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sailorspazz · 3 years

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10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

#10 dance #10dance

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lettersnorth · 3 years

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Loe was following directly behind Locke, but even he knew to keep his distance a few feet away from the man taking the lead. And as they ventured down a short staircase leading down into the lower levels of the ship the two doors leading into the storeroom immediately came into view. The moment they arrived Locke turned towards the rest of the crew following after him as he brought a finger up to his lips, silently motioning for the others to stay quiet while he crept up towards the door with Loe following after him. For a man of Loe's size, stealth wasn't his strongest point but he made do as he gently shuffled over the floorboards.

From the other side of the door a soft, muffled voice could be heard. A woman's by Locke's guess, and one that was quickly met with the harsh sound of a man yelling in response whose words came out much clearer. "Hey! I said shut up!"

He knelt down on one knee and pressed his face towards the keyhole, peeking through it with one eye. "I see... there's a few in there. Blindfolded. Bound. One guard. Can't make out another." His words were soft but precise, relaying little else but the information they needed to assess the situation at hand.

"I can take him," he said toward Loe before a momentary pause. "But he's too far. I need to get closer."

"Your orders, Capt'n?"

"Kick the door in when I say so."

"Aye, say when."

Locke then turned toward Aislinn, motioning her to draw closer. "Aislinn, give us some cover. Don't fire if it can be avoided. We've still got the element of surprise for the party upstairs, and I'd hate to give that up now."

She nodded in reply to his words and then hesitated. From the way it sounded Locke’s plan was to go rushing headlong into the room. “As I recall, that iron plate strapped to your chest didn’t look like it could take another hit.” her glance shifted away from him, moving down to her gun on the pretense of checking her rounds. But she knew exactly how many were in the cylinder. “Just...keep that in mind.” she said, quiet.

"I can count on you to patch me up if it came to that, wouldn't I?" he said with a playful wink. Even in their current predicament he still had a way of easing tensions.

Yes, but that was hardly the point. Twelve above, she might have had the rug pulled out from under her regarding his chosen profession but she could clearly see he was still impossible. The look she gave him in reply said as much.

Locke then turned toward Loe, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. One that Loe responded to in kind with a nod of his own as he took one step back as his right leg rose up into the air seconds before he slammed the sole of his boot against the door. Striking near the handle itself as the wood cracked and gave way to the forceful blow, opening a path to the storage room as Locke suddenly rushed forward with the gunblade in hand pointing directly behind him as he charged forward.

The sudden blow to the door caught the lone guard inside by surprise, and the man barely had time to react before Locke came barreling through. With a pull of the trigger it soon became clear why his crew had been so cautiously putting some space behind him. It sounded like a muffled gunshot going off. One dampened by a rush of heavy wind. The force being expelled from the barrel was enough to make the one door still standing rattle as it launched the Hyur forward and with a twist of his body he used his momentum to strengthen his swing, beheading the man in one fell swoop.

The poor bastard was barely quick enough to draw his own blade midway out of its sheath before collapsing onto the ground, headless.

All said, it was over in a blink of an eye and left Aislinn frozen in stunned silence still trying to piece it all back together. She lowered her gun and her wide-eyed gaze slid to Loe to gauge the Roegadyn’s reaction. No such shock lined his face, which told her such a feat from Locke hadn’t been out of the ordinary.

The sudden commotion sent a ripple of whispers and fearful gasps from the others on board. Men, women, and children alike all bound and blindfolded. There must have been a dozen of them in total.

"Seven hells," Locke muttered softly under his breath as he took a wary glance around the room. No other hostiles, it seemed.

Shaking herself, Aislinn holstered her gun and carefully moved into the room, her eye drawn against her will to the bodiless head that had rolled several paces away. The hostages seemed to be holding their collective breath.

“Not more of your crew, I take it?” she said in reply to Locke’s soft curse. She finally looked up at him, once again redrawing his measure with an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time she did so.

"No, I don't recognize this lot. If I had to guess, I'd say they're our missing merchants," he replied as he took out a small piece of cloth and ran it along the edge of his blade, cleaning off the blood that still clung to the metal before sliding it back into its sheath.

Aislinn crossed to the woman closest to them and knelt down. “Listen, it’s alright.” she said, careful to inject a soothing tone into her normally matter-of-fact voice. It was more to alert the blindfolded woman to her presence than anything else.

Touching her gently on the shoulders, Aislinn carefully turned her away from the sight of the bloody, beheaded man before freeing the blindfold from the woman’s eyes. That certainly didn’t need to be the first thing she laid eyes on. “Can you tell me your name? How’d you end up on this ship?” Aislinn asked as the woman blinked against the sudden light.

"Loe, get an extra pair of hands and clean this up." Locke said as he motioned the Roegadyn over. Luckily for them, there was a large piece of cloth nearby that they could use to easily hide the body for now.

The woman visibly flinched and recoiled back the moment she heard Aislinn, but upon realizing the voice was a far throw from their guard's she began to relax. "Eve... Evelyn," she replied as the blindfold came free and she began to frantically glance around the room.

"Wait, my boy. Where's my boy?" she suddenly cried out.

The voice of a young child soon answered. "Mama? Mama! I'm right here. Mama, I'm scared." he practically whimpered.

The boy lay just few feet away sprawled across the floor, squirming in his binds in an attempt to drag himself closer towards the voice of his mother.

Aislinn immediately turned to the sound of the distressed child. The sight of him flailing on the floor squeezed her heart as well as any vise-like grip. Moving to his side, she murmured a few reassuring words as she slipped a small knife from her boot and hurriedly cut his binds and pulled the blindfold down from his eyes.

With a cry, he clumsily launched himself at his mother who, still wrapped in her own ties, was nearly bowled over by the force. Aislinn made short work of her binds as well and then stood back, turning to look over the rest of the hostages, all who had their necks craned to the sounds of one little boy’s reunion with his mother. Uncertain and cautious hope rippling through them.

“Oh, thank the Twelve.” the woman dissolved into tears as her arms wrapped around her son and pulled him close to her, kissing his hair, his cheek. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

A dark look passed like a cloud over Aislinn’s face. There was an anger in her heart ready to paint the deck above red with the bodies of those who had done this. She spared a brief glance at Locke, letting her expression speak for her before she turned and, starting with the closest hostage, began freeing them one by one.

Locke motioned a few members of his crew over to follow Aislinn's example and do the same while the others went to retrieving their weapons in a nearby chest tucked away in the corner of a room. Even from her brief glance the anger in her features was as clear as day, and with the help of a few extra hands it wasn't long before the entirety of the hostages were freed.

"Thank you," some muttered quietly under their breaths toward Aislinn while a handful said nothing at all, but the anxiety was evident on their faces. And once the last man was freed it was Locke who spoke at the center of them all.

"We're not quite out of the woods yet, folks. Afraid there's still some matters to take care of upstairs. Rest assured, we'll see it done and once it's over I'll be sure to get you lot home. Until then I need you folks to sit tight." he said as a few anxious whispers spread over the group.

With the hostages freed, Aislinn had stepped back to the fringes of the room while the crew gathered their weapons and whatever else they might need from the storeroom for the fight that awaited them above. As Locke addressed the frightened merchants, she listened, of course, but more than that she watched. If he was angry his ship had been stolen out from under him and used to kidnap people across La Noscea, her rightful crew relegated to a dank brig, there was surely no sign of it at that moment. He was nothing but calm, confident reassurance. Because he could see plain as day that was what these people needed. Assurance that all would be well.

And there lay the crux of it all. A Captain needed to be a natural born performer. Because the crew was always watching, judging from his actions alone when they needed to be concerned, when they didn’t. In any situation they took their cue from him. The thought struck Aislinn with a sudden dose of clarity. How exhausting, to be ‘on’ all the time.

Locke then turned toward the woman and her son, the first of the two that Aislinn had freed. The boy clung toward his mother's side, shrinking away as Locke now stood before them.

The Hyur knelt down, bringing himself at eye level with them both as he glanced toward the boy and flashed a reassuring smile. A familiar sight to Aislinn in their brief time together. "Easy now, no one's gonna hurt you. I can promise you that. You've been a brave kid to tough it out this far. I know, why don't I show you a magic trick?"

The boy just sat there silently as Locke fished a single coin from his pocket. Another familiar trick. He let it roll between his fingers before clenching it into his right hand in a tightly wound fist. "Now, which hand is it in?" he asked the boy who pointed directly toward his right only for Locke to open it to reveal it empty.

The boy's mouth fell open as he stared in shock before quickly pointed toward Locke's left, and once again he opened it to reveal an empty palm.

"That's odd, now where did I... oh, that's right," Locke grinned as he reached forward, plucking the coin right out from behind the boy's ear. "Now how did that get there, I wonder." His words were met by a soft bout of laughter from the boy who finally relaxed his hold against his mother's arm.

"What's your name?"

"Ian," the boy replied.

"Ian, why don't you hold onto this for now?" Locke said as he placed the coin into the boy's hand. "It's a good luck charm. Kept me safe plenty of times, and now it can do the same for you." To which the boy eagerly accepted with a nod. "Now, I have a special job for you, Ian. My friends and I need to go upstairs to take care of some bad people, but I'll need someone down here to keep an eye on things and protect the others. You think you can do that for me?"

"I... I don't know mister. I'm not too sure I can,"

"What, a brave kid like you? Nonsense. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust with this job."

"Well, okay... um, I can sure try."

"Aye, that a boy." Locke reached out to gently ruffle the kid's hair before he rose and made his way toward Aislinn. "Shall we?"

As Locke approached, she dropped her hand from her chest and nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of heat and flame that had begun to radiate within from the center of her chest. It had been happening more and more since the business with Red Argos began. Perhaps she was much more of an angry person than she had ever thought herself to be. A disconcerting idea, to be sure, and one she didn’t enjoy entertaining. She never pegged herself as having an uncontrollable temper. Certainly not one that burned from the inside out.

“You were right, of course. That trick is a big hit with kids.” she paused as she took a careful look into the hall. “I don’t think little Ian is going to lose that coin any time soon. Not when you've gone and turned it into bona fide good luck charm.”

She turned back to him and signaled that the way was clear.

He chuckled softly and maneuvered himself to take point once more but before he walked past he paused to draw his revolver from its holster before flipping it around and holding it out towards Aislinn with its handle pointed in her direction. "Here, take it. You're a damn good shot but it's all close quarters from here. I expect it back once this is all said and done."

"Boss, we're ready," said Loe as he approached with a heavy looking two-handed hammer in his grasp along with the others of his crew, each armed with weapons of their own.

"Aye, right to it then. Let's not keep our gracious hosts waiting."

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #rp snippets #Lost Wings #Locke Fairwind #Aislinn North

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ericsonclan · 3 years

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Rockabye

Summary: Clementine and Louis are out in the woods when they hear a baby cry.

Word Count: 2856

Read on AO3:

“Been a long time since it was just you and me out here,” Clementine noted, smiling over at her husband as they walked through the woods together.

“That it has,” Louis agreed, flashing her his signature smile. “You could almost call this a date: you and I alone together, the ambient noises of the forest providing the perfect backdrop for a romantic moment or two to be stolen before we head back,”

“I would hardly call checking traps a date… but it is nice,” Clementine reached out, her hand taking Louis’. The pair let their intertwined hands swing back and forth lazily as they strolled deeper into the woods. With Maisy and Lee Kenny still so young there was rarely time where they could afford to both go out for the day. But Willy and Allison had promised to keep an eye on the kids and she and Louis had both jumped at the chance. Clementine loved her kids with all her heart but having some breathing space from the chaos was a gift to be enjoyed, one so rarely received she almost didn’t know what to do with it.

“We should take the scenic route. A little tiptoe through the tulips perhaps?” Louis grinned playfully, causing his wife’s nose to wrinkle in amusement.

“Alright. Five minutes. Then we get back to work,”

“But of course,”

Before Clementine could protest, Louis had swept her off her feet and was striding off the beaten path to a nearby patch of wildflowers. “Louis!” she exclaimed before devolving into giggles. “Put me down!”

“And risk you stepping on one of the flowers? No, my darling Clementine, leave it to me to safely navigate us to our final destination,”

“And where might that be?”

“That, my dear, is a secret,”

Clementine rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. Leave it to Louis to still come up with little adventures even after all this time. Nearly ten years together and she was just as smitten as the day they’d first crossed paths. After a few steps further, Louis placed his wife down upon a fallen log that lay near the wildflowers. Sitting down beside her, he took her hand once more. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder, nuzzling it gently. “This is nice,”

“Best five minutes I’ve had in a long time,”

They were silent for a moment, enjoying the stillness and peace of the forest around them. There hadn’t been as many walkers around this past month, likely because most of them had gone with a large herd that had swept through the area a few weeks back. Clementine had never been more thankful to be surrounded by brick walls than when she saw the size of the herd as it slowly passed by. It had been somewhat difficult to stay behind those walls as the woods cleared out, but the time spent in lockdown had shown all of them how truly self-sufficient the school had become. Still, Clementine hoped they wouldn’t have to face anything like that again for a long time to come.

“Hold still for a sec,” Louis’ hand reached out toward her face, pausing at the corner of her eye before drawing back. On his index finger lay a single eyelash. “Go on, make a wish,”

“What?”

“Make a wish then close your eyes and blow the eyelash off my finger. Trust me, it’s a thing,”

Clementine considered her wish carefully. What did she want that she didn’t have? For years growing up on the road all she would have wished for was a home and now she had that. Not just a home, but a family that she could never have even dared to imagine. Truth be told, she didn’t really wany anything more. She just wanted things to stay the same. With that thought in mind, Clementine closed her eyes and blew away the eyelash.

The sound of a baby’s cry carried through the forest. The sound immediately tore through Clementine’s heart. Her eyes shot up to meet Louis’. They were both thinking the same thing: the children. Sprinting toward the source of the sound, both ran with all their might, their minds frantic at the possibilities of what could have happened.

The cries were coming from the opposite direction of the school. It made no sense but there was no time to try to sort through how this had happened. Clementine almost tripped, causing Louis to pause to help her. “No! Go!” Clementine screamed. Louis looked torn for a moment then ran ahead, Clementine following behind as she struggled to match his pace.

Moments later they broke out into a clearing, the sounds louder than ever. Clementine’s eyes scanned her surroundings, searching for Maisy or Lee Kenny. Neither were there. Zachariah and Savannah were nowhere to be found either. She looked to Louis, but he appeared just as lost as she was. They ran through the clearing, still searching in a panic, but there was no child to be seen. Clementine paused for a second, trying to refocus her senses to hone in on the direction the screams were coming from. There, just across from them! Grabbing Louis’ hand, Clementine ran toward the cries.

They froze as they drew near. There at the base of a large tree were at least a dozen walkers all with heads and arms lifted toward the source of the crying: a basket that dangled from one of the lower tree branches.

“It’s not one of the kids,” Clementine whispered, eyes large in disbelief.

“No,” Louis shook his head. “It’s a baby,”

“Who the fuck leaves a baby in a tree?”

“Someone desperate? Either way,” Louis drew out Chairles, “We have to act now. If they haven’t returned at the sound of its cries, they may not be coming back at all,”

Clementine nodded. Drawing the compound bow, she aimed at the nearest walker. “As soon as I hit one, the rest will see us,”

“I’ll make some noise, draw a few of them off to the side,”

“It’s a risk. If there are more getting drawn in by the baby’s cries…”

“We can do this,” Louis gave his wife a look of determination. “We have to,”

He was right. “I’ll take the first one,” Making sure her aim was true, Clementine let out a centering breath before letting the arrow fly. It shot through the air and struck its target, braining a walker before it even knew what hit it. The corpse dropped to the ground, the sound temporarily drawing the attention of the other walkers away from the baby.

“Hey!” Louis shouted, walking away from his wife to get some of the heat off of her. “Over here, deadheads! Come at me!”

The walkers eagerly gave chase, their withered legs moving as quickly as they could. Drawing another arrow, Clementine shot another one. Her aim was a bit off though. Instead of going through the brain it knocked off the walker’s jaw, already dangling by a thread of sinew. Swearing under her breath, Clementine drew again. But this time there was another walker that was nearer with one more right behind it. With barely any distance between them Clementine shot an arrow directly between its eyes before drawing her knife to face the other.

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Louis called over before swinging out to bash in a walker’s skull. The one that Clementine had de-jawed was now making its way over to him at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you want some more pain?” Louis quipped. Swinging upwards, he hit its head so hard that the neck snapped. The walker’s head flopped over to the side, still connected to the body but dangling as uselessly as its jaw had been. With the walker posing no more immediate threat, Louis kicked it backwards, sending it tumbling into the next two walkers behind it. Striding forward, Louis brained the collapsed walkers one after another.

The baby’s cries had picked up again, its wails more like screams. The sound was drawing the walkers back and from what Clementine could hear in the forest surrounding them there were more walkers nearby. Stabbing the walker she’d been grappling with through the eye, she dug in deep, twisting the knife to pierce the brain. The walker’s milky eye burst on contact with her blade, dribbling down the hilt of her knife and onto her hand. The walker collapsed as its brain ceased to function and Clementine quickly flicked the eye and brain matter from her knife before sheathing it and redrawing her bow.

Seeing his wife was aiming for the walker nearest the basket on the left, Louis headed right. Drawing back Chairles once more, he slammed it against the side of the nearest walker’s skull from behind before backstepping quickly. He needed to spread out the remaining walkers if he was going to be able to take them out without getting bit. A walker crumpled to the ground by the tree, an arrow embedded in the back of its skull. That was another one down. Four to go. Unless… Louis glanced backwards. A pair of walkers were approaching them from behind. Those needed to be dealt with before they got the jump on them. “Clem! We got some stragglers. You good with me stepping away for a sec?”

Clementine nodded. “Go!” She could see Louis running behind her out of the corner of her eye before she refocused on her next target. A particularly tall walker looked like it actually might have a chance at reaching the baby. Its outstretched hand brushed against the base of the basket, causing it to sway back and forth. “You get the fuck away,” Clementine growled. Her next arrow struck right on target, going through the walker’s brain and embedding itself in the tree. The walker’s corpse slouched lifeless, held upright by the very arrow that had killed it. Three more to go. Behind her, Clementine could hear Louis struggling. “Need help?”

“Nah, save your arrows! These two are just being extra cranky! Isn’t that right, fellas?” Louis looked up at the pair he was facing. He’d gotten a few hits in, but one had missed and knocked an arm off instead while the others hadn’t been enough to take down the nearer walker. “You, sir, have a remarkably thick skull. I wonder if that made it hard for your teachers when you were in school. It’s certainly an inconvenience for me,” Drawing close, Louis decided to take an alternate approach. Jamming Chairles into the walker’s mouth, he used the leverage to push the creature backwards. Kicking out the other’s knee to buy himself time, Louis walked forward, forcing the walker to stumble backwards till its back hit a tree. Perfect.

Chairles was lodged firmly in the walker’s mouth, so when Louis drew his weapon back the walker came with it. “Nice try, buddy, but no cigar for you,” Thrusting forward, Louis bashed the walker’s head against the tree before forcing it forward once more to prepare for another hit. The tree grew red with the walker’s blood before finally Chairles burst through the back of its skull, killing it instantly. Louis grinned proudly at his work before realizing his mistake. This walker was dead, but Chairles was now wedged inside its skull and there was another walker mere steps away. “Clem! A little help?”

Clementine spun round to see a walker about to grab her husband. “Louis!” The walker was inches away from her husband who was desperately trying to rip his weapon out of the dead walker’s skull. There was no time to think. Drawing her bow, Clementine immediately shot it, praying her aim was true. Before she could know, a grisly hand pulled her backwards. She’d let one sneak up on her. With a frantic cry, Clementine thrust her knife behind her, hearing a loud crunch as knife scraped bone then embedded in flesh. There was the warm feeling of blood spilling upon her shoulder before the dead walker collapsed, taking Clementine down with it and pinning her beneath its weight. Clementine groaned, her breaths labored as she struggled to get out before another walker reached her.

“Clem!” Louis was at her side in seconds. Her aim had been true after all. Grabbing his wife’s hand, Louis tried to pull her out from beneath the walker. But there were more pressing problems. A walker was approaching his pinned wife and looked intent on biting her exposed ankle. “Think again, fucker!” Louis yelled, leaping forward and swinging with all his might. The blow tore off the top of the walker’s skull. Its hair fluttered back and forth on the piece of bone dangling off the side of its head. That opening was all he needed. Sending Chairles crashing down from above, Louis obliterated the offensive creature. He then spun round to check on his wife. “Clem, are you-”

“I’m alright! Just help me get the rest of the way out!” Clementine grunted with effort, struggling to free her trapped prosthetic from under the corpse. Louis rushed over, lifting the walker just enough to let Clementine slip the rest of the way out before letting it fall once more to the ground. The couple smiled at each other before glancing over to the tree where the basket dangled. Only one walker was left, reaching for the basket in dazed desperation.

“Do you want the honors, my darling?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Withdrawing her knife one last time, Clementine snuck up behind the walker and thrust the knife deep within its skull. The walker went still and she tossed it to the side, finally breathing a sigh of relief. “We actually did it,”

“That we did,” Louis smiled proudly at his wife, stepping forward to join her. Both looked up at the basket. The baby was still crying, louder than ever. They didn’t have much time before all of this would be for naught and more walkers would come wandering in. The pair shared a look. Louis dropped to his knees. “Hop up on my shoulders. I think that’s our best bet to get the basket down safely,”

Clementine nodded and climbed on, gasping slightly as her husband got back to his feet.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Take a step to your right. One more…there,” Clementine looked down into the basket for the first time. The baby couldn’t be more than a few months old. It was dressed in a ratty, oversized t-shirt and wrapped in a blanket. Its dark skin was hot to the touch, from the heat or its prolonged screams Clementine couldn’t tell. She tried to calm it for a moment before realizing that was futile until they had it safely down. Holding the sides of the basket, she looked down at Louis. “Step back slowly. We’ll have to go bit by bit till we get it off this branch,”

Louis nodded and followed suit. Inch by inch they guided the basket off the branch as the baby wailed and writhed within it. The forest seemed quiet, but they knew that could change at any second. Clementine gripped the basket tightly, adjusting and tilting it slightly to get past the bumps and grooves of the branch. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime she pulled the basket the last few inches and it was free, the weight of the basket and baby shifting to Clementine’s arms. She held it close to her chest, smiling softly down at the baby as she shifted her grip to the handle. “Gonna hand the basket down to you then hop off your back. OK, Lou?”

Louis’ hands rose to receive it. “Gotcha,”

Once she was sure the basket had been safely transferred over, Clementine slipped down from her husband’s back. She circled round to look at the crying baby Louis now held in his arms. The baby was still wailing, clearly too overwhelmed to be comforted simply through cuddles. She needed food, water, maybe medicine. “We have to get her back to the school. Then we can head back out in search of any parents or guardians she might have,”

“Look,” Louis tugged on the corner of the blanket the baby was wrapped in. On it was sewn a single word in messy, tangled thread – a name. Juliet. “Think that’s her name?”

“Maybe,” Clementine pressed the back of her hand to the baby’s forehead. Her temperature was troubling. “You carry her. I’ll cover you with the bow,”

“Alright,”

“Just give me a minute to grab the arrows,” Walking round the corpses, Clementine retrieved her spent arrows. She wondered if the person who’d left Juliet was still nearby. Did they want her? They’d left her somewhere safe, but they hadn’t come when she cried. So were they dead or simply gone? Answers would have to come later. For now their priority had to be Juliet. Rejoining her husband, Clementine notched an arrow, bow at the ready. “Let’s go,” The pair headed out side by side, the baby still sobbing against Louis’ chest. One thing was certain: they would keep Juliet safe. No matter what.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #clouis #twdg juliet #fanfic

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luminecho · 3 years

Text

Show Me What You’re Proud Of

RULES: It’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

@sister-dear did this and tagged all their mutuals who create things! Took me a moment before the realization hit me that, oh shit, I’m a mutual who creates things. Sooo here we go! Super nervous for some reason jdkjkqwdm.

I haven’t posted a lot of stuff publicly, let alone actually made things in general, and as far as writing goes I don’t have anything finished yet, but I used this opportunity to create a new art & writing blog (@echoing-creations) so I can hopefully start posting some WIPs and short snippets of stuff there from now on! ^^ Otherwise, I’m just gonna try my best to show what I have.

WRITING:

Again, I don’t really have anything posted or even finished yet (at least that I’m proud of). But I’ll share two WIPs/sneak peeks of the LU longfic that I’ve been working on these past couple of months. Because I’m pretty proud of some of the scenes that I have written so far! Unfortunately I’m limited in my choice of what I can include, because spoilers, but here’s what I’ve got. (They’re still very subject to change.)

- “Everything Goes Away” - Prologue

He was in control now. Not some selfish deity or petty goddess. For once, his destiny didn’t have to be set in stone. He could rewrite his story, re-weave the strings of fate. And it all started with a single thread.

Forgive me.

- EGA - Chapter 3

A cacophony of sound broke out around them as the other heroes’ reactions grew muddled together and incoherent. All the while, Legend and Warriors didn’t move, didn’t blink. The world was a swirling vortex of noise around them, a raging whirlwind of confusion and betrayal, and the two heroes stood in the center of it all, the eye of a hurricane, frozen in time. Frantic colors and voices spun around them like a cyclone in motion, tasting of forgotten courage and broken promises.

But all storms came to an end. As the tempest of sound and color died down into a suffocating silence and the world stopped spinning and lulled to a halt, a single whisper rang out louder than a gunshot, piercing the air and finally forcing Legend to break eye contact with Warriors.

“Why?”

ART:

- BotW Link - Wow, the only thing on this list that I actually have a link for! This post never kicked off, which kinda sucks, because I can’t even begin to describe how ridiculously proud of it I was (and still am). It took me ages and I put in so much more effort than I thought I would going into it. But I don’t really mind that nobody saw it, because I love it and that’s all that matters! It was all a big experiment (particularly with drawing humans) but I’m very happy with the outcome :)

Ummm I’m not really that proud of anything else I’ve posted, and there’s a lot of stuff I’ve drawn that I’m not ready to share with people yet cause I’m kinda self conscious, BUT I do have a couple of drawings that I still really like!

- First one is a ref for a Warrior Cats OC that I’ve had for... ah, almost as long as I’ve been drawing, actually. She’s a favorite between my and my irl friend, and she’s gone through so many redesigns I can’t even keep track, lol. This is definitely my favorite design of her by far, though, and is probably gonna stick for quite a while.

- Second one is just a random doodle of my catsona. Honestly not much to say about it. It was done for my part of an animation meme collab for a friend’s birthday a while back, and I kept the drawing because I really liked how it turned out. I honestly kind of want to redraw it soon with an updated version of my sona’s design and use it as my tumblr icon? Maybe? 👀 I’ve been wanting draw my own banner for a while now, so maybe this can be part of my blog makeover, lol.

And that’s that! Not much, I know. I spent all evening trying to pull together scraps of stuff I could maybe share, but chickened out of showing most of it in the end. I’m kind of shocked at how little I actually created this year. I feel like my art has been at an all time low recently. I just haven’t really been drawing as much. Hopefully giving myself time and distance from it will help me to gather the motivation to pick it up again soon and be able to look at it without judging myself too harshly. As for my writing... I’ve definitely written more frequently this year than I have for a long time, even if I have nothing to show for it. I’ve been finding myself using my writing as an outlet a lot more recently than I did in the past, and I’ve been getting better at writing things down rather than just daydreaming them and letting the scenes float away into the void of my mind, lol.

Tagging all of my own mutuals (and followers!) who are creators!! Share what you’re proud of, even if it’s small <3

#I’m so nervous posting this for whatever reason??? lmao #but i want to #this was kinda fun going back and reflecting on what I’ve made though #even if there’s not much #I’m an art baby lmao #I’ve been drawing my whole life but only started getting serious about it around 5 years ago...? ish? not even #i’ve loved writing for so long i can’t even remember but before this year i didn’t really practice all that often #so my improvement has been slow #but hey. it’s something #everything is a learning experience and I’m sure I’ll have improved twice as much by the end of this year!#//#long post #echo draws #echo writes #tag meme #i mean technically i wasn’t tagged #i was but i wasn’t #you know what i mean

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kazdoesntknow · 4 years

Photo

sorry for the stickers and lines in the latter image of leo, it’s the original one from before i got my sketchbook.

i ended up changing leo’s face. his right eye is burned, as well as his shoulder, and he’s blind in his right eye.

he wears goggles now- lightly based off of steampunk goggles. they read thermals, as well as zoom in and out. he’s also the only turtle who still has their mystic weapon- april still has hers.

leo’s really been through things. at his current age of twenty-one, he’s the leader of the team. though at sixteen, when he and his brothers went to fight draxum and most of the foot clan, he realized they were being overrun and he surrendered as a distraction so his brothers would be able to escape. he ended up being tortured over the next two years, as well as experimented on, but he eventually escaped and returned home, where he’s now planning on how to take his world back from the yokai, establish equality, and throw big mama and draxum away for their crimes, seeing as those two released shredder and made sure everyone else was shoved underground as the yokai had been.

he’s quieter now, and less quick to joke, and matured a lot faster than he should have. but somewhere in that heart of his, he’s still the same leon. he’s just struggling with how to express it.

he has a lot of mental disorders due to everything that has happened.

again, sorry for the stickers and stuff. that’ll go for just about everyone else,,,,

so this is raph. probably not the best drawn, i’ll redraw him soon, i promise that much. but anyway, as you can see, he’s got a few scars, and where leo has teal eyes, raph has green. ( aka i wanted to give them eye colors, and here they are. ) he’s twenty two, and during leo’s two years away, he’d begun to think leo was dead. but he blames himself fully for leo’s disappearance, and regrets not being the one to think of surrendering first. he doesn’t have his mystic weapon, though he does use his sais. once leo returned, he passed leadership onto him, because leo was the one who showed leadership and protected them all.

raph’s still his cuddly self, though his fear of being alone has gotten stronger, and he usually sleeps in mikey’s room to avoid waking up with panic attacks. he also has a strong fear of abandonment, and is terrified his brothers will leave or get kidnapped again.

also heavily blames himself for splinter’s death, even though he wasn’t fighting shredder with miko and casey.

stickers, yada yada. you get the gist.

anyway! this is the baby, mikey. i liked the addition of a bandana, so i threw it on him. he’s the youngest at age 20. upon leo disappearing, he chose to neglect the new way of life and pretend that nothing’s changed. upon leo’s return, though, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. he couldn’t seem to comfort leo. but mikey tried his best anyway.

during leo’s time in captivity, mikey was constantly with raph, bonding more heavily with his elder brother, due to donnie being more in his lab to deal with his own problems. mikey still loves to paint, and he simply wishes he could see sunlight again. he often plays video games with raph and does quite a bit of art- the lair is covered in his art, whether it be on canvases or walls. he chats about everything he wants to do.

he probably took draxum’s betrayal the hardest, seeing as he was the one the most supportive of draxum’s redemption. he wanted his two dads, and now, sadly, he has none.

and this is donatello, the last, but definitely not the least, of the turtles.

he fully blames himself for the abduction of his twin. fighting draxum was also very difficult for him, because his battle shell was torn apart ( again ) and he was carried home due to the wounds on his face and on his shell. he ends up cutting off his right arm for what he claims to be self improvement, though there is an underlying truth no one’s managed to dig out yet. he woud have cut off his other upon leo’s return, but leo had stopped him from doing that.

still a tech guy, he tends to isolate himself in his lab, save for whenever miko decides she wants to waltz in there like she owns the place. he doesn’t find her much of a bother because she’s usually pretty quiet. he’s still sarcastic and sassy, but he is very angry and defensive, and forgets to eat and sleep. he, though he would never admit it, probably missed leo the most because of their twin bond.

he has pilot goggles now, which is pretty neat, i think. they’re modified by the mystic crystals, though, so they work the same as his old ones did.

this is casey jones, age 22. living,,, somewhat his best life.

he met the turtles when he was fifteen, while he was out being a bit,,, crazy on the streets and doing his vigilante thing. he’s played hockey since middle school, and absolutely loves it. he’s learned hand to hand combat, and at school, he’s close friends with april o’neil. though at first, he had no idea she knew about the turtles until she went to introduce him to them, and... well, it just hit him. he was like “hey, i know those guys!”

he went with miko and splinter to help in stopping the shredder, and feels pretty sad about splinter dying, so he does the usual thing: vigilante shit. he fights off yokai who are harming humans or mutants, with the help of april and mayehm. he has hockey sticks, golf clubs, and baseball bats.

overall, casey’s a fun guy to hang out with. currently, he’s working on building up a resistance group to fight back, with leo’s strict instruction. in previous years, he was doing it on his own accord.

APRIL O’NEIL! age 21.

she’s pretty neat. has a scar on her chin that actually isn’t from fighting- her and casey were fucking around on the skateboard ramp in the lair and she fell and,,, chin scar. her jacket is immortal. her glasses are broke, though, and she had to tape them together, but she’s not too mad about it. in fact, she’s not too mad about anything.

she fought big mama with lavi, and though they lost, they managed to escape, and april still has her mystic bat. she snatched that up real fast when she bolted. she ended up forced underground, and she hangs out with her mom sometimes, and tries to hang out with casey vigilanting, and occassionally bugs donnie in his lab, or tries to help lavi pull the family back together- not to much avail.

she’s smart, and funny, and sassy. she’s the same as she was when she was younger, but she’s also gotten to be more independent and strong. she’s very confident, and though she’s been through a lot, she has a firm belief that they’ll win soon enough.

this is hizashi mikoto, an oc.

she’s a small. age 21. she’s formerly a business CEO, despite her young age, and graduated from MIT at the age of 15. she was raised in japan until she was twelve years old, and upon the death of her father and sister, she ended up moving to america with her mom. when she turned fifteen, her mom ended up dying as well to a foot clan attack. her relationship with her mom wasn’t the best- her ninja mother was fascinated with science, especially mutations, and inserted tiny bits of chameleon dna into her daughter through spars with swords. miko’s now partially chameleon. she met the boys by literally falling in on them. chasing down a few criminals vigilanting, she ended up falling into their lair and spraining their wrist when she was fourteen years old.

she fought the shredder with casey and splinter, and heavily blames herself for splinter’s death. she’s in love with technology and science, having of built a company off a computer chip she developed when she was twelve years old. so her favorite spot in the lair is in donnie’s lab. but she also likes to spar, and write on occassion, and is sometimes found watching tv with mikey.

this is lavi, the last oc.

gunslinger. she was born in watertown, new york, where her mother had abandoned her before her father found her and her little brothers in their home, but spent most of her life in maine, until conflict caused her to move away from her family and live with her mémé ( great grandmother ) up in new york. wanting to be a police detective and invest her time in chasing down cases at the age of fourteen, she ran around in a deep search for something to do, something to solve, and one of those days, she found leo. and literally just peppered him with questions about where she could go to find some cases to solve. and then they started being friends because “finding cases” turned into “spa day in the hidden city.”

after leo’s disappearance, she ended up searching for the turtle with donnie. the two were relentless in their searching, but two years later, they ended up finding him because he had broken himself out. she tries her best to comfort him as she had the rest of the turtles and their friends.

often passes out in a pile of pillows. leo usually throws a fluffy blanket over her.

but yeah! those are the main characters,,,, lemme know what you think!

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt april #rottmnt ocs #rottmnt casey #rottmnt casey jones #cityfall au

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Thirty-Seven: Red Lines ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: At The Beginning ] [ AO3 Link ]

They’ve been traveling all day.

With tired feet, Sasuke’s up on his brother’s back, dozing as his clan migrates south. Quick and quiet. Hopefully unseen. Such a large force, of course, isn’t hard to notice...but most of them are shinobi. Hopping through the branches of this landscape’s tall trees, they’re swift and silent as they make their way from their last encampment.

After the battle days prior...it’s no longer safe.

So, once again, the Uchiha are on the move.

Nearing evening, they finally find a place to settle for the night. A rolling hill comes to an abrupt stop, dropping into an inwardly-curved cliff. Below, a shallow pool of fresh water from a natural spring feeds out into a stream.

Fugaku considers the area, kinsmen watching him wordlessly. “...here. Fill your water skins, and put down bedrolls in the cave.”

Hopefully anyone after them will miss such a spot.

Rousing as subtle noises sound with the setup of camp, Sasuke rubs at his eyes. “Aniki…?”

Itachi manages a weary smile as he sets his brother down. “We’re calling it a night. Hungry? Thirsty?”

The young Uchiha just nods, prompting Itachi to begin caring for his needs. A waterskin is handed over, Sasuke sipping it as his brother tends to their section of the camp. Their mother is busy checking on the other vulnerable members of the clan: the young, old, sick, and injured. Fugaku, on the other hand, talks lowly with his top warriors, faces all drawn with tension and unease.

Sasuke watches before Itachi draws his gaze again. “Here - eat this.”

Accepting a nori-wrapped onigiri, Sasuke carefully munches every grain of rice before sitting beside his brother. Their bedrolls are toward the rear of the shallow cave. Any assailants would have to go through everyone else first to get to them.

“Aniki, is this our new home?”

“For now,” Itachi replies evasively. “You know we have to move often as the Senju battle us.”

Sasuke’s head bows. “I know…”

“Someday, Sasuke...we’ll have a real home. A house, with a roof and a floor, and walls. We can start a garden, and maybe get you a dog.”

That perks the boy up. “Really?”

“...someday.”

It’s late before their parents return, Sasuke already asleep. Itachi watches his father with sharp black eyes as he unfurls a map.

“...here,” he murmurs, a calloused finger pointing to a dense cluster of foliage marked on the parchment. “This is our current position.” His mouth sets into a grim line. “...we’re not as far as I’d like, but this place is hard to spot from a distance from the direction we came. Gods willing, we’ll be lucky and go unnoticed for now.”

“Where will we go next?” the elder son asks quietly

“I’ve got scouts out checking our perimeter, and seeing what other clans might be nearby. I’ll plot out their positions come morning, and...we’ll go from there.”

Itachi just nods solemnly.

“Itachi dear, you should get some sleep,” Mikoto chides gently. “We’ll have a long day ahead of us. And you’ll need to keep both eyes on your brother.”

“Hai.”

Curling around his little brother, Itachi watches him for a time before managing to slip into sleep.

Morning, as always, comes early. And it’s Sasuke who rouses first for once. Wriggling out of his sleeping brother’s grip, he finds Fugaku already awake. Seated with a map atop his lap, he’s carefully tracing lines atop it, referring quite heavily to other parchment at his side. A glance shows reports from the previous night’s scouts. Red ink outlines certain sections of the map.

Gingerly sitting beside his father, Sasuke builds the courage to ask, “What are those red lines…?”

Giving Sasuke a glance, Fugaku takes a moment to respond, finishing a line. “These...are marks that show me where our enemies are camped. None of us are to go there, Sasuke.”

“Not even you?”

“No, not even me. We must work our way around them, lest we invite more fighting.”

“Are they Senju…?” he asks quietly, both fear and awe in his tone.

“No. There are many more clans than just us, and the Senju,” Fugaku clarifies. “The Inuzuka, Akimichi, Nara, Hyūga, Sarutobi...and more.”

“Are they all bad guys?”

After a small hitch of breath, his father sighs. “...no. There really is no good or bad when it comes to clans, my son. We are all simply competing for the same things. Food, water, land...and competition can make people do terrible things in order to secure those things. Even kill.”

Sasuke wilts a bit. “Oh…”

“Someday...I hope we will find a land to call our own, with no more fighting.” There’s a bone-deep exhaustion in Fugaku’s eyes. “...I tire of losing our people to these squabbles. Someday...I hope there will be peace.”

Someday, someday...it’s a word everyone uses so often. But when will it be someday, Sasuke can’t help but wonder.

“So, be sure to stick close to camp,” Fugaku then adds, drawing his son’s gaze back to his face. “We don’t want to wander and stumble into trouble. Understand?”

“Hai.”

The Uchiha linger in their encampment for nearly a week. By then, Sasuke has the entire layout memorized, including the outlying areas where he barely dares to tread. His father’s words have made him cautious.

But even caution can’t be outweighed by a child’s curiosity.

Having been learning to use a bow with his brother, Sasuke keeps his and a quiver on his person whenever he’s awake. He also carries a single kunai for protection, but he’s too young yet to make much use of many standard shinobi tools. Instead, he relies mostly on his brother to keep him safe. But Itachi has been busy helping their father, and Sasuke patrols the camp alone.

That is...until he hears a noise in the bushes…!

Perking up, he stares, trying to spot whatever it is. Likely just a tanuki, or maybe some birds. But, wanting to be sure, Sasuke glances back to camp before carefully moving after it.

...there it goes! Wriggling through the underbrush, whatever it is takes off at full speed!

Immediately losing all other thought to the thrill of a chase, Sasuke brightens and goes after it. Back and forth it winds - maybe it’s a hare? - as they leave the Uchiha in the distance. Arrow nocked and eyes bright, Sasuke follows until they reach a clearing, and his foe stumbles out into the open.

A fox!

Pulling up his bow and drawing the string, Sasuke takes aim. But before he can shoot, a rock flies out from another side of the clearing, startling the winded creature into one last dash into more cover.

“Aww…!” Releasing the tension and pouting, Sasuke watches it go, realizing it’s a futile chase. But then he happens to think...who - or what - threw that rock…?

Looking to the proper direction, he sets his jaw, redrawing his bow. “Who’s there?”

Silence. Then a rustle. “P-please...don’t shoot…!”

A voice! It sounds like a girl - pretty young, too. Maybe his age? “Show yourself!”

Another long pause, then the foliage shifts, and...out creeps a child. Dressed in a plain lilac yukata, large pale eyes stare warily, hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I...I don’t m-mean you any harm!”

Slowly, Sasuke lowers his bow. Those eyes...he knows about them. His own clan’s distant cousins: she has to be a Hyūga.

Seeing him relax, she does the same. “I...I’m sorry about the fox, but...I didn’t want you to hurt it.”

“...s’okay,” Sasuke mumbles. He didn’t need to kill it - they have plenty of supplies. These woods are plentiful.

“Um...m-my name is Hinata! Who are - w-who are you?”

“...Sasuke.” They both avoid last names, though there’s little mistaking what she is by her appearance. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh...I was l-looking for...for flowers.”

“Flowers…?” His nose wrinkles. “Isn’t that a silly thing to wander off alone for?”

“W-well, you were chasing a fox!”

“Cuz I thought it was a bad guy too close to our camp!”

As soon as he says it, Sasuke realizes that was a mistake. He shouldn’t reveal that they’re nearby…!

“Oh...that’s fair.”

“You...you can’t tell anyone you saw me!” he insists.

Hinata balks. “I-I won’t!”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise!”

He eyes her for a moment, seeing her frightened posture. “...good.”

Silence falls for a time...and then a voice calls in the distance. “Hinata-sama!”

Gasping and looking back, she hesitates. “I...I-I have to go!”

“But -?”

“I won’t tell!” Digging through the bushes, Hinata brings out a small basket full of blooms. “Go, before someone s-sees you!”

Sasuke lingers a moment longer, not sure he can trust her. But she’s already making to jog back the way she came.

Before she leaves, however, she comes to a stop, turning and closing the gap even as Sasuke flinches. “Here!”

Fumbling, he manages to accept a flower. Pure white in color, it’s one he’s never seen before...not that he’s ever paid flowers any attention.

“Go!” Hinata hushes, retreating and calling out to the voice.

Broken from his confusion, Sasuke does just that, running all the way back to camp.

Slowing to a jog, he glances around, hoping no one notices his return. Thankfully no one notes his presence...or the previous lack thereof. Making his way to his bedroll, Sasuke examines his flower, a brow perked. Why did she give him a flower…?

“Oh, where did you find that?”

Flinching, Sasuke turns to see his mother. “...uh…”

“That’s a freesia,” Mikoto explains, kneeling beside her son. “It’s a flower that signifies trust!”

“A flower has a meaning…?”

“Oh, yes...it’s a very important language,” she replies. “Flowers are a way to communicate without words. Kunoichi use them to pass messages without others knowing!”

Considering that, Sasuke looks to his flower. Trust, huh…?

“Now, go wash up, ne? Dinner is almost ready. Your father and brother should be back soon.”

“Hai.” Removing his gear, Sasuke eventually tucks the bloom into his bedroll.

Maybe he’ll see her again someday...Hyūga Hinata.

Late, tired, blegh @~@ A Warring States era AU! One I hardly ever get to write. I really like the concept of the more "modern" characters being put back into that time period, and how they'd face the challenges of that era. Buuut anyway, I'm VERY tired, so...that's all for now lol - thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha itachi #uchiha fugaku #uchiha mikoto #at the beginning [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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mazurah · 6 years

Text

Journal of a Buoyant Armiger in Valenwood

First - Previous - Next

16th of Midyear

I can hardly believe it, I'm back in Tamriel! And it’s only been a week since I was captured in Mournhold! I don’t know how that’s possible, because I was imprisoned in Coldharbour for nigh on six weeks if my count of the days is accurate. I asked for paper as soon as I could. I don’t want to forget the faces of the people who helped Fayrl and I return to Nirn.

There was a prison riot. A tall Nord woman named Lyris broke me and Fayrl out of our cells, along with every other prisoner being held with us. We were contacted by the spectral projection of an Imperial mage who calls himself the Prophet. He promised us he could help us escape Oblivion if we set him free. His promise was good, but the security on his prison was such that Lyris had to sacrifice herself to free him. She was the only one who still retained her soul, and the only one who could activate the wards on the spell holding him. Her sacrifice means all of us were able to escape.

We couldn’t get to the Prophet’s cell at first. The Lord of Domination locked the gate to where he was being held, but Lyris directed to us to a man who I would hesitantly venture is as close to a local as a mortal can be in Coldharbour. He was quite the character. He called himself Sir Cadwell, and he appeared to be quite insane, but apparently benignly so. He was able to give us directions to another route to the Prophet’s cell. Yet another person we owe our lives to.

We escaped through a Dark Anchor. I’d never seen one before. Molag Bal did not let us escape without resistance; we had to fight an undead bone construct to get to the Anchor, but several members of our party turned out to be much more skilled at combat than I had expected, most notably Fayrl. I’ve never seen the spells Fayrl was using before. He summoned two shadow copies of himself to fight the bone creature alongside him. I’ll have to ask him where he learned such a skill.

Oh! And neither of us are Soul Shriven anymore! Well, we have not recovered our souls, but we no longer have the pallid skin and sunken white eyes that we had, and I certainly feel much more whole than I did before. The Prophet said we had to “re-attune ourselves to Nirn” and summoned a skyshard of all things to do it. I’ve only ever seen the things used as fancy (and quite frankly rare and overly expensive) alternatives to soul gems and magicka potions. He mentioned that they contained some kind of Lorkhanic energy that was required to exist in Nirn, which is a bit ironic considering that he also said they were shards of magicka fallen directly from Aetherius. How ironic it is that I, descendant of the Chimer, child of Veloth, AE ALTADOON GHARTOK PHADHOME CHIM, would find solace and preservation in a shard of pure Anuic power.

Fayrl and I were dumped into a lake after we went through the portal back to Nirn together, and a Bosmer by the name of Rialas (an acquaintance of Fayrl’s I think?) fished us out and took us back to someplace that I can only really describe as a glorified whorehouse. The Den, as they call it, is an interesting place. It merely confirms my suspicion that Fayrl is indeed a prostitute by trade. When we arrived, we were ushered into what appeared to be a tavern combined with an eatery and a burlesque theater. The music and lights and dancing and chattering and cheering and bustling and clinking of cutlery and scents of perfumes and alcohol and cooking was all a bit overwhelming. A Khajiit rushed forward to greet us and dressed both me and Fayrl in strange new clothes and gave us food. Food! I’ve spent so long on the brink of starvation that I couldn’t recognize the sensation of being full and nearly ate myself sick.

Also Fayrl has a husband? He never mentioned him before. He said he was engaged to a Bosmer, and then he mentioned having a husband, so I assume that his husband is Bosmer, but I don’t know. We were in a bit of a rush.

There were so many introductions, and I was so overwhelmed that I think I’m going to have to ask them all to be repeated again in the morning. I’ve retreated to the room they’ve given me now and laid out all my old journal entries and drawings to dry after our dunk in the lake. I’m worried that some of them might not be salvageable, but I shall do my best to reconstruct all the pictures even if it means I have to redraw them.

I think… I might be in Valenwood. I’ve never seen trees this big before. It was a bit dark, so I couldn’t really tell what was around me, but I had the impression of trees with trunks as large as houses. I’ll have to take a look around in the morning. Right now, that bed is too tempting to avoid any longer.

Fayrl’s Corresponding Entry Qau-dar’s Corresponding Entry

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lunarsaga · 3 years

Text

EPISODE 4: A Secret Long Kept

WARNING: THE ART IN THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN BLOOD (as well as an artistic interpretation of demonic possession. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.

As a side note, the art in this chapter might be a little mismatched, as it was kind of put together from a couple tiny scenes. (and I didn't wanna redraw/color all of it ^^;) HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR LUNA'S TRAGIC BACKSTORY!! ENJOYYY~

Chapter 5 is already up on my Patreon! Hopefully I'll finish Chapter 6 soon, but my patrons will see it first!

The nightmares were over. Kagome, Miroku, Sango and Shippo were able to overcome Garamaru’s cocoons, and the nightmares he tried to trap them in, and it was all thanks to Inuyasha. As they gathered together, they watched as the Forest of Sorrow disappeared around them.

“Is everyone okay?” Kagome asked as she joined back up with the rest of them.

“We’re all fine now,” Sango answered, but… she was a little unsure. She glanced to the side, and Kagome followed her gaze to her sister, who was standing apart from the rest of them.

“Luna?” Kagome called to her. “You okay?”

“She seems rather distressed by what she saw,” Miroku said.

“I wonder what it was…” Sango uttered.

"I hope she's okay..." Shippo worried.

“Tche,” Inuyasha scoffed. “It’s not like it matters.”

For a second, Luna didn’t answer; she barely registered Kagome and her friends talking behind her. With her back turned to the rest of them, she was zoned out. Hazel-brown eyes stared blankly at the beat up little polaroid photograph in her hand, but her gaze was thousands of miles away, and hundreds of years in the future.

It may as well have been a relic from a different time. In the photo were two blissfully happy teenagers. One, a girl with fluffy black hair that fell in waves just above her shoulders. The other was a boy with strawberry-blonde hair, eyes so blue the sea would be jealous of their sparkle, and cheeks sprayed with freckles. He held the girl in his arms, grinning as his lips hovered close to her temple, ready to press a kiss there.

Kagome turned to Inuyasha, chastising: “Inuyasha! Why would you say that?!”

Defensively, Inuyasha’s volume only increased. “What?! You all had nightmares, if she doesn’t wanna talk about it, then it ain’t our business anyway!”

He's right, the little voice inside Luna's head whispered. It doesn't matter. It's not their burden to bear. Only yours. A burden you'll carry until the day you die...

"I love you, Lu."

You shouldn't have.

"I'll follow you anywhere."

You shouldn't have.

"I trust you... You can do this."

No, I couldn't. And now...

Worried about her sister’s lack of a response, Kagome went over to her, reaching for her shoulder. “Luna…?”

As she heard her sister step up behind her, Luna quickly hid the photo in the pocket of her flannel shirt. “I’m fine, you guys,” She said, loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Don’t worry about it.” She felt a single, solitary tear sliding down her face, and quickly wiped it as she turned back around.

“You’re my sister, Luna,” Kagome said softly, “I’ll always worry about you.”

“I promise it’s fine. Not like I’ve never had nightmares like that before.” Blinking back more tears, she patted her sister on the back and moved back toward the group. “Anyone else ready to get the hell outta here?”

“Forgive me, Luna, but you look like you were crying just now.” Miroku said.

“Must be allergies,” Luna quickly lied, “Never took well to insects, and that cocoon was nasty.”

“No surprise there,” Inuyasha, dense as ever, turned and started leading them away. “C’mon! We can’t waste time going after Naraku.”

Kagome hesitated, then reached out to grab her sister’s hand, holding her back. “Luna, you know you can talk to me, right? You’d tell me if something was bothering you?”

Luna didn’t look at her. “It was just a bad dream, Kags. I have a lot of them—kinda comes with the job.”

Kagome didn’t believe her, but she didn’t have a choice other than to let it go. One of these days, you’ll have to open up, Luna. And I promise I’ll be there for you when you do.

~~~

Luna wasn’t sure where exactly she took a wrong turn, but here she was in the middle of the damn forest, with no way to tell which way was up.

The others had stopped to make camp for the night, but Luna couldn’t get that nightmare out of her head, so she told them she was gonna take a walk to shake it off. It was just a memory, one that played in her head so often she should be used to it by now, but… something was different about it this time.

In all the similar nightmares she’d had before, usually, she had no hands. No mouth. No voice. When she moved, it was like she was moving through jell-o. She saw him—those sea-blue eyes and hair like strawberry honey, freckles like constellations and a smile from Heaven itself—saw him say the things he’d said back then:

“I love you,” He whispered, holding her close as the night sky above them exploded with fireworks. She saw the trails sparkle in his eyes just before he leaned in and they shared their first kiss.

Then, it was months later, as the autumn leaves crunched under her boots and her shotgun felt heavier in her hand. But even as she revealed her secret life—one of monsters and magic and danger—he was unwavering. Resolute. “I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said as he took her hand.

The last part… she couldn’t bear to think about, but this was what changed the most with her new nightmare.

Usually, she just saw him offering her encouragement, even though he was the one bleeding from his eyes: “I trust you… you can do this.” Then, she would scream, but no sound would come out, she’d spiral down into darkness and wake in a cold sweat.

But this time, it was different.

After he’d pledged to follow her anywhere, she was taken back to the place it all ended—a little overgrown shack, hidden out in the woods about half a mile from her house. It was their special place; a secret clubhouse of sorts. Polaroids hung on a string on the wall, and the small tree growing in the corner bore their initials: L.H. + J.D.. Shadows danced on the walls, and she couldn’t see more than three or four feet in every direction.

In her previous dreams, she could never speak or move like she could in the waking world, but this time, she felt almost fully conscious. She stood where she always had, facing him down—the same man. The one she fell in love with.

But it wasn’t him.

His sea-blue eyes had been completely overtaken by pitch black. His hands had been too, like they were made of pure shadow; shadow that curled down his forearms. His teeth were just as she remembered; stained red from choking on his own blood.

“You did this.” It wasn’t his voice. It was the creature that had taken him. “You killed him, little moonchild.”

She couldn’t argue. Her voice would work if she tried, but… even then, as she faced down the most lucid dream she’d had since the incident… she couldn’t speak.

“Nothing to say?” The demon taunted. “The eldest of the Mighty Higurashi family has nothing to say?”

“Shut up!” She’d finally said. She could feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks, but this had still been a dream. They floated around her like there was no gravity. “Is that all you have to say?!”

The demon seemed a little surprised of her response, so she kept going:

“I know! I fucked up! I brought him into a world he should never have been a part of, and I never should have in the first place! I put him in danger and I am the reason why he got killed!” The tears flowed freely, and even within the dream, she could feel her body shake with anger. “You can’t do shit to me, you greasy little fuck—anything you think you can say to me is shit I’ve already said to myself! You can’t hurt me!”

Maybe that was what shattered the dream; she didn’t remember anything after that. But that was never something she would share with anyone else.

No one else had to know about Jack. She was going to take her damning mistake to the grave.

And… now she was lost. Again.

“I gotta find a way to make a medieval GPS tracker or some shit…” she grumbled, cursing herself for having forgotten her compass in her backpack.

But then came a voice, one she recognized.

“Miss Luna!”

Around the bend of a large tree sat the little girl she’d helped out her first night in the Feudal Era; Rin. It’d been, what? A week or two since? And no sign of “Lord Sesshomaru”.

“Hey kid, you get left behind again?”

“This woman again?” That was the little imp Jaken; the somewhat irritating second hand to Rin’s guardian. Luna merely arched an eyebrow at him. At least Rin wasn’t completely alone.

“It’s okay!” Rin assured her, “Lord Sesshomaru will be back! Come and sit with us, I’m glad to see you again!”

“Don’t just invite random humans over!” Jaken protested.

“I don’t think your friend here agrees,” Luna chuckled.

“Don’t worry about Master Jaken!” Rin giggled, much to the chagrin of the tiny demon. “I would like to know more about you!”

Luna glanced away, hazel eyes locked in a thousand-yard stare. “...more about me, huh?”

“Yes,” the little girl nodded. “The last time we met, you said you were Miss Kagome’s older sister… are you a priestess like her?”

Luna chewed her lip, not sure how to answer. Pretty sure I don’t have powers like her... “I don’t think so. I’m more of… a demon slayer, I guess?”

That was only the first of many questions the little girl had for her. Why did she dress so strange? Where was she from? What was it like? Were there demons there too? Luna could barely keep up with answering all these questions.

“You talk way too much, Rin!” Jaken barked at one point. Luna watched the smile on Rin’s face falter, and glared at the little demon. “Hey, leave her be. I don’t mind.” She turned back to Rin, nudging her shoulder. “Why not tell me about you now, huh? How long have you been traveling with these two?”

When Luna had first met Rin, she had no idea that the “Lord Sesshomaru” the girl wanted to return to was actually Inuyasha’s cold, murderous older half-brother Kagome had described. Imagine her confusion when she had to reconcile the “evil, human-hating demon” with the guy this little girl trailed along behind so faithfully.

“Just a little while now!” Rin answered, “But it’s better than living around humans!”

Luna laughed. “You got that right… any reason why?”

“Well… I was alone… My family…” Rin’s face fell—the poor girl looked almost hollowly into the fire, hugging her knees to her chest as she recounted her past: “My parents and brothers… They were killed by bandits, then… after being on my own a while, I was attacked by wolves…”

There wasn’t a full moment of quiet before she perked back up again, grinning at Luna. “But Lord Sesshomaru saved me! And I’ve traveled with him and Master Jaken ever since! That’s why I don’t want to live with humans… humans are awful...”

Luna shrugged, sympathetic. “They can be, yeah. But you feel safe with these two, right?”

Rin nodded, grinning still. “Yes!”

“That’s the most important part.” She reached forward to ruffle the girl’s hair. “I was practically raised by a cat demon, you know.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. She’s protected my father’s family for three generations now—and she is hands down my best friend.”

“I don’t think I have a best friend…” Rin turned to Jaken, “Master Jaken, are we friends?”

“What?!” The little demon shouted, “No way! Why would a demon like me be friends with a human brat like you?!”

“Miss Luna’s best friend is a demon!” The girl pouted, and Luna swore she felt her heart melt.

“I’ll be your friend, kid.” She offered.

Seeing the little angel’s face light up like it did was absolutely everything. “Really?!”

“Yeah, really.” Suddenly, Luna got a weird little feeling in her gut. Like a disturbance in the Force, she joked to herself. Maybe it was just… the start of something bigger, something she wouldn’t know the full consequences of until much later.

“Actually…” She mumbled to herself. The gears turned in her head a little, and she turned back to look at Rin again. “You just gave me an idea.”

#oc #inuyasha oc #inuyasha fanart #inuyasha #inuyasha rin #the lunar saga #fanfic #my art

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elesianne · 6 years

Text

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter fourteen

Chapter summary: Carnistir is stressed, and the meeting for tea goes awry.

Story summary: Sometimes your heart chooses for you before you even know there is a choice to make, and then all that can be done is find out whether love can build bridges across differences and fears. This is my story of how Caranthir comes to be married, with Caranthir’s family members alternately helping and hindering his attempts at courting.

Rating: Teen and up audiences; Chapter length: ~5,600 words

Tag-type thingies for the whole story: years of the trees, romance, falling in love, family, courtship, anger management issues, the Noldor, the Vanyar, some fluff and some angst, happy ending

Chapter notes: Rowan/@acommonanomaly did three wonderful portraits of Tuilindien a while ago, please check them out if you haven’t yet! I gave descriptions of Tuilë's looks to Rowan but they drew her so much better than I was able to even imagine.

I think it's best to remind you guys of some tags that have been there since the beginning but are most relevant for this chapter and the next two: the 'anger management issues' and 'angst' tags. But to reassure anyone who might be worried, I have now added a 'happy ending' tag, because that was always going to happen and still is.

See end note for a mild warning.

(Also posted on AO3 etc.)

Chapter XIV // Lapses of judgement

There is an odd sense of weightlessness that surrounds Carnistir as he makes his way home along the familiar streets. A small part of his mind is by necessity concentrated on keeping Varnë from stomping or champing on anyone, but the rest is still in the glade filled with dappled golden light and the rush of water and the sensation of Tuilindien in his arms, her lips on his, her scent in his nose, their emotions and sensations mixing and being amplified between them.

He had felt so at peace, even while his blood ran hot and he wanted to hold on to her ever tighter.

Some of that peace remains while he tends to Varnë at the stables at home, giving her a thorough brushing for behaving well or at least not embarrassing him thoroughly, going as far as to feed her a few apples as a reward. His bad-tempered horse has mellowed somewhat over the years but Carnistir believes that constant reinforcement of good behaviour should be continued.

(He doesn't like to think of all the times his parents must have used the same method on him.)

When he's going to his room to wash and change, the last of the pleasant golden haze in his mind is dispersed when he sees Curufinwë step out of the room next to his. Carnistir tenses and remembers all the times, when they were both easily irritable adolescents, he demanded his parents that he be given be a bedchamber farther away from Curufinwë's. Fëanáro told him that he should consider his brothers allies rather than squabble with them, which Carnistir later realised was deeply hypocritical of him and anyway, Curvo has always made that difficult.

And still likes to do so, apparently, for he leans against the wall and smirks far too widely at Carnistir. 'I see your afternoon with your Vanya went well', he observes. 'I heard you humming from around the corner.'

'I see you have nothing to do but lurk around the house uselessly', Carnistir snaps back. 'And call Tuilë by her name, if you must speak of her. Even father calls her Ingolmiel now.'

'And grimaces every time he does.' As so often, Carnistir's attempts at sharp words have failed to wipe the smug grin off Curufinwë's face. Curufinwë continues, 'I must say, you are a most peculiar kind of lover, Moryo: you would have no talk of your sweetheart – of Ingolmiel', he corrects hastily when Carnistir looks at him threateningly and steps closer. He keeps going, though. 'I was a child when Makalaurë fell for Tinweriel, but even I grew bored of him talking about her all the time. Then again, you've never been the best with words.'

Carnistir knows he is bright red, knows his hands are clenched into fists at his sides; he doesn't know why exactly Curufinwë is doing this but he must be looking for a reaction, an explosive one.

With effort, he steps back and unclenches his fists. He opens the door to his own room and says to Curvo, 'I told you weeks ago: one day you will understand. Until then, shut your mouth about my personal affairs. You don't sound nearly as smart as you think.' He hates the wavering growl in his voice, but it is better than shouting where his mother and youngest brothers would probably hear it.

Curufinwë's smirk has grown less bright. With cheer that is so clearly false that even Carnistir can see it, he says, 'Don't be unsociable, Moryo.'

Carnistir shuts the door in his face.

Dinner is a half-miserable affair that Carnistir would rather have avoided. His mother asks about his day just as she asked about everyone else's, without pointing out the significance of his and Tuilindien's first private excursion outside of Tirion.

He tells his family very briefly, his temper already flaring in anticipation of teasing from Tyelko or Curvo, that the ride had been pleasant and Tuilindien had found the waterfall glade beautiful.

'That's nice to hear', Maitimo smiles. 'The twins have never been there, we should take them someday soon. They should be good enough riders in no time, based on their enthusiasm at least.'

The twins hasten to assure everyone that yes, of course they will. Relieved at the change of topic, Carnistir does his best to return Maitimo's smile. He feels deeply the value of his oldest brother's support, all the more when Maitimo continues to carry to conversation. Somehow he manages to keep to topics far away from courting, the visiting Vanyar and even Fëanáro's work in the forge. The last topic Carnistir would like avoid because he hasn't yet finished the designs for the improvements of said forge even though he has promised to deliver them to his father very soon.

Carnistir eats quickly and speaks little. He is good at both but unfortunately doesn't manage to escape all attention. When he rises from the table as soon as he deems it passably polite (perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't; he's never quite sure) his father speaks his name.

'Morifinwë. Will you have those plans for me tomorrow?' Fëanáro asks. 'Or have you been too busy with other things?'

Carnistir grips the ornately carved back of the chair he just rose from so hard that it hurts. 'I'll have them ready', he says curtly. Already as he leaves the room he is regretting the impulsive promise – there are many hours of planning work left, not to mention redrawing every page to make sure they look neat and well-presented enough for Fëanáro's exacting standards. He didn't stop to consider any of that though; the only thought in his mind was that his father mustn't have any reason to blame Tuilindien for him neglecting his work.

He curses his impulsiveness all the way to his room, and once he gets there he shuts the door with a bang.

Then he sits down at his desk, digs out the messy designs and wonders how he is supposed to finish them in one night. He feels like the string of a bow pulled too tight, overstretched, close to snapping. The serenity and sweetness of the waterfall glade are all gone now, and they feel hard to recapture.

That is for the best, he decides, for then the thoughts of the lovely golden hours cannot distract him. He sets to work, frowning.

He isn't certain how long has passed when there is a knock on his door, but he does know he hasn't made nearly as much progress as he wants to. He also doesn't know who is it that is knocking, but he is certain that he doesn't want company.

'Go away', he growls under his breath, keeping quiet in deference to the twins' bedtime that has surely already passed.

'I know you're awake.' Curufinwë's voice is equally quiet. 'I can see the light under your door.'

'Go away anyway.'

'Look, Carnistir, don't be an idiot. Let me in.'

Carnistir tosses his quill to the desk and goes to the door but doesn't open it. 'What do you want, Curufinwë?' Again he can feel his temper rising, and trying to control it places an ever-tightening metal band around his head, an almost-tangible thing.

'You said to father that you're going to present the forge plans to him tomorrow, but I know you don't have them ready.'

Carnistir closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the door. He is tired, and he holds on to that instead of the anger he's also feeling. 'I will have them ready tomorrow.'

'You must be planning to work all night, then –'

'Why did you come to my door, Curvo?' Carnistir snaps. 'To gloat at my mismanagement of my schedule? Or to distract me so that I surely won't have my work done by morning?'

'To help.'

Carnistir is so astonished that he finds himself opening the door. 'Really?' he asks Curufinwë. 'After mocking me and my courting for weeks, you suddenly want to help?'

'If you actually listened to what I say and didn't bristle as soon as I open my mouth, you'd know that I have mocked you much less than you think', Curufinwë snaps back. 'Now, are you going to let me in and let me do the tidying up for you?'

'Shh, it's late.' Carnistir ushers his brother into the room and closes the door behind him quietly. 'You mean you'll copy the final versions?'

'Yes.' Curufinwë crosses his arms on his chest, as if to offset his generosity by the brusque gesture. 'It's not like I can do the actual drawing, since you're the one father asked to do the designing and you're better at buildings anyway.' He scowls like he always does when admitting that someone is better at something than he is. 'But unless you've gotten sloppy recently, I know you'll want to redo the drawings and copy the notations in a neater hand. You and I always do that when we have something to present to father.'

'Yes, we do', Carnistir says, regarding Curufinwë less suspiciously as he is reminded that he and Curvo are close in this one way: they are the only ones of Fëanáro's sons, this far at least, who have chosen to make a career of pursuing the same crafts as their father. Maitimo, Makalaurë and Tyelkormo only enter the forge and workshop more rarely, and only out of a sense of filial duty.

'Fine', Carnistir says after a moment. 'I mean, thank you', he adds stiffly.

Curufinwë doesn't acknowledge the expression of gratitude. Instead he moves another chair to the desk and picks up topmost page of a stack of papers. 'This looks like the first page', he observes. 'Is it finished?'

Carnistir shakes his head to recover from the lingering astonishment at Curufinwë's behaviour. 'Yes, it is.'

'Your penmanship is atrocious', says Curufinwë, bending his head to start copying the page.

Thanks to Curufinwë's assistance, Carnistir manages to finish the forge designs and even get a little sleep, but he is hardly rested and relaxed in the morning when he drops the stack of designs at his father's place at the breakfast table.

When Fëanáro sees it he arches one elegant brow. 'I must admit, I didn't expect you to have them today, and it wasn't completely necessary either.' His countenance softens ever so slightly as he asks, 'Did you rest at all?'

'I rested enough', Carnistir says, his eyes down on his plate in the hope of hiding the pallor of his face. He knows he looks unwell, and it wouldn't matter, except – 'I am happy to go over the plans with you today, father, but I must leave for a few hours in the afternoon.'

'Ah.' Fëanáro sets the papers he's been perusing back on the table. 'I see. Another meeting with lady Ingolmiel. You hardly go a day without seeing her.'

Carnistir stabs at his food. 'We don't want to waste any time we could have together before she has to leave.' This is not a topic he likes to dwell on, for even if Tuilindien manages to stay a little longer than she was originally going to, there is still a separation ahead.

'Of course not, my dear', Nerdanel says, aiming a warning look at her husband. 'I'm sure you will have time enough to discuss your work with your father even if you meet Ingolmiel in the afternoon. After all, we have all been talking about these forge improvements for a long time and it will also take time to build them, so it is surely no great matter if you take two days instead of one to make sure that the designs are what both of you want them to be.'

Fëanáro nods, but his mouth is a thin line of almost-disapproval, and Carnistir's temper is again a thread stretched too thin, or a snake coiled up, ready and threatening to strike – all those things that are appropriate metaphors for a dangerous thing one needs to keep a watchful eye on.

His temper is stretched even tighter by the time he leaves his father's study in the early afternoon and hurries back to his room to change for his meeting with Tuilindien. He made good progress on the plans with his father, and Fëanáro thankfully refrained from making any snide comments about Tuilindien, but Carnistir still hasn't forgiven him for his earlier behaviour. Things between them are troubled and tense.

Along the way to his room he notices that his youngest brothers are doing something slightly suspicious in the garden, but he doesn't have time to investigate and decides to just pretend that he didn't see them digging up a flowerbed.

As he rummages through his wardrobe to find something suitable for a walk in a park and subsequent refreshments at a teahouse, he thinks once again of how odd it is to feel excited for something that is in itself so respectable and boring. In addition to excitement, though, he is also frustrated. He would so much prefer to go riding with Tuilindien again, as far away from the city as possible, but they don't have time for that this time.

He is roused from his thoughts by the realisation that he has thrown nearly all of his clothes on the bed and yet finds himself none the wiser as to what he'll wear. He doesn't have very many clothes suitable for these important but not formal meetings with Tuilindien. Unlike Curvo or Makalaurë, he has never paid much attention to having many nice clothes.

He settles for a dark maroon tunic with silver embroidery at the collar and sleeves that is presentable but slightly too tight at the shoulders for a few years now, and charcoal grey breeches. When he steps out of his room, in a hurry by now, he finds the Ambarussar in the corridor. They are leaning against the wall opposite his door but when they see him, they scramble to their feet.

'Where are you going, Moryo?' asks Telvo.

'I told you, he's going to see the girl again', says Pityo and shoves at his twin.

Telvo shoves back. 'You don't know that for sure. Are you going to see her, Carnistir?'

'It's none of your business if I am', says Carnistir, locking his door to make sure that curious little boys don't find their way there.

'See? I told you.' Pityo sticks his tongue out at Telvo.

Carnistir ignores the squabbling boys and walks away, but he can hear the patter of their feet on the marble floor as they follow him.

'Can we come too, Carnistir? We have had the most boring day.'

He just shakes his head without turning. They should know well enough what it means, and that it's not appropriate for them to come along with him.

The twins start listing their grievances. 'Father has been working with you, mother is working on her own, and Tyelko rode off in the morning to stay with Oromë again', Telvo says.

'And we don't know what Curvo is doing but we haven't seen him all day. Russandol is at the palace again, and we don't even have lessons', Pityo adds with a sigh.

The Ambarussar must be bored indeed if they are missing their lessons with their prim tutor. Carnistir pities them a little but not very much. After all, they at least have each other for entertainment and annoyance at all times, which is more than most children do.

'Your girl is much nicer than you are, I'm sure she wouldn't mind us coming.' Telvo, who fancies himself the more silver-tongued of the two, is trying his childish best to persuade his big brother. It would make his Carnistir smile on most days.

They are by the front door by this time, and Carnistir turns to face the boys. 'No, you can't come.'

'But –', tries Pityo, the more tenacious one.

'No, and it's final. Go pester the servants if you need more company than each other. Or don't pester the cook and he might give you biscuits.'

With this sage advice Caranthir steps out the door.

He is deep in thought all the way to the courtyard beneath the Mindon, trying to find some serenity, however little, at the thought of meeting Tuilindien, and in preparation for it. Thus this time it is she who notices him first and comes to him with swift steps rather than the other way round.

'Carnistir.' She greets him with a smile full of light and delight and offers him her hand to kiss. He does, of course, gladly, and then tucks her hand under his arm as they begin walking.

'There is a small park we haven't visited yet', he says. It is even more awkward than he'd thought it would be to have gone back to this sedate strolling along city streets, walking with her on his arm as if she needs the support, and knowing that this is the most physical contact they can hope to have with each other today.

They are far from the only members of nobility taking a walk in the heart of the city. They even pass lady Maquetimië, that irksome gossipmonger who spread the knowledge of their first meeting to everyone who would listen.

The lady greets them, and Tuilindien returns the greeting. Carnistir tightens his hold on her to ground himself in the reality of her being there, trying to keep away from the feelings of irritation and anger that this particular courtier has aroused in him since he was a child, and all the more recently.

Maquetimië tries to start a conversation, but either Tuilindien doesn't have very warm feelings towards her either or she can sense his irritation, for she politely tells Maquetimië that very regretfully, they are in a hurry and cannot stop to chat – but they will surely see again at some court function soon, she adds, because that is how she is.

'Thank you', Carnistir murmurs to her once they've escaped Maquetimië's clutches, dearly hoping that they won't run into her again any time soon.

'I'm not prepared to waste a moment of being with you to idle chatter with anyone else', Tuilindien says with the smallest of blushes, and Carnistir wants to kiss that blush and make it deepen.

Not being able to tenses up the restless thing inside him again.

'I liked the trees in that park', Tuilindien says as they take their seats at a table outside the teahouse, also situated underneath some trees. 'They were older than this city, weren't they? Wild things rather than planted here by your industrious people.'

'I suppose so. I don't know for certain, though. You would have to ask my grandfather.'

'Perhaps I will, if I get the chance.' It is hardly an outrageous thing to say, but she still feels shy, curling her fingers around her teacup and holding it close.

'He will like you, you know', Carnistir says, sounding like's only just realising it, and relieved about it. It feels like the tension that has seemed to surround him today dissipates slightly. 'Grandfather Finwë doesn't have… prejudices. He has many friends among the Vanyar.'

She doesn't quite know what to say in reply to that, so she just smiles. There is a lull in their conversation, less comfortable and sweet than yesterday's touch-filled quiet moments, while they sip tea and nibble at cake. Or she nibbles, at least. Carnistir has already polished off his.

She steals glances at him, thinking that he looks very nice in his rather tight brownish-red shirt that compliments his dark looks.

In the quiet between them, in spite of the chatter of other teahouse customers, Tuilindien becomes aware of a quiet rustling sound that appears to come from some distance away. Looking around briefly, she sees nothing unusual. Carnistir appears distracted by the noise, but Tuilindien decides she has had enough of the somewhat awkward silence. She asks if he has set a time for a riding lesson with the twins already, since he said the day before that he would do soon.

'I'm thinking of doing it some day next week', he replies, shifting his concentration from the surrounding noises to her. His hand creeps closer to hers on the table. 'I haven't spoken to them about it yet, though. I should. They seem so restless still, though things with my father have mostly calmed down. I think they need more to occupy their time, really. When I was leaving home to come see you, they declared themselves bored and asked to come along even though –'

They hear the rustling again, this time louder, perhaps closer. Carnistir appears bothered by it, which Tuilindien finds odd – while his emotions are volatile, she has never seen him startled by a small thing such as this.

She remarks that there are probably some birds looking for crumbs or for berries in the bushes, and at that Carnistir's face turns red and he stands up suddenly.

'Wait here, Tuilë.' And then he is gone, his long strides carrying him away from her before she can do more than open her mouth in astonishment.

She watches as he walks past several tables to the bushes in the direction where the rustling sound came from and reaches into the foliage. There is a sudden cry of pain, and another, and then two red-headed little boys emerge and are grabbed none too gently by their ears by their big brother.

Tuilindien stands up and gathers her skirts and hurries to where Carnistir is now fuming at his brothers. If he is trying to do it quietly, he is failing utterly.

'Carnistir.' She touches his arm and he lets go of his brothers and turns to her. He is clearly attempting to rein in his fury, but she can still feel him shaking with it. So much anger, directed at children.

She speaks carefully. 'I see your little brothers also have a craving for delicacies on this day. Good afternoon, Pityafinwë and Telufinwë.' She greets them, nodding as calmly as she can, as if it is completely normal to discover little boys lurking in the bushes while their brother has tea with a woman he's courting.

The twins bow clumsily back to her, attempting to behave now that they have been reprimanded, though their faces and ears are red and they have tears in their eyes. In spite of their misbehaviour Tuilindien's heart goes out to them: they are so young and look so contrite and scared at being found out and at their brother's anger.

'Carnistir, I think your little brothers should join us.' She looks at him meaningfully. 'Since they are here already.'

He looks at her like she is crazy. 'Come on, Tuilë, they don't deserve it', he grinds out, and goes to grab her by the arm as if to take her aside to speak with her privately. But he seizes her too roughly and she hears herself make a little surprised noise of pain when his strong fingers dig into her arm and twist as he tries to make her turn aside.

At her pained sound Carnistir lets go of her at once. 'I'm sorry', he says quickly, horror bleeding into his voice and into their connection that neither is managing to control. 'Did I hurt you?'

'It is all right', she says reflexively and makes a point of not touching her arm where his fingers gripped her, though it smarts. She tries not to tremble.

'I'm so sorry', he says again, looking dazed.

A part of her wants to comfort him but she cannot quite bring herself to. 'Carnistir, I think we should go back to our table. With your brothers.'

'They were spying on us. They followed me even though I had forbidden them to come. Our parents must be afraid of where they've disappeared to, if they have found out that they're gone.'

In spite of his words his fury is mere embers now, and she knows she can talk him into doing as she wishes.

Working hard to keep her voice steady, she says, 'It was wrong of them, I agree, and you can chastise them more for it later when you go home. But now I think we should go back to our table. No need for a scene here, Carnistir.'

She speaks softly but Carnistir seems to realise that he is being reprimanded as much as the twins. 'I don't care about people staring. Let them stare, I'm already notorious', he says, but the words ring hollow.

His anger that had burnt red-hot seems to have disappeared in a cloud of shame and regret, less alarming than the rage but just as stifling in Tuilindien's mind. She tries to close their connection and concentrate on the children while appearing normal to any curious onlookers. She doesn't like wearing masks but she can do it when required.

'Carnistir', she says again.

He shakes his head, frowning – Tuilindien feels him distancing himself from her, like she tried to do as well – and then says quietly, dejectedly, 'Yes, let's go. Come on, Ambarussar.'

Tuilindien takes each little twin by the hand as they walk back to the table where their abandoned cakes have attracted the attention of a few bees. She gently encourages them to move elsewhere, then sits down and encourages the twins to do the same.

She looks up at Carnistir who is still standing uncomfortably by the table. The twins have seated themselves on either side of her.

Tuilindien asks, 'Carnistir, would you go get some cakes for your brothers? And another pot of tea as well.'

He flinches a little at her formal tone as if it is an insult, but doesn't protest. 'I'll also pay someone to take word to mother that they are safe', he says and goes into the teahouse.

Tuilindien lets out a little sight as she stirs her now-cold tea, tries to gather herself and thinks of how to use this short time she has gained alone with Carnistir's little brothers. In addition to it being the right thing to do, it is easier to think of them than of the budding panic she feels at how things with Carnistir have suddenly taken such a terrible turn.

'Do you two often follow your brothers?' she chooses to ask first. They have done it twice now to her and Carnistir.

Two red heads are shaken. 'They don't like it, and mother and father don't like either', says the twin on her left that she suspects might be the elder, Pityafinwë.

'Then why did you follow Carnistir today even though he told you not to?'

Both of the twins stare down so she cannot see their faces from where she is sitting between them.

'Look at me', she says gently but firmly, the same way she often speaks to the children she gives writing lessons to. At once two small faces look up at her, pale under the freckles but thankfully no longer tearful.

'Do you not like him seeing me?' She glances at either little boy in turn.

The twins look at each other and don't speak a word, but Tuilindien gets the definite impression that there is a conversation taking place.

'He doesn't spend as much time with us since he started seeing you', says the twin on the left after a moment.

'He used to take us with him to many places, but he doesn't do that so much anymore. He never lets us come along when he sees you. And he is busy all the time, and grumpy most of the time.'

'And he keeps his door locked now', adds the other. 'Tyelko and Curvo almost never let us into their rooms. Russandol does but he's away at the palace or somewhere a lot. We liked spending time in Moryo's room, and he helped us with our homework often.'

'He also often shouted at us and sometimes threw us out', adds the first twin as if in the name of honesty, 'but that's all right. He shouts at everybody, it's not dangerous.'

This is said in the name of family loyalty and innocent love both, Tuilindien thinks, or hopes at least.

'We just wondered what he does with you that is so important and so secret that he won't tell us', confesses the twin on the left after a moment. He seems to be the spokesman of the two. 'So we came to see, and also because we were so bored. And you were just talking and drinking tea.'

'Not even anything exciting', says the other twin and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his tunic. Automatically, Tuilindien hands him her napkin, and then Carnistir's napkin to the other boy.

As they blow their noses Tuilindien thinks of Carnistir's brothers and remembers that the only married one is Canafinwë, the second oldest of the seven; the twins must have been very young when he was courting his wife. She wonders if they realise why Carnistir keeps seeing her.

Carefully, she says, 'Sometimes when a young man and woman like each other, they want to spend time together even if they do not do anything exciting. And they like to be alone together.'

The twins are staring at their feet again so she doesn't know how much they understand of what she says. After a moment, the one on the left says, 'We are sorry we ruined your tea meeting.'

'I forgive you', replies Tuilindien. 'I am sure you have learned that it was the wrong thing to do to follow your brother without permission. But you will have to apologise to him too, even if it is scary because he gets so angry.'

'We will', say the twins in unison.

Tuilindien is afraid to ask, but she has to know, for she has been wondering ever since she saw Carnistir drag his brothers out of the bush and grab them so roughly. And then he touched her so roughly too, so differently from all other times... 'Does he – does Carnistir ever hit you when he is angry? Or hurt you in some other way?'

Two pairs of horrified blue-grey eyes stare up at her. 'He would never hit us! He sometimes shouts and curses and breaks things ��'

'– by throwing them. And he slams doors, he once broke the door of the garden pavilion', adds the other twin helpfully.

'But he doesn't hit us or hurt us. Well, except when he drags us somewhere, like he dragged us out of that bush. But he didn't do it to hurt us, just to get us out of there.'

Tuilindien is relieved beyond words. She is still very much unnerved by his temper and thinks that he should not treat his little brothers as he does, but her graver concern at least seems unnecessary. She takes a few deep breaths to compose herself.

'Lady Tuilindien.' Small hands reach out to touch hers and two little faces look at her beseechingly. 'Please don't be angry with Moryo because of us. We didn't mean to cause him trouble, or you.'

'We do like you, lady Tuilindien', the other twin says. 'We think that it makes Moryo happy to spend time with you. Even if he is grumpy with us.'

Tuilindien thinks that these two have a very good heart, though if they are naughty sometimes. And it seems that young as they are, they might have some of their mother's famous insight and wisdom.

She squeezes their hands and says, 'There is no need to call me "lady", just call me Tuilindien or Tuilë.' She smiles at them gently, happy that the three of them got this far before Carnistir returns.

'You can call us Ambarussar.' The twins are all light and smiles now. 'Or you can call me Telvo and him', the boy on the left points at his twin, 'Pityo. Our father doesn't like it when we are called by the same name.'

Just as Carnistir returns balancing a treat-filled tray on each arm, Tuilindien tells the twins that she will call them by different names when it is necessary to refer to only one of them, but otherwise she is happy to use the name they have chosen to share. She believes in the right to choose one's own name.

Carnistir distributes cakes and pours tea while Tuilindien keeps chatting with the Ambarussar until the last traces of paleness and upset have faded from their faces.

He notices that she is now in turn pale, and the light conversation she makes with the twins doesn't hide her uneasiness though she tries her best to pretend that all is well.

It is very clear that she has forgiven the twins' intrusion and won their eternal devotion, and he can only hope that she will forgive him too although his transgression is greater.

Though the tense thing inside himself disappeared after it made him snap, he feels far from light; he is more ashamed than he has ever been in his life.

And he can feel, in the connection between them that is never completely shut off these days even when they do their best to close it off, that though she keeps up a conversation with the twins Tuilindien is unhappy and scared. That makes him utterly miserable as well, and afraid of what consequences his actions will have.

He doesn't know what he could say here that would make things better, so he drinks his tea and stays silent.

A/N: Warning: there is some mild violence in this chapter courtesy of those anger management issues of Carnistir's. It's not very intentional but it does happen.

Several people have noted in comments to various chapters that Carnistir has kept his temper impressively in check. Well, now the pressure got to be too much for him. Tuilindien has a strong reaction to it, because this pre-darkening Valinor is a very peaceful place with no violence to speak of, and thus even small acts of physical aggression have significance.

In the next chapter, the 'Angst' tag is justified.

Please let me know what you thought!

#it has been ages but here is a chapter! a long one #it's really late now so last edits may have resulted in some silliness #pls let me know if you notice any #silmarillion fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #your spirit calling out to mine #caranthir #caranthir's wife #tuilindien #romance #my fics #elesianne's fics

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superbatbigbang · 7 years

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Superbat Big Bang 2017 Masterlist

Week One

June 21st The Crush Zone metropolisjournal, steals_thyme Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 9k, Explicit

(set during Batman v. Superman) After the showdown at the Gotham Port and a hostile confrontation with the Bat vigilante, Clark tries to apologize for wrecking the Batmobile. Bruce is so angry, he can hardly keep his priorities straight. Will Bruce be able to hide what he thinks of the alien, or will everything end badly?

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | masterpost on tumblr --- June 22nd You Were Always on My Mind blue_jack, Marourin Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 17k, Explicit

It wasn’t that Clark loved Bruce less, or admired him less, or had stopped being able to see all the things that had made him fall in love with Bruce in the first place. He just … didn’t want to be around him at the moment, found himself wondering what else Bruce would say to get his point across, what else he’d do to make sure Clark kept his distance.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | masterpost on tumblr --- June 23rd I'll Show You a Silver Rose mithen, yamada Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 8k, Teen+

When Clark is trapped in the Phantom Zone, he can only watch in horror as Bruce interacts with the shapeshifter that has taken his place.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- June 24th I’d Learn To Float Meduseld, Selofain Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 19k, Teen+

Clark Kent is an up and coming gossip reporter, and a fledgling superhero, and he’s doing alright. Then Bruce Wayne adopts an orphan and everything goes to hell. In a good way.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr ---

Week Two

June 25th Ghastly Murders in the East End dippkip, Kingy Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 38k, Teen+

London, 1888. A vicious killer known as Jack the Ripper has begun haunting the district of Whitechapel. In light of Scotland Yard’s inability to solve the case, intrepid reporter Clark Kent has made it his mission to track down this fiend and bring them to justice, though he may find himself more deeply involved in the affair than he bargained for.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- June 26th The Other World Ginger, scumashslanderson Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 11k, Teen+

In this emotional story, Barry Allen goes missing on a mission fighting a new villain named DeathNote. Clark and Bruce must figure out where Barry disappear to. However, after a confrontation with DeathNote one will go to another Universe/World. Will the other save them in time? Or will DeathNote get to them?

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- June 27th Everyone Knew Eventually vidavitavi, Roscuro Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 29k, Explicit

It took a little indirect help from a couple of embarrassing incidents, his ex, and his best friend’s son.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | tumblr masterpost --- June 28th The End of the Star Lopithecus, VaticanSaint Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 38k, Explicit

Bruce Wayne, is attacked and kidnapped on his way home from a charity event. Mysterious men whisk the billionaire away to a remote planet, light years away from Earth. A star system in peril needs his help. He must act to save the people of this strange new world. Things are not always as they seem, and what awaits on this alien odyssey will challenge even the Batman’s resolve.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- June 29th Practical Magic Pandamomochan, KatsuyaCrimson Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 22k, Explicit

From love spells, to body swaps, to gender switcheroos, Bruce and Clark have no luck with magic. Then again, maybe some magical mischief is just the trick these heroes need to finally admit their feelings.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- June 30th Shotgun Kiss KatsuyaCrimson, catgoboom Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 9k, Explicit

After being together over 25 years, age is getting to Bruce Wayne. Batman and Superman being the only things that drive Bruce to continue living, and for Clark to watch this, well most days feel like madness. They share a kiss to take away that madness.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 1st The Wrong Foot Kitty, orotea Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 16k, General Audiences

Krypton is under attack by an alien threat and the Justice League is called to assist. As thanks, Krypton offers young scientist Kal-el to travel to earth and update the Justice League's tech. But, as Kal will soon discover, it's pretty hard to do your job when you've got a bat breathing down your neck.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | tumblr masterpost ---

Week Three

July 2nd Hope BuckinghamAlice, Kingy Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 12k, Teen+

When Bruce goes to visit Martha Kent eighteen months after Clark is killed, he discovers that Clark is back from the dead... and is now raising a baby who looks suspiciously like a mix of the two of them. As the two of them learn to co-parent, they must ask themselves if what was between them is really all in the past.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 4th Make Your Mark (On My Heart) technopat3, ireallyshouldbedrawing Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 8k, Explicit

Clark always thought he was an Alpha, then he thought no Alpha would want him. Bruce wants to prove otherwise.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 5th This Side of the Stars architeuthis, TKodami Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 43k, Teen+

After Clark's death, Bruce finally gets to know him.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 6th Like a Steel Trap missigma, Batdad/mizgoat lark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 27k, Explicit

A young Bruce Wayne travels to Metropolis to try to gather more information about a mysterious new hero, Superman. After his first attempt—questioning reporter Clark Kent in his hotel room—proves fruitless, he returns to his original plan to meet the man himself. Long aware of a kidnapping plot, Bruce allows himself to be taken captive in hopes that Superman will rescue him. While Superman does make an appearance, nothing else goes according to plan.

fic on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr --- July 7th Pieces of Us ComposerofDiscord, scumashslanderson Hernan Guerra/Kirk Langstrom, 60k, Mature

“It’s human nature to want to live, and therefore Kirk shouldn’t be ashamed, but he was. He is. As soon as those otherworldly eyes met his, he knew this was not what he signed his life away to.” Kirk is recruited by the government to work on a confidential project. Desperate to find a cure for his cancer, he accepts only to find what he was testing was whom he was testing. By then, he couldn't turn back. What's done is done as he struggles to undo the mess he's made.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | tumblr masterpost --- July 8th Engraved In Our Souls Nixie DeAngel, Batdad/mizgoat Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 9k, Teen+

It started with pain, with warm blood and bold, black letters. How was he to know it'd lead to a pair of gorgeous eyes, shimmering with the promise of life long happiness and love? Or, after years of waiting, Bruce finds his soulmate in the least likely of places.

fic on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr ---

Week Four

July 9th I Pulled A Thorn From His Tiny Paw bisexualagentcooper, architeuthis Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 8k, Teen+

When there's a Superman imposter, Batman and Superman must work together to get to the bottom of it.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr ---

Amnesty Week

July 12th Saudade steals_thyme, architeuthis, TKodami Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 20k, Teen+

It's midsummer, 2006. In the wake of his son's death, Bruce Wayne tries to outrun his grief on a cross-country road trip. When his car breaks down on a dusty road in the heart of Kansas, a friendly stranger stops to lend a hand.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 13th The Pitter Patter... of the Shower BuckinghamAlice Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 3k, Explicit

Clark and Bruce try to have sex without waking the baby.

fic on Ao3 | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 13th Pole Dancing Hernan scumashslanderson Hernan Guerra/Kirk Langstrom, art, Mature

pole dancing Hernan for @superbatbigbang Amnesty week. A thought continued from this post because the uniform of Zod from Superman 2 looks like a dancer’s uniform.

art on Ao3 | art masterpost on tumblr --- July 15th Fortunate Accident BananaMuffinSpecial Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 13k, Teen+

Clark confessing his feelings to Bruce was never part of the plan, and now both of them have to face the consequences.

fic on Ao3 | fic masterpost on tumblr --- July 15th all each riddles, when unknown susiecarter, steals_thyme, TKodami Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, 51k, Mature

Post-MoS AU: Clark, struggling to deal with the events of Black Zero Day, is assigned a straightforward human-interest piece—on Wayne Enterprises. Then Batman catches Superman's attention, Clark Kent starts investigating Batman, Bruce Wayne spends a lot of time arguing with hitting on Clark Kent, and Bruce's best efforts to find a way to hurt Superman start to bear fruit. And then things get complicated.

fic on Ao3 | art on Ao3 | tumblr masterpost ---

Art Prompt Challenge

And that is it for the 2017 edition of Superbat Big Bang! Please be sure to drop our authors and artists kudos, likes, and reblogs if you like what you read!

#masterpost #masterlist #sbb 2017 #superbat #superbat big bang #bruce x clark #hernan x kirk

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jessdoyletattoo · 6 years

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FAQ

Here’s a list of my frequently asked questions! I’ll be updating it when necessary :)

If you are looking to join the mailing list to be notified when my books are open, please go to:

http://www.ambassadortattoo.com/jessica/

*Please be aware this is not a wait list.

What does “books closed” mean?

It means I am unable to take on new tattoo projects or consultations! My schedule books out in three month increments and is currently full, but keep an eye out for posts about when they will open, or sign up for my mailing list to be notified when they do!

When will your books be open?

Sometime in October! I am booking in three month increments and do the bookings the month prior. I will be posting on Instagram and the Ambassador Website as soon as I have an exact date, so please keep an eye out! You can also subscribe to my mailing list.

***Please do not email me asking when my books are open. As soon as I know when they are open, I will post it

When your books open, how do I book in?

I’ll be posting all of the details of what to do as soon as I have an exact date in mind. I’m always trying to streamline the process to make it easier for you!

I only book 3 months at a time, and book those three months within the month before. ( Oct will be booking Nov-Jan. and then Jan will be booking Feb-Apr etc)

I emailed you a week ago, why haven’t I heard back from you?

I promise I’m not ignoring you! I receive a lot of emails everyday, and because I answer all of you personally, it may take some time for a response. Please be patient. I tattoo five days a week, draw for those five days in the mornings and evenings before work, and also need some hours in the day where I’m not working! If it’s something that needs more urgent attention, please call the shop and leave a message after you’ve emailed!

Can I book in with you?

At this time I’m not taking new projects on! I am now trying to only book in three month increments. My next bookings will be for Nov-Jan. Submissions will be taken sometime in October, so please keep an eye out on Instagram or sign up for my mailing list below

http://www.ambassadortattoo.com/jessica

The only exception to this is small tattoos (think a word or two of script, a small symbol etc) which I can sometimes accommodate at the beginning or end of a day. This does not include anything that requires a consultation. It never hurts to ask so feel free to shoot me an email! Please make sure you include every detail!

If you’re not sure if your idea is something I would take on, or you have a question that isn’t answered here, feel free to shoot me an email to ask**! Just keep in mind that it will likely be a bit before I can get back to you! Please include all the information below of what you want, it saves me a few emails asking you questions and I really appreciate it!

**If you're asking if I will take on a floral piece, the answer is 99.9% of the time yes. This is more so for if you're not sure if I can do your coverup, or fill in a gap, or you have a different idea that you aren't sure will work as a tattoo!

What:

Where (bonus points if you include a photo of the area):

What size:

Blackwork or colour:

Do you have a waitlist?

Due to how many people I deal with on a regular basis, it’s just impossible for me to keep up with a waitlist. Any openings or cancellations will be posted to Instagram!

What’s your hourly rate? How much will my tattoo cost?

Unless your tattoo is very small, its difficult to provide an estimate without a consultation. I cannot do this over email! The minimum charge is one hour, which is $180/hr at Ambassador Tattoo. If its a one shot piece I will likely quote you a flat rate. When travelling, I flat rate price my pieces for the most part.

Payment

I am all cash only! If you are coming in for your consultation and are looking to book, please be prepared to leave a min $100 deposit to secure your appointment. Anything over 2 hours requires a larger deposit of $200 or more!

Can I see my drawing before my appointment?

Although I wish I had enough time to prepare all drawings well in advance, the truth is that I just don’t! Drawings are ready for the time of your appointment. I often start one to two new drawings per day, so getting ahead of myself would just be impossible! I do not email out drawings. Small changes can be made day of, but please be aware any large redraws may result in rescheduling your appointment and require a new deposit.

Methods of payment

I am cash only for everything. The only exception being out of town clients, who may email money transfer or PayPal me a deposit.

I’m under 18, can you tattoo me with parental consent?

Sorry, but no, not even with your parents consent. We tattoo only 18+ at Ambassador. Same rules apply to me when I am travelling anywhere!

I need a touchup on my tattoo! How do I book this?

Please contact me within 6-12 weeks after your tattoo appointment if you need a touchup. It doesn’t matter if my books are closed, we will arrange a time that is suitable to you!

Free touchups apply to anything that didn’t heal properly (or healed a bit light) during the healing process and will be honoured up to six months.

If you do not follow aftercare, fade your tattoo by not wearing sunscreen, or it is simply just aging from natural processes, there will be a charge for your touchup.

Do you do coverups?

Sometimes, on a case by case basis when possible. Please keep in mind that coverups usually need to be darker, larger, and have lots of texture and detail to distract the eye from what is underneath. My dot work style shading almost never works for coverups unless its quite small. Feel free to email me a photo of your existing tattoo with a brief description of what you’d like to cover it with. From there I can let you know if its even possible, or if I would recommend a session or two of laser removal to lighten it. I’ve got referral cards at the shop that will give you a discount on laser removal at SkinPossible here in Calgary, and would be happy to set one aside for you! Remember to include the below:

What:

Where (recent photos are necessary):

What size:

Blackwork or colour:

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Deposit Policy

Please ensure that you have read and understood the following Terms and Conditions before booking a tattoo appointment.

Deposit terms and conditions

A non-refundable deposit is required to secure your tattoo appointment. Appointments are scheduled upon receipt by Jessica Doyle of the deposit. Payment of the deposit is confirmation that the client understands, accepts, and agrees to these terms and conditions.

Balance

The remaining balance of the cost of tattoo (minus deposit) is required in cashimmediately following the tattoo appointment.

In the case that multiple appointments are made, the the balance per appointment is required immediately following each tattoo session. The initial deposit is required to be carried forward throughout all the booked tattoo appointments and applied to the final session of the project.

Payments

Deposits and payments are accepted in cash only. The only exception being out of town clients, who may leave their deposit by e-mail money transfer. Confirmation of appointment is made when the deposit has been received.

Cancellations and rescheduling

All deposit are NON-REFUNDABLE. With a minimum of one weeks notice, initial design concepts may be altered, and appointments may be rescheduled to a different day or time. Appointments may be rescheduled a maximum of 2 times with notice. A third rescheduling may be subject to loss of deposit.

*Neglecting to give one week notice for rescheduling or design change will result in full loss of deposit

Drawings will be ready for the day of your appointment.

Please do not book a tattoo appointment if you do not fully understand and agree to these terms and conditions.

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Before your appointment

Please ensure you’ve sent any reference photos if necessary to me at least a week prior to your appointment. [email protected]

If there is anything you want to change/add to your idea other than what we discussed at your consultation, you must notify me via email a minimum of one week prior to your appointment.

Make sure you eat a big meal within the hour before you come! And bring some sugary snacks. It’s important to keep your blood sugars up and make sure your body feels good!

Don’t drink the night before your appointment! I always encourage you drink extra water in the week prior to hydrate your skin!

Make sure you wear something dark and comfortable, that allows easy access to the area we are tattooing. Ink usually finds its way onto your clothes, so don’t wear your favourite white silk top/bra/pants.

Bring extra things to make you comfy: a sweater in case you get cold, headphones if you want to zone out and relax etc.

I am cash only, but there are ATMs located nearby! Feel free to stop by your bank prior to your appointment

Drawings are ready for the time of your appointment. I often start one to two new drawings per day, so getting ahead of myself would just be impossible! I do not email out drawings. Small changes can be made day of, but please be aware any large redraws may result in rescheduling your appointment and require a new deposit.

If you need to reschedule, one weeks notice is required. Anything less will result in loss of deposit. (Appointments may be rescheduled a maximum of two times, the third may result in loss of deposit)

Please do not bring anyone with you to your appointment! We have a smaller studio and there’s not a lot of extra space at the station. We have music or movies going all the time, and I promise I’m good company if you get bored :)

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