letters name”

So, that was the real reason Bruce paired you up with someone else than Jason. To have a babysitter slash detective watching you. You nodded at Jason and sidestepped him, joining the others in the garage. Everybody was around their vehicle of choice, and a single black ninja bike remained unclaimed. Bruce appeared in your field of vision, holding a key in his left hand. He began handing it to you, but paused mid way.

“Not a scratch, you’re only borrowing” He warned, but didn’t move afterward. You clipped your gas proof half mask in place before reaching out for the keys, then took a step back and did a last check on your ammo.

Your quiver was full, your sword was sharp, and your five smaller arrows on your arm were loaded. The two tranquilizer darts were in the inside of your arm as well, and your bow string was still strong. You gave one look at your full face mask on the table, but you decided to leave it there and only pull on the hood of your suit instead.

Jason noticed from the other side of the room, and he suppressed a smile at your voluntary omission. 

-------

You crouched on the ledge of the building, looking down at the sidewalk some storeys down. Luthor would be supposed to be arriving at his building in about fifteen minutes. You had searched on the facial recognition software for his position, and after you found him at some town hall meeting, it had been easy to tag his position and anticipate his trajectory.

“So you trained Jason?”

You casted your eyes up, then back down again. You weren’t feeling another conversation about your past, and especially not with the spy that was sent to report your every move. Tim was standing a few feet in your hindsight, his red and black cape lightly flapping in the wind making a soft background noise beside the distant sirens and traffic sounds.

“Oooookay” He hummed. “You’re in full gloomy assassin mode. Got it”

You exhaled slowly through your nose. This would be a long night.

“So, what’s the deal with you and swords?” He asked again, taking the remaining steps to stand beside you. “C’mon Foxy, you’re--”

You snapped your head in his direction, and your glower was enough to make him shut up. “Don’t ever call me that”

“Shit, sorry” He mumbled.

“It’s time” You said and stood up straight. You grabbed your bow and grabbed your flare arrows, shooting two in the air. Then, you  aimed in the middle of the LexCorps building to a storey that had no light on. You shot a grappling line on the structure above the window and looped the loose end on a solid structure on the rooftop. You pulled on it to test its tension and hooked your bow to it. You stepped back on the ledge and nodded at Tim, who had already hooked his own pulley a few steps behind you. You jumped and slid down, your hand reaching for your high frequency dart. You loaded it on your arm and shot the glass at the end of the rope. You reached it moment later, feet first, and the window easily shattered with the velocity at which you barrelled into it. You grabbed the frame above you and tugged on your bow to free it then graciously rolled on your feet. Tim wasn’t far behind, jumping in with his momentum. He took a moment to disable all cameras and gave you a thumbs up.

You made your way out of this particular room, knowing the alarms would trigger a partial shutdown in less than a minute. You had to make it seem like you had a purpose being there, so all attention would be focused on LexCorps tower. Luckily, you knew there was a safe somewhere on the middle floors of the building. You had almost reached the stairs when the lights shut down, plunging you in a red glow. Only three floors would be on lockdown for now, yours and both the one above and under. You stopped by the door and gestured at it.

Tim took the lead and stuck a small explosive to the door, then shut his ears with his fingers for good measure. Seconds later, a quiet explosion when off and scrambled the electronic lock system. He pushed the door open and you engaged in the stairs. He pushed button on a device on his forearm, scanning the building for unusual electromagnetic waves. He halted his steps as the computer came up with a location, and he looked up the stairwell.

“Floor 17” He said, followed with a sigh. “I never signed up for all those stairs”

You only sent him an exasperated stare, and he got on the move again. One would have thought climbing the stairs six floors up would have never been a deterrent to an ex-robin, but here he was. You followed him silently, ears strained for any sound of footsteps that weren’t your own. Only when Tim set the second charge on the 17th floor door that shouts echoed below you, probably from the 11th were you had came from. The silent explosion came again, and you slipped through the kaputt door. You went left, a few paces behind Tim who was guiding you to the safe.

“Freeze!” 

You were about to round the corner when you halted your steps. Tim spun around, but you sent him a warning glance not to make a noise. They most likely hadn’t seen him yet. 

“Drop the bow!” The man barked again. “Drop the fucking bow!”

You smirked and crouched to put the bow down as ordered. Tim leaned on the wall, understanding your body language. He remembered that same morning when you all but humiliated Bruce in a duel, and decided to let you handle it. 

“Turn around”

Slowly, you spun on your feet to face the man ordering you around. He was the leader, probably, of a squad of ten men with their rifle facing you. Still in slow motion, you raised your arms, but drew two shurikens from your belt on their way up. Before they could take one step toward you, you threw the sharp stars shaped weapon and it stuck in two of the men on either side of the leader. You dropped on your knees as bullets started firing, grabbing back your bow and firing in the middle of the chaos. You moved on the floor, shooting gunmen as you went. Seven, six, five, four three, two…

Fire stopped and you held your next arrow nocked, ready to go. Silence had settled, and you glanced sideways at Tim. He shrugged. Then, an almost inaudible click reached your ears. Without looking away, you shot straight onto the explosive thrown your way, and he raised an eyebrow. You glanced at it, stuck to the wall for a second before going off.

“Show off much?”

“I’ve been known for it sometimes”

“I’m calling dibs on next batch--”

Your eyes widened when he stopped talking and drew one of his own shuriken, throwing it seemingly in your direction. You dodged it last second, then glanced behind you at the grunt and thumps. The last security guard had almost sneaked up on you. You glared at Tim with confusion and incomprehension, while he seemed smug enough.

“I’m telling everyone about this” 

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll see” 

You resumed your treasure hunt toward the safe, expecting the second wave of security anytime soon. Tim lead you to the safe, which was hidden in a fancy looking lounge. It was behind a portrait, in a most unoriginal way. You pulled it from the wall, knowing that alone would trigger alarms to disclose your position. You just needed a bit more artifices to keep the attention on you.

“How should we proceed?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and gestured to the safe vaguely. “Be my guest”

He grinned and got to work while you watched the door. The stomping of the next troop was steadily growing, so you readied your bow. “Two minutes, babysitter, two minutes”

“This one’s mine, remember” He huffed as you heard him press on random buttons. Then, you heard another explosive. Jesus, how many did he have? “Don’t you dare go for them Foxy”

“It won’t be a problem if I kill you first” You grumbled. “One minute”

“How many?”

“At least twenty” You informed him after listening to the sound more closely. “Thirty seconds. You sure you want them all?”

“Shut up and watch” 

He breezed past you, and seconds later, the door busted open. You retracted in the shadows, watching as he fought the armed men. He got to work with his bo staff, knocking out the first ten or so guards without breaking much of a sweat. But then, he became overwhelmed by the second half. He was surrounded, hitting blindly around him at this point. But he held on as much as he could, and his stubbornness reminded you of Jason’s. Except Tim didn’t look like a loose canon. 

“A little help here?”

“You told me they’re yours” You mused, distracting two guards that hadn’t seen you. They were searching for you in the darkness, and Tim took advantage of their distraction to knock them out too. “I wouldn’t dare”

“C’mon man!” He grunted. “I have twice as you did, and you owe me one!”

You rolled your eyes and put your bow down, then reached for your katana on your back. You took a few step forward and spun the long blade before attacking. Three men went to attack you when they noticed you step out of the shadows, but they didn’t really stand a chance. It took a minute to take down the remaining men.

“I still got more than you” He panted, retracting his bo staff. You watched as one guard pulled himself to his feet, raising his rifle to shoot Tim in the back. You lifted your arm and shot a small arrow in his throat.

“Now we’re quit”

He looked in between you and the man you took down, then to the device on your arm with wonder. “You’ve got to get me one of these”

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. “You’re a lot harder to rile up than Jason”

“The bar cannot be lower” He snorted. “Is it annoying you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes”

He grinned, but didn’t elaborate. 

“Do you think we did enough?” He changed the subject, but didn’t let you time to reply. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I’ll connect Batman”

You lifted your arms in exasperation. Soon enough, the comm in your ear connected with the rest of the group. 

“Nightwing, where are we with the tag?”

“We found it” Dick replied. “Coming to you as we speak. How’s it going on your side?”

“We blew up things. Foxy got her sword out”

“Foxy?” Jason repeated, and you could only picture his expression. 

“I will push you out of this window and I am dead serious” 

“Oh my god”

“Children” Bruce interrupted. “We copied the files at the lab. If you could pull one more distraction, we’re almost out”

“Copy that” Tim nodded and turned off the feed. “Let’s drop the grand finale”

“I’m tempted to shove an explosive up your nose and make a firework out of your head” You said dryly, not losing the glare.

“Jeez, now I see why you and Jay hit up so well” He chuckled and you frowned.

“Shut up”

“Only when I’m dead”

“No” You hissed. “Actually shut up, I’m hearing the next wave and something sounds weird. It’s like they’re rolling in something…”

He stopped talking as you tried to figure out what was the sound. You padded to the door, sheathing your sword and took a glance in the hallway, hearing the sound gradually come closer. It was heady, that was for sure, with some metal trailing behind. Then a black, metallic nose rounded the corner, and your eyes widened. Fuck.

“What’s going on--- oh shit”

“There they are!” A voice yelled as bullet began raining down on you. You didn’t have your bow, so you were forced to retreat. “Get Big Ben closer!”

“They have a fucking machine gun!” He yelled over the bullets.

“No shit!” You yelled back, sliding through the room and grabbing your bow on the fly. You then crawled behind the desk and flipped it on the side with a strangled cry of effort. It was pure wood, and judging by its heaviness, it would at least protect you from a while. Tim caught up on what you were doing and helped you push the desk against the busted doorframe. 

“Grand finale you said?” You huffed sarcastically once you were both crouched behind the desk. It wouldn’t last long against the machine gun, so you’d have to act fast. 

“At least we won’t have to come up with some dumb stunt” 

“Wouldn’t be so sure” You bit your lip, looking in between the window and the desk. They were drilling the machine gun to the ground on the other side. Your arrows wouldn’t do much against that, but you had another idea. You grabbed an explosive arrow and send it through the window, making it shatter in tiny pieces. “Cover me”

“What?” He hissed, watching you stand up when the fire ceased for reloading. “No-- Don’t-- Shit!”

You walked backward to the open window and shot a grappling line through the desk, as he fended off the guards with his shurikens. You pulled on it, and when you were sure it was secure, you whistled to grab Tim’s attention. “Time to go, babysitter”

He stood up and walked backward as well, emptying his shuriken reserve on the men. You grabbed his wrist and shoved your bow in his hand. “Hold tight”

He frowned at you, and you pushed him out of the windows with a smirk. You then returned your attention on the blocked doorway, lifting your arm once again. You waited until the desk was beginning to be dragged toward you by Tim’s fall, seeing the nozzle of the gun. Before they could fire, you shot an arrow right into it. You then jumped out of the window to avoid being reaped by the desk and grabbed the line. 

You let yourself slide down, clenching your gloved hand on the line to slow your fall. Soon enough, the ground was meer feet away. You gripped the line with your other hand to reach an acceptable speed to hit the ground. You finally pushed away from the line to give yourself space to grab your bow at the end of the line, and landed gracefully on your feet on the ground.

“You fucking pushed me out of the window!” Tim yelled at you.

“I told you I would do it” You replied flatly. 

“You’re insane!” He threw his hands up. “What if I had..”

You tuned his yelling out as someone caught your attention behind him. You took one step forward, your hand instinctively reaching for an arrow. There he was, the bastard that had killed your mother. 

Luthor.

He was exiting the building alone by a back exit, cell phone to his ear. You shot an arrow, but he dodged it last second. His wild stare stopped on you, already reloaded and ready to retake your shot. But he took off, and ignoring Tim’s protest, you went after him. You exchanged your regular arrow to an explosive one and shot it through the concrete archway leading to Robinson park. It came down and blocked his path, and he was trapped. He spun around with a gun at the same time you shot your arrow. You dodged the bullet just on time, and your arrow knocked the gun out of his hand, and for a second you just stared at each other. Then you slowly lifted your arm and aimed at him, pulling back your hood. You wanted to have a good look at him without being shadowed. 

His brow creased. 

Your breathing was loud through your half mask, but you didn’t back down. All you had to do was to take the shot and quickly, swiftly, pierce his throat and make him drown in his own blood. But your muscles were frozen in place. 

Behind you, an explosion went off. 

From your peripheral vision, you watched as a block of concrete was projected from LexCorps’ building structure. Then, you drew its trajectory down to a group of homeless people in tents. You clenched your teeth, your focus returning on Luthor, his expression set as if he dared you to take your shot. The homeless group started screaming and scrambling. You swallowed back a yell of frustration and reached for your last explosive arrow, aiming it at the concrete and destroying it in harmless pieces. 

When you looked again, Luthor was gone.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Beyond Seduction: pt III

Summary: Isobella Tennant is a woman wanting her independence but society dictates she must conform to their ways. Sam Winchester is the most sought after artist in London and one of its most notorious rakes. He also has a secret he has kept hidden for years. They come together with their own agendas and find something more than either expected.

Pairing: Artist!Sam Winchester x Isobella Tennant

Word Count: 2195

Warnings: Cursing, sexual innuendo, self degradation

A/N: Sam’s finding it harder to keep his thoughts and hands to himself. More slow burn in this part.

PART II

Mobile Masterlist

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

PART III

“Turn around slowly,”

Sam felt his breath catch as the lighting behind her turned his white shirt translucent and could see her figure.

Izzy was lean; her shoulders a gentle swoop, a waist needing no corset to achieve its dip, Sam was sure his large hands would overlap encircling it, narrow hips curved enough to give them a feminine shape, incredible legs with well defined calves peeking out from under the end of silk drawers. He could see between her thighs, Sam personally preferred them plumper, especially when he was lying in between them.

She slowly turned revealing her stomach did possess a slight feminine softness and far from his handful breasts perched high upon her chest needing no assistance to remain pert. Izzy was not malnourished like Sam first supposed but long and lean built.

As she turned her back to him, Sam drew in his lower lip and bit down to stop any noise as he pressed his palm against his swollen cock trying to find some relief.

His restraint was close to breaking, something about this woman made every fiber of his being want to take her apart, have her begging him for release but at the same time wanting to protect her from his own lasciviousness. He wanted her to freely give in and use him to discover her own hedonistic desires.

As she finished turning Sam quickly composed himself, shifting the sketch pad over his lap to cover his predicament. “Stand facing me I want to do a couple more and we’ll call it a night, I’m sure you must be getting tired.”

***

Izzy sat up with a start unsure what had awoken her and immediately regretted it. She burrowed back under the blanket remembering the events of yesterday.

After Sam had bid her goodnight at the second floor stairwell she took the pitcher to the WC happy to find there was still some warm water left in the pipes. She washed up quickly in the cool room deciding to not mess with the fire. Now she regretted it, it was freezing.

Wrapping the blanket around herself she went to the small round window and looked out at the light snow that had fallen sometime during the night.

Shivering she moved over to the pot bellied stove and opened the small door. She had seen the maids do this plenty of time so she picked up the small coal shovel and dumped coal into it. Finding paper starters she inserted a few in between the coal and lit a match to ignite the paper. The stove started smoking up the room as she had forgotten to open the flue.

Carefully reaching in she felt around for the handle, found it and pulled. It was stuck. She tried again, “Come on you bugger!” Izzy snapped as her door slammed open startling her. She landed on her bum at Sam’s shouting about burning the house down.

Hurrying over he knelt down and gripped the handle jerking it open, the smoke sucking upwards starting to clear the room.

Sam grabbed her arm roughly jerking her up onto her knees, “Don’t you have enough sense to open the fucking flue before starting a fire!”

“I tried to open it but the son of a bitch was stuck! How dare you charge in here and roughhouse me you bastard!” Izzy yelled back and shoved Sam hard enough he ended up on his arse.

They glared at each other breathing hard for different reasons. Sam was awoken to the smell of smoke triggering the worst memory of his life and in his panic lost his temper out of fear.

Izzy, despite the beliefs about redheads, rarely lost her temper but Sam's forceful manhandling had triggered strange sensations she was unsure of and it scared the hell out of her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper but you come barreling in yelling and putting your hands on me, that isn’t something I’m accustomed to.”

Sam grimiest, “I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I apologize. And this is my fault, I forgot the flue sticks sometimes. Here, let me show you how to work it.”

Sam watched Izzy scoot over in front of the stove awaiting his instruction. There was one problem; he couldn’t reach in and still have room around his arm for her to see what he did. He moved behind her and got on his knees trapping her legs between his. “What are…”

“You wouldn’t be able to see what I’m doing so I’ll guide you on how to work it.” Sam informed her as he took her hand and inserted them into the stoves opening.

“Feel for the handle,” she wrapped her fingers around the lever as his fingers covered hers, “good. Now when you tug it, twist your wrist at the same time,” Sam instructs. As their arms slid back she pressed against his chest, his naked chest.

Izzy became intimately aware of his substantial member as she was only in her undergarments and Sam, having rushed out of his room, in only his sleep attire.

While most Englishmen wore knee length sleep shirts Sam preferred the pajama style pants from India that hide absolutely nothing when it came to his lower physique.

“I believe I have the technique down on how to work it.”

Her phrasing caused Sam’s member to stiffen more. He slowly rocked his hips in a subtle manner enjoying the friction from the silken material and heat of her.

Sam placed his lips near her ear, “Not yet but you will soon.”

***

Sam yawned as the carriage traveled over London’s busy cobblestone streets. He turned to Izzy finding her starting out the window, wondering what she was thinking. Neither mentioned the incident in her room when they meet in his studio after lunch yesterday. Sam thought back on their slightly skewed conversation.

***

Izzy sat there fidgeting again.

“Will you sit still?”

“I’m bored, not used to just sitting doing nothing. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“I don’t care.” she cocked her head, “Where are you from originally? I can’t quite place your accent.”

“North.”

“North what?”

“Just north, straighten your head up.”

“Is your family still there?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?”

“...”

“What do they do?”

“Work on an estate.”

“Which one?”

“...”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oldest, middle or youngest?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you being obsequious?”

“Why are you being nosy?”

Izzy blows a raspberry at him.

“That was rude.”

“Then answer my questions.”

“I would if you asked something interesting.”

She squints slightly, “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine.”

She snorted, “practically decrepit.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Practicality baggage yourself.”

Izzy smiled, making Sam catch his breath. It did nothing to improve her looks but was the most guileless one he’d ever seen; he couldn’t help but laugh. She slumped forward resting her forearms on crossed legs studying him.

“When did you see your first nude female?”

“I was twelve.”

“Who was she?”

“Chambermaid. I caught her while washing up.”

“Is that when you decided to become a painter?”

The sketchbook slipped on Sam’s knee as he jerked his head up in surprise. “You think I do this so I can freely ogle naked women?”

“You wouldn’t be the first depraved man that used a legitimate profession for it.”

Depraved. That word stuck in Sam’s mind the rest of the day. Yes, he had done many things in his life that society would consider deprived but to him, it felt natural.

He had stayed up looking at his sketches of her pondering how he would paint her. She didn’t fit most of the classics, her looks were too generic and completely unique at the same time when inspiration finally struck.

***

The carriage stopped in front of a semi detached house in a quiet street. Sam led them to a side entrance. As he rang the bell, Izzy looked at the placard: Madame de Merteuil- Seamstress.

The door opens revealing an older woman. She greeted Sam in heavily accented English, ushering them into her well appointed home. They conversed briefly before Izzy was led into another room.

A younger assistant joined them. Izzy removed her orange dress and Madame de Merteuil personally took her measurements, tutting under her breath, just like her mother's personal seamstress, who only went by Madame, always did at her lack of figure.

The assistant had to bring many swatches of cloth to test against her skin tone, the unflattering comments in French never stopped.

Izzy chose a couple of safe, simple styles and a few undergarments in silk, she couldn’t stand scratchy wool ones, making the seamstress sniff but had them brought out to Sam for approval. She returned telling her they were done.

Sam was flipping through a dress pattern book when Izzy came out. “I hope I didn’t select too many things.” He looked at her curiously, “I thought you would have chosen more than you did.” Izzy shrugged, “I don’t need much.”

Sam was surprised when Madame de Merteuil showed him what had been selected. The women he had brought here previously generously spent his coin but outside of the silk undergarments, which made him wonder if the Duke had given her the ones he had seen her in, Izzy had chosen the simplest everyday garments the seamstress produced.

“Is there anything else needed, Monsieur Winchester?”

Sam looked at Madame de Merteuil, “Yes, do you still have any that dark green left? I’d like it for a coat.”

“Oui, that material would compliment her well.”

“She’ll need an evening gown, that purple silk you showed me, you know what style I like.”

The seamstress bid them goodby. After they climbed into the carriage Izzy turned to Sam. “Why…”

“You are in need of a coat.” He said, “And an evening gown?” Sam shrugged, “I get invited to many events and I never go alone.”

Their last stop was to the pharmacists for personal toiletries and other sundry items. Sam made a face putting back the soaps and shampoo she had selected and chose some far more luxurious crafted items.

Izzy mentally frowned, she had picked the ones she had always used that were moderately fragranced, she didn't like the heavy, cloying scents many favored to hide the strong, unpleasant odors that came with living in London.

Well, if it was what he liked she would have to use them.

***

Izzy walked into the studio as Sam was finishing adjusting a side saddle on a wooden horse, the type workmen used, not the kind children rode.

He smiled at her confused expression, “I’ve decided on the composition for the picture,” he informed her as she started stepping up on the platform, “you will be Lady Godiva...” Izzy’s foot missed the edge and she banged her knee against it.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? She is considered one of the most beautiful women of all times! Mud puddles get more looks th…”

Sam was off the platform grabbing Izzy’s chin between his long fingers forcing her to stop talking and look up at him. He could feel her swallow hard at his thunderous expression.

“As long as you're in my home you are to never say another disparaging comment about your looks! Blink once if you understand me,” she did, “I don’t know who filled your head with that nonsensical claptrap but you have got to stop thinking that way.”

Sam let go of her chin and sat down speaking in a gentler tone, “Let me see your knee, make sure you didn’t injure yourself.” He picked her foot up and placed it on the edge of the platform lifting her skirt up to lay over her thigh and pushed her drawers up feeling around the joint. Her knee had a red line across it but seemed uninjured otherwise.

“Hmmm, you’ll have a bruise, I’ll have Mrs. Mills make a compress for it later. Now, as I was saying, you will be Lady Godiva, I need to sketch you several different compositions before starting the actual portrait so you’ll need to stop wearing my shirt.”

Sam had allowed her to continue wearing it with her drawers but now he needed to actually see her form unobstructed. “You can keep your drawers on for a bit longer but at some point you will lose them too.” Izzy bit her lip in uncertainty.

“Look, if you're too much of a mewling quim, you can leave right now.” Sam stood up irritated, it wasn’t like she had never been naked in front of a man before.

If there was one thing that made Isobella Tennant irate it was to insinuate she was a coward, no one ever got away with it.

With a defiant expression Izzy stared directly into Sam’s eyes before removing her dress and pulled the chemise over her head. She held it up and dramatically released it from her hand. She then untied her drawers letting them pool around her feet before kicking them away.

Turning her back on Sam, she stepped up onto the platform and mounted the saddle.

“Do you want it up or down?”

Forevers: @donnaintx

[t0d0r0ni]

Ikemen Revolution Characters in a Fantasy RPG [Lancelot, Ray, Sirius, Jonah, Luka, Edgar]

I would first like to explain the types:

Physical: most common type. They're usually very good at hand-to-hand combat, and have better than average reflexes. Their strength and speed stats are no joke, either. They cannot use any weapons or magic, however. In exchange, they either have even more boosted physical ability or a very high intelligence stat. The only weapons they can use are without blades. Only high-level Physical players can use weapons, and even then the most they can use are short swords and daggers.

Sword: second most common type. They're no good in hand to hand combat at all, but their reflex stats are off the charts, the best in the game. Their strength and speeds stats are lower than Physical's, but it's still pretty high. They naturally have high intelligence for strategies or sword techniques. Their magic capabilities is just healing magic. This might seem overpowered, but just remember, they just have short-range combat to protect and attack. Their mana stats aren't high, but they can blow off many in-game currency gold coins to greatly raise it to a Magic User's level.

Magic: most rare type. They're no good in physical combat nor good with any weapons, but their magic skills and mana levels make them the strongest species. Only avaiable to about 5 percent of the whole game population, their powers are very much feared and respected. They can teleport, heal, and attack and defend. If they run out of mana, they're completely useless unless they use stat boosters (which cost a FORTUNE).

In between species: Physical-Sword, Sword-Magic, Magic-Physical (The magic hybrid types make up about one percent of the gaming population, and the physical-sword types are only three percent of the gaming population.)

*To avoid restarting the game to get a Magic type, the game is designed strictly only to be used for three players only. If you use all three, you get your first player type and you stick with it. The gaming console that's supporting the game will only support one copy of the game.

Ray Blackwell

Probably a leader on one of the top guilds, having a rumor that he's a magic and sword type. His reputation is largely consisted of admiration from all players and a hint of fear. He's very popular with female players.

Lancelot Kingsley

The absolute top guild that's feared all over the game. He's a known and very rare magic and sword user. He's known as a cold, and ruthless commander and fighter who wouldn't hesitate to cut or blow anyone down.

Sirius Oswald

Sirius: He isn't in a guild, but he has a positive reputation among guilds for leading any guild to victory at the front lines. Known as a physical user, his intelligent stats are very high. Guilds often request to be in their guild. He always rejects it, but he always helps them out. He refuses to help Lancelot's guild, though.

Jonah Clemence

He's the proud second-in-command in Lancelot's guild. He wanted to team with Luka, trying to bribe him to join their guild and instead getting a raid or an attack. He's arrogant and very picky about his likes and dislikes. He's very fashionable and is very rich in the game. Though he's the second most common type, the sword type, he is one of the best. People often cower over his presence.

Luka Clemence

He's a guild leader of a very powerful guild he made with his two hands. Luka often teams up with Sirius to keep his guild rank stable, as he is only a sword type. He's always short and distant, though his healing capabilities and fighting capabilities are best among the nation. He teams up with the Devil Edgar Bright when they commenced raids from other guilds. He's known as a kind individual who's profile is one of the most beautiful. Luka, however goes full force when clashing with Lancelot's guild, as he's annoyed by his brother's presence. He wanted to stay away from him whenever possible, yet he still appeared.

Edgar Bright

Edgar: He's surprisingly a solo player, but he is known as a PK player to the tens of thousands of players. AKA the Devil, he can kill every opponent he's every faced, besides the most powerful players. He is a gentleman on the outside, but he is the scariest assassin in the inside. Guilds often request assassination jobs for Edgar.

I really want to do the other characters now and MAKE a fanfiction about it. Should I?