#maybe even her spirit as a companion for a time before she gains control of it further

[ganondoodle]

back on my zelda thoughts

idk about you but i got sick of zelda running after people with big sorrowful puppy eyes begging them to listen to her(they wont) or to help link in totk pretty fast

[nerdythebard]

#27: Athena, Goddess of Wisdom

She had to make her appearance eventually, Gods and Goddesses.

Athena is probably one of the most famous deities. Daughter of Zeus, born despite his schemes, ready to defend the people and Olympus. Contrary to Ares's bloodshed, she represents strategy, military wisdom and careful planning. Spoiler alert: we're not making her a Battle Master ;)

Next Time: HAVE YOU EVER HEARD THE JAGUAR CRY TO THE BLUE CORN MOON!?

Let's see what we need for the SMITE version of Athena to appear in our D&D game:

Ultimate Defender: Even bigger protector than Artio, Athena is a Guardian with High Crowd Control and High Defence.

Reach for the Sky: Athena uses long-reach attacks and her Ultimate allows her to appear by her companion's side for some extra protection.

You and what Army: Athena can summon the Defenders of Olympus to form a shield wall around her, as well as taunt and goad enemies into fighting her.

---

I know I've done this before many-a-times, but I really have no choice here. Athena is a guardian, she has the divine blood of Zeus in her veins... I have to make her a Protector Aasimar. We get a +2 Charisma and +1 Wisdom, 60 feet of Darkvision, resistance to necrotic and radiant damage, ability to speak Common and Celestial, the Light cantrip, and Healing Hands, which lets us recover Hit Points equal to our level once per long rest.

We're going to take the City Watch background, which gives us proficiencies in Athletics and Insight, two languages of our choice, but we're actually going to customize it and replace the Watcher's Eye feature with Legal Authority from the Inquisitor background. This allows us to become a representative of the law, pass judgments and sometimes even carry out the sentence. Basically, we can now tell those who attempt to invade Olympus

ABILITY SCORES

Strength will be first, our weapon is a spear and those are not labelled as finesse. Next is Constitution, we need to be able to take hits. Follow that up with Wisdom, it's kinda our thing, especially when it comes to strategy.

Charisma will be next, it's important for a good leader (and a proud crafter). Dexterity is a bit lower than I would like it to be, but in SMITE Athena is not the quick-and-nimble type. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence. We really need other abilities more, plus it wasn't a smart decision to punish Arachne for winning a competition.

CLASS

Once again, I'm putting a small twist on the prediction and I think this is the first time on the blog we're doing this.

Level 1 - Paladin: We start with the divine warrior. Paladins get a d10 Hit Dice, [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. In the artwork, we see that Athena is not turtled-up in armour, so giving her a half-plate in addition to a spear and a shield seems like a good option. Our saving throws are Wisdom and Charisma, and we get to choose two class skills (Intimidation and Persuasion).

We start by getting Divine Sense, which informs us of any celestial, fiends, or undead within 60 feet of us. We know the type, but not what the creature actually is.

Lay on Hands is similar to our racial ability, Healing Hands. We have a pool of healing energy, equal to [our Paladin level x5] which restores itself at each long rest. As an action, we can touch a creature and restore its Hit Points by whatever points we have left in the pool. Alternatively, we can spend 5 points to remove one disease or poison from the target.

Level 2 - Paladin: We get Divine Smite. Whenever we hit a creature with a melee weapon attack, we can burn a spell slot to add extra 2d8 radiant damage (+1d8 for each spell slot above 1st-level to a maximum of 5d8). Damage increases by 1d8 if the enemy is a fiend or an undead.

We also get to pick a Fighting Style. To fulfil Athena's role as a guardian, we're once again going to pick Interception. Whenever a creature within 5 feet of us is hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to reduce the damage by [1d10 + our proficiency bonus]. We must be wielding a shield or a simple/martial weapon.

Paladins also get Spellcasting. Charisma is our casting ability, and we do not learn cantrips or rituals. Paladins have access to their full spell list and can each day prepare [Charisma modifier + half of Paladin level rounded down] spells. We start with two 1st-level spell slots:

Divine Favour bathes us in divine light and power, allowing our weapon attacks to deal extra 1d4 radiant damage for 1 minute (concentration).

Heroism increases your allies' morale. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), one willing creature we touch is immune to being frightened and gain Temporary Hit Points equal to our casting ability modifier at the start of each turn.

Shield of Faith surrounds one creature of our choice within range (60 feet) for 10 minutes (concentration), granting it a +2 AC bonus.

Level 3 - Paladin: With Divine Health we are now immune to disease. We also get to pick our subclass, our Sacred Oath. Athena is a devoted protector of her city and the gods, so making her take the Oath of the Crown, to uphold the spirit of the nation and service to law seems fitting. We start by getting some Oath Spells; those are always prepared for us and don't count against the total number of spells known:

Command forces a Wisdom saving throw onto one creature within 60 feet of us, as we utter a single-word demand. On a failed save, the target is compelled to execute that command to the best of their ability at the beginning of their next turn. The command cannot force the target to harm themselves.

Compelled Duel forces one creature within 30 feet to turn their attention towards us and fight one-on-one, provided they fail a Wisdom saving throw. For the duration (1 minute, concentration), the compelled target has a disadvantage on attacks made against targets other than us and must make a Wisdom saving throw when attempting to move more than 30 feet away from us.

We also gain access to the Cleric's Channel Divinity. Once per short or long rest, we can use one of the two effects listed below:

Champion Challenge acts similarly to the Compelled Duel spell, as it prevents creatures who fail a Wisdom saving throw to move further than 30 feet from us. The difference is, this ability affects every creature within 30 feet radius.

Turn the Tide lets us use our bonus action to bolster the injured. Each creature of our choice within 30 feet of us regain [1d6 + our Charisma modifier] Hit Points, provided they have no more than half of their Hit Points.

Level 4 - Paladin: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement. We will, however, take the Spear Mastery feat instead. We gain a +1 to attack rolls made with our spear, the damage dice of the spear change from a d6 to d8, we can use our bonus action to extend the spear's reach by 5 feet until the end of our turn, and finally, we can prepare ourselves for a charge. If a creature that we can see within 20 feet of us gets within our spear's reach on its next turn, we can use a reaction to make an attack against it that deals additional 1d8 damage. If the creature used Disengage before, we're not getting the opportunity.

We can also grab another spell: Protection from Evil and Good grants one willing creature we touch protection from aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Attack rolls against the target are made with a disadvantage, and the target cannot be charmed or frightened by the aforementioned creatures.

Level 5 - Paladin: With Extra Attack we can now attack twice instead of once during a single Attack action.

We also unlock 2nd-level spells and gain two spells from our subclass spell list:

Warding Bond ties up to one target within 60 feet of us. For 1 hour the target gains a +1 bonus to AC and saving throws, and resistance to all forms of damage. Additionally, whenever the target takes damage we take the same amount of damage.

Zone of Truth creates a 15-foot-radius sphere at a point within 60 feet of us for 10 minutes. Creatures inside the sphere must make a Wisdom saving throw or become unable to lie as long as they remain within the sphere's boundaries. They are not compelled to answer, however.

Level 6 - Paladin: We get our first Aura option. With the Aura of Protection, whenever a friendly creature within 10 feet of us must make a saving throw, it gains a bonus equal to our Charisma modifier.

We also get another spell: Magic Weapon transforms our non-magical weapon into a magical one, for the purpose of overcoming resistances and immunities. Until the spell ends (1 hour, concentration), we also get a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls done with the weapon.

Level 7 - Barbarian: Surprise! I believe it's the first time we jump into the rage machine. I can already hear you saying 'Ares should've been a barbarian!'. Maybe. Maybe not. Hear me out, though: Athena's rage is cold and calculated. Precise and bottled up, to be unleashed only when necessary.

Multiclassing into Barbarian doesn't give us any new proficiencies or skills, but we do get the Unarmoured Defence. When we're not wearing armour, our AC equals [10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Constitution modifier]. Unlike Monks, we still get this benefit even if wielding a shield.

We also get access to the Barbarian's key feature...

As a bonus action, the Barbarian can Rage and gain the following benefits (provided they're not wearing heavy armour):

Advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws

Bonus to damage rolls (+2; changes as we level up) for weapons that use Strength

Resistance to bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage

The rage lasts for 1 minute (unless we dismiss it earlier, are knocked unconscious, fail to attack a target on our turn or taken damage during such) and while it's on, we cannot cast spells. For now, we can Rage twice before taking a long rest.

Level 8 - Barbarian: We gain Danger Sense, to better detect hostility. If we're not blinded, deafened or incapacitated, we have an advantage on Dexterity saving throws for effects we can see, such as traps and spells.

We can also forget about defence when making a Reckless Attack. When making our first attack on our turn, we can choose to do it recklessly. This gives us an advantage on melee weapon attacks that use Strength on our turn, but until the end of our next turn, all attacks made against us also have an advantage.

Level 9 - Barbarian: We can now Rage three times per long rest.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Primal Path. And this is the moment where we get our Athenian warriors with the Path of the Ancestral Guardian. With Ancestral Protectors, we can call upon spectral warriors of the past which hinder the attacks of the first creature we hit while Raging. Until the end of our next turn, the target has a disadvantage on all attacks that aren't against us and when other creatures attack the target, they gain resistance to the damage type of the attack they make.

Level 10 - Barbarian: Halfway through the build and we're getting another ASI. We're gonna raise our Dexterity by 2 points.

Level 11 - Barbarian: Normally, we would've gained Extra Attack here, but we've already got it from our Paladin levels and they do not stack. We do, however, get Fast Movement which increases our movement speed by 10 feet provided we're not wearing heavy armour.

Level 12 - Barbarian: We can now Rage up to four times per long rest.

We get a new subclass upgrade. With Spirit Shield, our ancestral spirits now provide aid to those we defend. While we're raging, and a creature we can see within 30 feet of us takes damage, we can reduce the damage by 2d6.

Level 13 - Barbarian: At this point, our Feral Instincts are so sharp we have an advantage on our Initiative rolls.

Level 14 - Barbarian: Time for another ASI. Let's round up our Strength and put the other point into Dexterity.

Level 15 - Barbarian: Our additional damage while raging now becomes a +3.

We now get a Brutal Critical. Whenever we score a critical hit (Natural 20), apart from doubling our weapon damage die, we roll one more of the same die and add it to the score.

Level 16 - Barbarian: At this point, our Spirit Shield reduces the damage dealt to our allies by 3d6.

We also get another subclass upgrade. With Consult the Spirits, we can now use our ancestral warriors to cast either the Augury or Clairvoyance spells without a spell slot or material components once per short or long rest.

Level 17 - Barbarian: With Relentless Rage, we can now fight despite death. If we drop to 0 Hit Points while raging (and don't get damaged enough to insta-kill us), we can make a DC 10 Constitution saving throw and gain 1 Hit Point on a success. Each time we use this feature after the first, the DC raises by 5 and resets after we finish a short or long rest.

Level 18 - Barbarian: We get the final ASI of the build and we put two points into our Dexterity. We can also now Rage five times before rest.

Level 19 - Barbarian: Our Brutal Critical increases to two additional dice when scoring a Natural 20.

Level 20 - Barbarian: We end with Barbarian 14, which ends with another subclass upgrade. With Vengeful Ancestors, we can truly pull the Uno Reverse Card. When we use our Spirit Shield (which now reduces damage by 4d6), besides just reducing damage, the spirits now deal force damage to the target, equal to the damage prevented.

---

And that is Eda Athena, the Owl Lady! Let's see what we got:

To start off, we're a tank with many protection options for both us and our allies. With increased movement, advantages on initiative and damage-dealing rolls, plus some protection spells, we can easily lead and strategize.

With a half-plate and a shield our AC is 17, we have a +2 to our Initiative, 40 feet of movement, and an average HP of 175.

Unfortunately, our spell repertoire is not great, negative modifier to our Intelligence (if you want to fix that, be sure to hunt for the Headband of Intellect), and no ability maxed to 20.

---

Okay, I think this is not a bad build. As always, treat these as suggestions and modify your own builds as you please. I hope you've enjoyed yourselves and I'll see you in the next one!

- Nerdy out!

[memeadonna]

Mind Over Monster

I wrote this for a friend, so if you're reading this: Hi RJ!

You and the Bakusquad (plus Shinsou and Jirou, because it is a crime to exclude them) survived the zombie apocalypse, and now roam around hunting down the remaining monsters and rescuing survivors. But you feel like everyone except you has a place in your little group. When someone in your group makes a potentially fatal mistake, you set out to prove yourself. But the question remains: did you ever even need to in the first place?

You kept your eyes closed as you listened, searching in the murmurs around you for something unquiet and unorganized. That was how you would know if there was danger. The mist had long since retreated, but the wind carried it to places where it would rest and collect and re-emerge, using the dead to do its bidding. “Anything?” you jumped and opened your eyes to see one of your companions balancing precariously on the roof of your car.

Kaminari Denki never stopped smiling, no matter what. And considering he was the only reason that you were able to drive this electric car anywhere at all, he was one of your team’s most valuable members. You… also didn’t need to know that he was eye-fucking you right now, but it wasn’t like he could help it. There’s only so much you can turn off in the human mind, and despite your best efforts you usually ended up reading too much into things. It was nice to know that all of your companions thought you were attractive, at least.

This had all started with an accident. An unknown person had been born with some sort of zombification quirk that turned people into mindless zombies forced to do the user’s bidding if they inhaled a mist the user secreted. That person had been killed in a violent car accident that had sent them over the edge of a bridge and plummeting to the dark, angry waters below. As they bled out, their quirk had somehow activated. Maybe it was their way of saying that they did not want to die. Mist had billowed up around them, and within a few hours everybody in that prefecture had been infected by the quirk. The infection had spread across the country and then the world within a few weeks, and now, a year later, this was all that remained. The creatures had never been meant to exist this long, so eventually they began to mutate as well. They gained the ability to infect other creatures through bites, or even absorb body parts and (in the cases of the rare bigger monsters) whole people.

You and your companions had been training to become heroes, but when society had collapsed your goals had changed to survival. Now you travelled around acting like vigilantes, tracking down reported cases of those creatures and protecting civilians. Your class had split off into three groups (as had your grade’s class B), and everybody in your squadron had a purpose.

Bakugou Katsuki was obviously your firepower. He was also your self-appointed leader, and was great at barking orders. Kirishima Eijirou was your muscle – the creatures couldn’t infect him with whatever virus they had (or absorb him, though many had tried), and usually he and Bakugou did most of the heavy lifting when it came to the fighting. Ashido Mina and Sero Hanta were both masters at setting traps or helping with evacuation efforts, and they were also both charismatic and cheerful and kept your group in high spirits. Shinsou Hitoshi could almost always control the monsters to some degree, and even if he couldn’t, he was also adept with his capture weapon and could easily change gears mid-battle. Kiyoka Jirou could detect the monsters moving from miles away, and the speakers on her hero costume were both useful in battle and in evacuation efforts.

Jirou and Shinsou both basically rendered you redundant. Your quirk was a mind reading/telepathy quirk that allowed you to locate monsters (they couldn’t suppress their subconscious thoughts, so it was easier to read their minds), but the more of them there were the more useless you became. You already tended to get lost in your thoughts, but with all of these thoughts swirling around you…

“Hey!” Denki snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you okay? Any monsters nearby?”

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “No, I don’t hear anything. Should be safe to stop here and recharge.” You hopped off the roof and went to go help pitch your tents.

While you loved the electric vehicle you had looted, it could only go so far with one charge, and it took a lot out of Denki to keep it working, especially considering he couldn’t just charge out of outlets anymore. That meant the group had to stop and make camp in the middle of the day and let him charge up the car. Despite being electric, it wasn’t exactly the most efficient car in the world.

At least it had lots of storage space. That meant you had lots of useful weapons and supplies for killing the zombies. That was no easy task.

The largest beast you had encountered so far had been around eight feet tall and had taken over the corpses of about six people and several dozen animals. These beasts weren’t usually able to use the quirks of the people they had absorbed, but some creatures were anomalies. The one you were hunting now was supposed to be one of those anomalies, and had apparently retained a teleportation quirk, making it tricky to catch. You supposed you could be a little more useful in this case.

“Hey! Stop standing there being useless and start a fire!” Bakugou dumped some of the wood Kirishima had just chopped into your arms, and you struggled to hold all of its weight. He laughed at you as you dropped a piece of the firewood and caught it with your foot. Mina came to your rescue and told Bakugou off with a laugh as you hopped off towards the fire pit. Even he thought you were useless. Especially he. Him. Whatever.

Shinsou used his capture weapon to lift the wood back into your arms, and you smiled at him. He understood you in a way nobody else did, and maybe it was because you both had mind-related quirks, but you found camaraderie in the fact that people tended to be driven away from you or mistrust you. Who would want to be friends with someone that could tell exactly what they were thinking, or with one verbal response could make them do literally anything?

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded as you knelt by the makeshift fire pit and started to stack the wood. “I’m fine, Shinsou,” you replied. “Just a bit of teasing.”

He walked over to the trunk and returned with a box of kindling. He balled up some of the paper and lit it when you were done. You couldn’t even do this small task without help. How useless did they really think you were?

You stood and looked around for somewhere else to help. Mina, Sero, and Kirishima had already set up the tent, Denki was charging the car, and Bakugou was digging around for something in the trunk. Shinsou walked over to go help him, and as you were about to check if Jirou needed anything you were grabbed from behind and lifted off the ground.

“Gotcha!” Kirishima purred into your ear, pretending to bite into your shoulder as he tickled you. You cried out in involuntary laughter, and kicked and flailed in his arms.

“Hey, put me down!” you tugged at the hands around your waist, and he finally listened to you, only for him to turn you around and pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

He pulled away and tilted your face up by the chin. “No more sad face, okay?” he asked softly. “Cheer up.”

Before you could respond, Bakugou started yelling again. “What useless fucker packed up the supplies?” He shouted, and if you weren’t used to that shout you would have probably flinched at the rough tone in his voice.

“Me and Mina!” Denki looked up from his charging duties. “Why?”

“You forgot our fucking food,” Bakugou growled. “Both crates full of food are missing! Seriously? Even people as inept as Y/n and Sero remember to bring the fucking food when it’s their turn to pack up!”

“Calm down Bakugou!” Sero stepped forward. “Is there any way you just missed it?”

Bakugou’s words washed over you like glass in your heart. You had heard them before – he was always calling you a dumbass, or a burden, and while he was that way with everybody, and they just shrugged it off, you just… never could. Bakugou had one of the most guarded minds you had ever seen, and regularly called you a Voyeur if he caught you staring at him for too long. You hadn’t purposefully read his thoughts very much, but his brain seemed to be full of those harsh words and nicknames. It would have been easier if you knew he didn’t mean them.

While your group argued (Jirou, Mina, and Denki were all screaming at Bakugou while Kirishima and Sero tried to break it up, and Shinsou watched with a tired expression), you snuck around to the back of the truck to retrieve a few weapons. You grabbed a small handgun (Yaomomo made you lots of supplies every time she saw you), and a few rounds of ammo. You also grabbed a metal baseball bat for good measure (better safe than sorry), and one of Bakugou’s mini grenades just out of spite. When you returned to camp with dinner in hand, you were planning on detonating it just to scare the bejesus out of him. You wondered if they would still be arguing when you got back.

Maybe they wouldn’t even notice you leaving?

Nobody stopped you as you set off across the field towards the woods. Nobody even spared you a second thought as their restless minds grew more and more distant. You relaxed as you realized you were alone, and hummed quietly to yourself as you crept through the woods looking for dinner.

The birds were singing, and the trees rustled softly in the wind as you wandered farther and farther away from camp. The small stream you crossed was probably where Jirou had collected water earlier, and just for the hell of it you decided to climb up the waterfall. It probably wasn’t the smartest move, but it was about a thirty-foot climb and it looked like fun. Once you were at the top, you followed the river upstream and searched for any thirsty wildlife.

Being the useless party member was boring. No matter what your companions did, you never seemed to be able to see the value in your own contributions. You were able to broadcast messages across large groups of people all at once, which made you invaluable both in evacuation efforts, and when planning strategies. Your range was somewhat limited unless you really pushed your quirk (if you were scared enough the words and pictures could travel up to five kilometers), but the ability to detect thoughts had less limits. Some people (like Bakugou) naturally suppressed thoughts, while others (like Kaminari) did not. It was easy to tell when the monsters were nearby because they could not repress their thoughts whatsoever. Even less than Kaminari. Everything blurred together in one big, overwhelming jumbled mess, and if there were a lot of them you were easily overwhelmed.

People you could deal with. You had grown up in a big city and gone to school in large classes, you knew what people were like. You could be in crowds with hundreds of voices and be unbothered, purely because it was all background noise. It wasn’t meant to be heard.

Sometimes, the monsters knew you could hear them. Sometimes they wanted you to hear.

You were dragged out of your train of thought as you caught sight of dinner. Drinking at the river was a boar, a yearling probably weighing about 45lbs. It hadn’t noticed you yet, and as you aimed your gun for it, careful not to make a noise, it didn’t stir.

A shot through the eye was all it took, and the animal dropped dead. You grinned to yourself as you approached it, and carefully picked it up and slung it over your shoulder. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Bakugou’s face when he realized just how useful you really were. You carried the boar back downstream, humming one of Jirou’s punk songs to yourself.

“Blood,” was the first thought that filled your head, and it made you halt in your tracks. It was so sudden, and so strong that it had startled you. You looked back the way you came and noticed that about two hundred yards away a figure crouched over where you had killed the boar, and as it uncurled its body vertebrae by vertebrae you felt terror grip your heart.

You were alone. Nobody was going to come save you. You were out of range.

The creature had a massive rack of antlers on its head – it had clearly been feeding off of the local wildlife to make it big and strong. Big and strong it was – towering at probably twelve feet tall with a lanky and deceptively fast body. Its mind was full of violent thoughts, and you heard each and every one. As you noticed it, it also noticed you. You heard its thoughts as they ricocheted around a brain that should not have had the capability to think, and as the word “Need!” filled your mind, it lunged for you.

You screamed in terror, and your quirk activated without your permission, sending the horrifying image of this thing leaping and bounding through the air towards you out in all directions. The image of itself halted it in its tracks, but it quickly shook the feeling off. You dropped your boar and aimed your handgun. The rounds did nothing, and the creature picked up speed again, unhinging its jaw and letting out a shriek so loud your ears rang. You fired into its open mouth, once more discharging an image of its maw. That also gave the creature pause, and as your handgun clicked out of ammunition, you reached for your bat and your grenade. Its eyes were so cold as it watched you change your stance, and you swallowed hard as you noticed tiny hands protruding from its chest. Those hands had once belonged to a child, and that made you angry.

Noticing the pattern, you started to send it random pictures and see what it reacted to. It seemed to recognize itself, so you started sending it pictures of its parts – deer, boar, birds, and eventually people. It kept coming at you, but it seemed almost dazed as it avoided your bat. You grinned to yourself as you assaulted it with more images and increasingly complex thoughts, not caring how you swung your bat. You landed a blow and it shrieked in pain. You then assaulted it again, sending it emotions and increasingly complex feelings. You recited math equations, explained how to start a fire, and told it about yourself in the blink of an eye, still swinging your bat. It connected with the skull-like head and broke the bone apart.

It felt anger now, you could sense it, and it wanted you dead. You kept bashing, overwhelming it psychologically. Then, all at once, you backed off. It shrieked at you as it retreated too, which gave you just enough time to chuck your grenade into its open mouth. You hit the deck as the grenade detonated, and the creature’s throat exploded outwards. As it fell to its knees, folding its long legs under itself, you stood once more. You then raised your bat high and dealt the killing blow to its head, scattering brains everywhere. You kept bashing for another thirty seconds for good measure, until all of the thoughts were gone, and the forest was once again quiet. You panted hard in the silence, and as you once more heard thoughts you gave the creature’s head another few bashes, even though you knew it couldn’t possibly have been the source.

By the time you registered the explosions behind you Bakugou was already sprinting towards you, yelling incoherently. Before you could get a word in, he was blasting the creature’s dead body with all he had. He then turned to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, one so tight that your back popped.

“Bakugou?” you asked in alarm, and he just held you tighter.

“Don’t fucking wander away, dumbass!” he pulled away to growl into your face, eyebrows knit. “We thought we’d lost you.”

The thoughts dancing around his head made you almost shiver. “Thank god they’re safe,” and a thousand variations of that hit you all at once, along with feelings of guilt and fear and pride as he took the time to appreciate the beast you had killed.

Sero was next to arrive, having scaled the waterfall in record time. He swung through the trees towards you, clumsy and graceless. His head was also filled with panic and then joy and then wonder as Bakugou let you go and Sero had his hug.

Jirou and Kirishima clamoured over the waterfall, Mina and Kaminari (who for once, wasn’t smiling) hot on their heels. You were pulled into several more group hugs, and as Shinsou approached even he wrapped you in his arms.

“Why the fuck did you go off on your own?” Bakugou yelled.

“We needed food,” you replied. “So, I hunted a boar, which we can’t eat anymore because this thing showed up.” you gave its carcass a kick. You then walked over to the boar cadaver, which was covered in goo and chunks of brain, and based its head in. You did not want this thing coming back in a new form. Either thing.

“Don’t wander off like that!” Kirishima stressed. “You could have gotten killed! If Bakugou hadn’t been here to kill that thing for you-”

“I killed it,” you cut him off, resting the bat over your shoulder and trying not to sound smug. “Apparently it’s not invulnerable to my quirk. I figured out how to use it. Guess I’m not so useless after all, even if I did ruin dinner. Sorry guys.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows twitched. “Who the fuck said you were useless?” he demanded.

“You did,” you replied. “Earlier today.”

“I told you to stop being useless. There’s a difference,” he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Listen to me. You are not useless. You don’t have to run off on your own and nearly fucking get killed to prove that, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think that’s what we wanted from you.”

Holy shit. Did Bakugou just apologize? To you? Were you dreaming?

He pulled you into another hug. “Don’t run off again, okay, dumbass?” he asked softly.

“Okay,” you smiled softly. “I can promise that.”

“Good,” he growled. “And we found the food crates. Turns out that Shitty Hair over here-” Bakugou punched Kirishima in the shoulder, “-put them away in the tent.”

Kaminari sobbed loudly, interrupting the moment. “Denki, don’t cry!” you were hugging him in an instant, and he clung tightly to you like you would just disappear if he didn’t anchor you. “I’m here, and I’m safe. I promise.”

“It’s not that!” he wailed. “We could have had bacon!”

[quinncupine]

Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

 ...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

 Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

 ...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

[infinitebread]

Freefall

Pairing: Toph/Aang

Rating: T+

Description:  For a brief moment they were free falling together, completely at gravity’s mercy. And Aang was the only thing Toph could see in this world.

*******

Toph really didn’t care what Aang was thinking.

She didn’t.  

In fact, she wasn’t the least bit bothered when they flew back to their make shift camp in complete, absolute, mind numbing silence. A gentle woosh, the tell-tale sign of a typical earth kingdom summer night, filling up the space where laughter and chatter should have been.

She wasn’t the tiniest bit perturbed when the first thing the young airbender did when they landed was wordlessly slide off his seat atop Appa's head and immediately busy himself with setting up the camp without so much as a peep sent in her general direction.

And she definitely didn’t have any feelings of indignation when he finally approached her, extending a friendly arm into her space, only to realize, as their excitable lemur companion hopped off her shoulder and onto Aang's waiting forearm with a series of enthusiastic chirps and gurgles, that it was meant to be a perch for Momo.

It took everything within her to stay calm and not hault his movements by earthbending him halfway into the ground with a furious, “What is your problem?”, right then and there…

But she didn’t care. Really.

Though Toph would never admit it out loud she was aware of the fact that, as a child, she wasn’t always the best at controlling her temper or dealing with conflict. But she wasn’t a little kid anymore.  At nineteen, Toph had sat through a lifetime of diplomatic meetings (much to her chagrin), negotiated with countless criminals during hostage situations (even though she would have greatly preferred pounding them into the ground), and even survived her most challenging discussion to date: reconciling with her parents.

Which is precisely why when Twinkletoes decided to give her the silent treatment without reason or preamble she reacted as any mature, adult person would: she bended the biggest freaking earth tent she could muster and sat in it, seething, for over half an hour.

You know, as one does.

Digging her heels into the soft, loamy familiarity of the ground beneath her, she reached out using her seismic sense, pinpointing her cantankerous other half’s barely-there-feather-light vibrations. He was preparing something on a fire, his tall lanky form moving with uncharacteristically heavier steps, as if he was being weighed down by thoughts too grave to utter out loud. The earth bending master felt her stomach sink. Worry began to colour her irritation. She thought back on the day’s events in an effort to make sense of her companion’s sudden change in demeanor.

*******

He had been in high spirits earlier that morning when they had received a report of suspicious activity occurring around a small earth kingdom town. It was suspected that a nearby factory was being used as a hideout by a ragtag team of dangerously violent robbers and miscreants who had been terrorizing the townsfolk for months. Lucky for them, the Avatar and Sifu Toph Beifong were on the case. And unluckily for the robbers, the factory in question just so happened to be etched onto the side of a cliff.

The mountain was colossal, forebodingly so, the terrain peppered with jagged rocks and heights that promised any soul cursed with a slippery grip a nightmarish demise. This would have no doubt intimidated even the most experienced climber. But Toph and Aang merely smirked at the challenge. The robbers couldn’t have picked an area more suited to the duo’s talents if they tried.

“It’s almost like they’re begging us to take them down.” Aang grinned. With one simple movement he drew out his staff and then released the wings of the glider in another, ready to execute a plan they had concocted seemingly through shared thoughts alone.

“It would be rude of us not to, to be honest.” Toph agreed. Cracking her knuckles in anticipation. Confidence exuding from every pore.

They were almost always in sync. Their hearts and minds operating on a wavelength made just for the two of them.

“We should split up. I’Il take the skies. They probably won’t be expecting an aerial attack. That’s when you--"

“I'll take advantage of the distraction you’ll have created and metal bend as many of those goons into the walls as I can. Got it.”

He smiled fondly. Enamored by her cockiness. The affection he directed at her was almost audible.

“Anything to add?”

“Yeah, actually. How about this time I fly in through the roof? Just to shake things up a little.”

The sound of his laughter reverberated through her like a gentle shockwave and the subsequent quick kiss he placed on her forehead filled her stomach with butterfly-moths.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you’re considering it.”  She teased.

“Not gonna respond to that.” He had already started running, gaining the momentum needed to take off before shouting, “Be safe.”

“Do damage.” She called back.

She stretched out her senses, reaching downwards, deep into the ground beneath her, calling upon the stubborn element that was hers to enjoin. A large pile of rocks catapolted her into the air briefly, before another rose to catch her, and then another and another until she reached her destination.

The factory was quiet. And yet it wasn’t. The whirring, ticking, pounding and clanging of metallic machinery was unmistakable. If there was one sound Toph knew very well, it was the sound of metal: obnoxiously high-pitched and unapologetically sonorous, as if to mock the very nature of the soundless earth from which it was born, with its incessant clickity-clacking.

The factory had once been used to manufacture weapons for fire nation soldiers in the former Earth Kingdom colonies, but almost 8 years after the war had ended, it was practically abandoned. Save of course for the criminals said to be using it as a hide out. But that was just the thing. There was plenty of sound coming from the machines but Toph couldn’t detect a single human heart beat from within the building.

Did they receive the wrong intel?

Then it hit her.

She heard the explosion before she felt it.

A trap.

 The words had barely registered in her mind before she realized she was airborne. She was airborne and her ears were ringing. She was airborne and there were little chunks of debris falling all around her. She was airborne and the wind had been knocked right out of her. No she wasn’t airborne.

 She was falling.

Her entire world was a conglomeration of shapes, vibrations and sounds but without her beloved earth beneath her her world was empty and quiet and dark. And terrifying.

She had no idea how far off the ground she was, too disoriented to even make sense of which way was up or down. A distant blast of heat radiated towards her. She felt it on her face. And suddenly this all felt familiar. She had been in this situation before. Years ago, dangling precariously over the edge of a war blimp. A comet raging through the sky as she held onto Sokka’s fingertips for dear life. The feelings of suffocating hopelessness and indescribable fear forcing her to shed silent tears.

Toph was certain she was gonna die.

Both then and now.

Warm arms suddenly enveloped her. The quiet nothingness around Toph was replaced by the frantic yet comforting thump-thump of a familiar heart beat. He held her to him and probably said something she didn’t hear with the roaring of the wind and violent crunch of debris crashing down around them. For a brief moment they were free falling together, completely at gravity’s mercy. And Aang was the only thing Toph could see in this world.

*******

She wasn’t quite sure what exactly happened next after that. Next thing she knew they were back on solid ground, the inky black void dissipated the moment her feet touched the earth and she was almost overwhelmed by the return of all her senses. She felt like she could breathe again. The shock of what had just transpired soon left her system, and she had been back to herself again, ready to regroup and kick ass. Those robbers had just ticked off the World’s Greatest Earth Bender and, as soon as new intel surfaced, there would be a reckoning.

Aang on the other hand, after doing a quick inspection of her for any serious injuries had fallen into an almost meditative silence. Which concerned her at first but it went on for so long, it began to irritate her.

Correction. Irritated. She no longer cared.

Nope. Not at all.

She cared so little in fact that when Aang rapped lightly on the front of her earth tent she absolutely did not jump to her feet entirely too quickly, and she definitely did not bend the makeshift stone door down before he had even begun to knock a second time.

Okay. Maybe she cared a little.

He held something out in the hand that hadn’t been knocking. She recognized the aroma immediately. He had made congee. With mushrooms. Her favorite.

A peace offering?

“A bribe.” He stated sheepishly. As if he could read her mind. “Come over by the fire, I wanna try to heal your wounds.”

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t touched by the thoughtful gesture. However, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily though.

“So you decided to finally break your random vow of silence? S'that it?” she asked once they were settled by the fire.

She crossed her arms in an effort to look unimpressed only to immediately uncross them and wince in pain when her fingers brushed against a bruise on her forearm. Her arms were littered with them, cuts too. But those were the extents of her injuries. She had been very fortunate.

“What do you mean?” He responded distractedly, the sound of water splashing as he bended it onto his palms to heal her. He had learned from Katara so she knew he was competent at healing but only with minor surface level injuries.

“You’re kidding right? You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I have?”

She contorted her face in a way that she hoped conveyed both utter annoyance and the non-verbal equivalent of ‘duh'.

“Guess I just had a lot on my mind. I’m really sorry.”

“Uh huh.” An unwelcome thought suddenly occurred to her. She exhaled loudly and braced herself for her next words. “Look Twinkles, I understand if you wanna blame me for messing up back at the factory.”

“Wait, what?” his voice was genuinely incredulous, but she needed to say these words, even just for her own sake.

“I should have realized it was a set up sooner.” She clenched a fist in her lap.

“Toph.”

“They set off all those machines to drown the bomb out but still I should’ve--"

“Toph.”

Aang silenced her with a gentle tug on her wrist and pulled her closer.

“I don’t blame you. At all. Not even a little bit.” He cups one of her newly healed hands in both of his. The gesture annihilates any ensuing words she had planned to say. “I almost lost you today, Toph. I kept thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t caught you in time…and you looked really scared…I don’t even wanna think about what could’ve--,” he breathed in deeply, gathering his emotions, summoning courage, “I love you, Toph.”

Her whole body stiffened in shock. But he continued on, his heart beating with all the nervous energy of a trapped sparrow-keet, yet his voice remained calm and betrayed nothing.

“I know this is kinda sudden and unexpected,” he carried on while beginning to heal the abrasions along her arm with feather light touches, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “but I’m sure of how I feel now. I guess I have been for a while actually.”

She blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. He swallowed anxiously.

“You don’t have to say it back. I completely understand if this is too random. I just wanted you to know that I care about you, Toph.” He chuckled in spite of himself, “A lot.”

He had moved his hands to heal the cut that ran along her face, just below her eye, swiping it away with the stroke of his thumb across her cheek bone. Before he could move his hand away, Toph held it in place with her own. A move that surprised both of them.

“I love you too, Aang.” She said honestly. She had never ever been one for mushy declarations but…he made it so easy. She had long suspected it and the sincerity in both their heartbeats merely confirmed it.

“Really?” Their faces were close together now, foreheads almost touching. The proximity thrilled her.

She answered him by closing the gap between them, crashing their lips together. He immediately responded grabbing the back of her neck and deepening the kiss, causing her to lose all coherent thought. Her arms wrapped around his neck instictively and for the second time that day, it felt as if the whole world had fallen away and there was only him. Neither of them noticed the abandoned bowl of congee tip over and spill into the soil. All Toph was aware of in those moments were needy hands and a series of heady kisses on her cheeks, her nose, along her jaw, on her neck and her eyelids, until he claimed her lips once more.

She felt like she was falling again.

They finally broke apart, panting, eyes closed, hearts racing, foreheads touching.

Before her senses returned to her in full, Toph found herself wanting to tell him more. She wanted to tell him he meant so much to her too. She wouldn’t know what to do without him either.

 And that she thinks she’s not afraid of falling anymore because she knows he’ll catch her…

But mushy declarations still weren’t her forte. She would say all of this to him. One day.

Today, she gave him one more quick, lingering kiss, smirked and told him,

“The congee’s getting cold.”

[hyperfixdccoms]

The Start (1)

The Flame Within The Ice

'You need to always remember that the powers we go to are meant to be hidden away. No one should ever know about them, no matter what. Grimoire, do you hear me?!'

' Grimoire baby, you know why I called you Grimoire? In our family tree, we had witches who worked to gain the powerful book of the summoning spirits called the Grimoire a long time ago. While you are not the book, we have a special connection toward the beyond. We do not practice the craft, but we have been passed down powers from our ancestors. We carry the fire that burns throw our vain and the Ice that helps us calculate every move. We are special. You are special, Grim.'

' Grimoire Im sorry it has to be like this. We, I can't keep on protecting you like this. You will end up dead. I'll leave you here where you are safe with Viena.'

" Grimoire, It's time to get up!" Yelled a prominent voice that sounded like a middle-aged woman. It was relatively early in the morning. The people that were up at this time were ready to leave home, kissing their spouse goodbye and their kids, and good luck at school. Children waking up at this time, getting ready with their book bags, and eating their breakfast remains to catch the bus.

" Dammit, this child. Grimoire Vi llan, Get your damm ass up before I do something. You won't even see it coming." The women shouted again. After a few minutes, a five-foot-six androgynous-looking teen came downstairs. " Grim, you can't keep on doing this. I got work, and I have bills to pay."  The women complain, rushing around the kitchen still not looking at the teen. When she turned around, she noticed the rather ghostly pale-looking skin from the teen.  She sighed, giving Grimoire a sad smile. " I made you your favorite pancake pb&j." She said, trying to get a reaction from the teen.

Not moving from his place, Grimoire chewed on his lips, picking on the skin of his nails. His long wavy hair was hidden under a crochet beanie that he had done in his free time. The average height teen wore a thin black long-sleeved shirt with a soft blue crocheted vest on. His pants were just some regular vintage denim jeans with some classic black Chuck Taylor shoes.

Grimoire shifted from one leg to another with his weight. His bag resting wine red canvas backpack rest on his left shoulder. He felt uncomfortable with the silence. Thankfully, His aunt Viena didn't ask any questions but gave him a comforting hug, but to him, it felt like that night he was tensed. " You look just like your mother and your father. It's almost surreal. They would be so proud to see you grown up like this." Viena was the sister of Grimoire's father. She was always there, and when his parent died from the accident, she took him in with open arms.  

" Morie, I know you don't think you can trust in yourself. But it is not your fault. Thorn and Golgotha Would never fault you for something you can't control yet." Viena said, cupping Grimoire's face. Viena lost in Grimoire's eyes the same eyes as her big brother's icy blue and fiery red eyes.  Viena held herself from shedding a tear. Lucky to hear the alarm of the bus coming soon rang, she cleared her throat and gave her nephew a smile. "I'll pack you your pancake. You should be ready. If you are missing something, go get it." Viena said, going to pack the pancake in a sandwich bag and putting it inside a paper bag. Viena came back to Grimoire, who was standing at the doorsteps. She handed Grimoire his paper bag and said her goodbyes. Viena stood at the doorstep, seeing her brother's baby walking away.

Grimoire took out some gloves his father had given him to help maintain his power from spiking out. Of course, his body emitted different temperatures, and he could easily adjust to any temperature. It was pretty gray outside, even for an early morning. The fallen dead leaf scattered around the neighborhood made it even more unsettling like always. Grimoire turned on his headphones, turning on his walkman playing the first song suggested Sowing Season by Brand New.

The soft guitar filling up his ears and the words filling his mind. His mind being transported to a reality of tranquility and peace. Grimoire closed his eyes, breathing in deep the clean air that cleansed his revolting mind. His right hand resting on his backpack band while his left hand is inside his pants pocket. Mumbling some words from the lyrics, he opened his eyes to see himself getting closer to the school bus stop.

Grimoire's eyes landed on the teenager he sees every day. The girl had pale skin, her hair colors dark purple. She seems to use the same outfit or at least the same shade of clothes every day. Ultimately Grimoire has come to an unspoken agreement with the girl. The two were outcasts, laughed at, and if anybody did something to stop it, they would get hurt.  In conclusion, the two stuck a bit together if they could, like in the school bus sitting together, in class, if they could.

When the bus arrived, it was already packed with other students. Grimoire let the girl in first. He followed right behind, seeing the mess of a bus it was. He took a seat next to the girl keeping his distance yet close enough to not fall out of the uncomfortable love seat. The girl leaned on the window, looking out it was comfortable, nobody talking well except the kids from the back. Every time Grimoire turned to give the girl a side look, he couldn't help but admire her despite the shit she had to take in school. She doesn't flatter behind. She just keeps ongoing. The silence was pleasant until one of the kids teased us got between us from the chair behind.

"Boo!" The boy laughed, leaning close to the girl. "Come on. What are you hiding from?" He asked rather intrusively. He turned to look at Grimoire with a smirk " How about you? Are you some type of cult?" Grimoire could hear his buddies laughing, not really trying to play it off.

"You don't have to be shy with me." The boy said mockingly, leaning toward the girl said. Grimoire chewed on the inside of his cheek. He slowly reached to grab the girl's hand, squeezing it lightly to reassure her that it would be over soon. " I like freaks." He said, leaning closer to the girl. Grimoire could feel the girl squeezing his hand back as she turned her head away from the creep leaning toward her. "No? Well, maybe you would take the offer." The boy said with a sly tone, leaning toward Grimoire, who tilted his head down to avoid looking at the harasser.

Before the boy to lean any closer, a kid from the front with blond hair turned back, and with courage and tiredness, he said, " Leave them alone, Kyle." The attention from the three was brought to the blond boy named Matt. It was rare to see somebody trying to stand up for any of us. Matt was a student and part of the football team. "Don't you have a touchdown or something to throw, Matt?" Kyle said like it was a big insult or something. Matt stood up from his seat, facing toward the three of them. " Just leave them alone, asshole."

Grimoire and the girl looked rather worried that something could break out just because of them.  "Before I make you." The two boys stood front to front from each other. The tiny walkway didn't help create space. Kyle shoved Matt backward " Maybe you should take a seat." Kyle said with a smirk. Of course, Matt wouldn't back down repeating Kyle's shove but with a bit more force. The kids had their eyes on the two boys, who were now throwing punches at each other. Some kids were encouraging the fight. Grimoire let a shaken breath out while the girl looked at the two fightings wanting to do something to help the fight stop. "Sit back down! Both of you! Now!" The bus driver yelled as he drove. The two boys pulled away, panting hard while glaring at each other. The rowdy kids encouraging the fight were disappointed the two had stopped fighting.

When the two broke apart before Kyle sat down, he menacingly leaned toward us. "Sluts" He said, very pronounced. Kyle turned away to sit on his seat. The girl turned to look out to the window while Grimoire sighed, taking his hand away from the girl's hand. His head lowered in humiliation.

Grimoire and the girl got out together when they got to school, walking inside the school building. The two had a locker on the opposite side of the hallways.  Grimoire stuffed his book into his locker, seeing a picture of his parent on the locker's door. He felt a wave of guilt, sadness, and anger. He didn't understand why couldn't he had been born without these powers. Why couldn't he be like his aunt, as his mom? Normal. Grimoire turns to the side as he heads his bus companion speak up, " Uh.Matt.Thanks for..."  The group of boys just bypass her with no second look. The girl turns to look up at Grimoire. He could only offer her a small ghost smile before she turned away.

He sighs, closing his locker. The girl had come to his side of the locker before offering him a small smile. She took Grimoire's hand " Thank you for sticking with me." She said shyly. Grimoire felt his heart race avoiding her face finding his shoes much more interesting. " No problem." He let out in a whisper. "Rachel. My name is Rachel Roth. Im sure you heard it from the teachers, but. I think a bit of a formal introduction is better." The girl now named Rachel introduced herself. Grimoire's eyes slowly scan from bottom to top Rachel, who was holding his mitted hand. " Grimoire. Grimoire Vi llan. Nice to meet you, Rachel Roth."  Grimoire returned the gesture of politeness. His voice, airy yet melodious, reached Rachel's ears, who had a faint blush on growing.

The bell brought them out from the special moment. What they didn't know is that from there, nothing would be the same.

The Fame Within The Ice © 2021 UntamedGrape(Wattpad) Hyperfixdccoms (Tumblr)

[twelvedy7]

Twisted - One shot

warning: sensitive topics (drugs). 

I just wanted to write something a bit different. It might be a bit OCC but I thought it might be a great fit for the manga universe.   This story won’t be published anywhere else than tumblr so feel free to save the story if you like it.

Oh and also english isn’t really my native language so sorry if there are incoherences. 

Takano had no sense of self-control. From a very young age he has been a witness of the sheer harshness of his mother and the complete indifference of his father towards their family. Despite how much he tried to convince himself of his difference he inherited from most of their flaws, which filled him with anger every time he thought about it. 

No wonder that whenever he met someone bright, kind, generous and appreciated he became more aware of his whole dark gloomy personality. That was the case with Ritsu he was still viewing today as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago.

No wonder that when he met this bright, kind and generous highschool kid he had become more aware of his dark gloomy personality. He was still viewing Ritsu as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago and yet he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason why such a lovable person would waste their time with him rather than finding another likeable person that would be such a better companion than him.

If all the open rejections from the brunette could make him believe he hated him, he was at least smart enough to read between the lines and see what the other tried so hard to conceal under feigned anger and flustered reactions. 

What seemed to be like a bitter-sweet genuine love story from two ignorant teenagers who lost each other from a foolish misunderstanding was driving him straight into madness. Ritsu was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts at any time of the day, reminding him of the terrible person he was and how he will never be nowhere near enough for him. Even in the poorly credible reality where the younger one would actually build up the courage to admit his feelings, he knew that their relationship was sealed to failure. 

One day Ritsu would mature and realise how incompatible they were and how idealistic they’ve been this whole time before leaving him to find another person that could offer him the support and love he needed. Maybe one day Ritsu would find the man of his dreams, different from senpai in every way, to finally live the blissful life he aspired to. That’s what broke his heart the most: they were not made for each other. No matter how hard he tried, it will never be enough because they were simply not meant to. 

He imagined Ritsu’s soulmate to be fun, social, caring, communicative and considerate which would make him forget all the turmoil he went through for all this time. His parents might be so enchanted by their personality that the fact they weren’t An-Chan wouldn’t even bother them.

The truth is he was physically and emotionally drained. He couldn’t feel a thing if it wasn’t his love for Ritsu and sometimes he felt as if that was his last tie with sanity. There were times where he would shut down his emotions. When it became too difficult to confront their inevitable fate, he would put himself in a semi-automatic mode working up to 15 hours straight without paying attention to anything or anyone, only accomplishing what he ought to.

Over time, he came to accept that he wasn’t able to love anyone without causing them a great deal of pain and suffering. That’s why he decided to distance himself from the few people who actually cared about him in his life and managed to bring him some split meaningful moments of happiness. It was like a lightning bolt shaking him from side to side, making him surrender to the hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with Ritsu and recovering from his long-lost friendship with Yokozawa. He hurt them both and didn’t deserve to be part of their lives. 

His phone vibrated. He broke off his thoughts to center his attention on the alias displaying on the screen: “Taisho” along with a message “I’m here.”

He stood up from the floor, came up to the entrance of his apartment and opened the door. A man of average-height in his mid-thirties was waiting for him. At first glance, he gave the impression of being a regular salary-man coming back home to his family after a long day of hard work. However, he came to discover that the man likely had a long history of debt behind him involving matters such as a costly divorce and low paychecks.

Not bothering to greet him, he pulled out 6,000 yen from his pocket and handed it to the fearful looking man who replaced the notes with a small transparent plastic bag containing a white powder. 

“Same thing next week?” asked the anxious black-haired man, his light blue eyes too faithful to be a dealer squeezing behind his oval glasses. 

“Yeah. See you.” 

Without giving him a second glance, he double-locked the door and came back to his dimly lit living room that felt so lonely without Ritsu here. It would take some time, if not forever, to prevent this heavy load in his heart from manifesting every time he would find himself alone without the prospect of his first love joining him any time soon. 

It still pained him… Nao came unannounced in the office earlier in the morning and asked Ritsu out for something that too likely looked like a date. A walk in the city center, a restaurant, and a nighttime exposure. That bastard. 

The rare times he had managed to take Ritsu out for a date was by forcefully dragging him out of his apartment or bluntly lying by message playing the card of ‘emergency’. He remembered the dull ache he felt in the morning as he realised how easy it was for his “best-friend” to take him out to a full outing while he had to prepare a strategy days ahead just to drink a coffee together. 

Opening the tiny bag in his hands, he chased away his dark thoughts and kneeled in front of his coffee table, pouring half of the powder out on its surface and realigned it in two fine lines with the help of an old credit card. He usually didn’t take such high doses in one shot, but tonight he knew that he needed it. The accumulated pain and overthinking were taking a toll on him. Rolling a paper, he brought it to his right nostril and sniffed the first line, ignoring the burning pain in his cavity before passing it to his left one and repeated the action.

A few seconds later he started feeling the tiny molecules flowing through his blood system, noticing the faster pace of his heart beat and the gradual relaxation of his muscles as the drug invaded his mind.

He closed his eyes. 

As always, the thrill was exquisite. The far away sounds of ambient city noises echoed and at some point the only thing he could decipher in the absolute silence was his own breath. His body was soft and any psychological pain he felt instantly disappeared. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm fluffy blanket while stroking his hair with a gentle grasp, providing him an endless feeling of comfort and security he so desperately needed. 

At that moment, everything stopped and all his troubles went away. Nothing mattered anymore. He was back being a young child pampered by a protective mother he never had with an unconditional sense of love. Pleasurable sensations coursed through his body from head to toes until his spirit went numb and he lost any notion of space and time. 

He reached that moment of nothingness that he wished could last forever.

___ 

“Takano-san!” 

...

“Takano-san!” 

Who was it? 

The voice seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure it was real.

“Masamune!” Why would someone try to break the silent darkness that was surrounding him?

For what seemed like hours, he felt himself trapped in-between the process of gaining and losing consciousness. He didn’t want to be drawn from his deep slumber yet.

He recognized some familiar voices in the background but it was hard to put a name on them as they seemed to continuously echo. 

It took him several more minutes to realise that people were present and it shook him. He became hyper aware of his environment.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a bunch of white blouses around him scampering around the room at a feverish speed. 

His mind whirled. The world seemed to be going so fast but his brain was so slow. 

His golden eyes blinked several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. In an instant he was blinded by the artificial light of the leds on the ceiling. 

In the chaos of all the fast-paced strangers around him, he felt a delicate hand fondling with the hair on the short back of his neck and let out a soft tired moan escape his lips. 

“Takano-san can you hear me?!” 

He groggily stretched out his limbs while burying his head on the petite body frame behind him and looked up to see who was the kind stranger offering him such soft intentions. 

Above him were two wide teary green eyes displaying a worried expression. Despite his blurry vision, he could recognize the refined and familiar traits of the man he loved. It looked surreal, having the both of them like this sharing such intimacy in a restless atmosphere.

Next to him was standing Yokozawa in his usual professional attire. He could only watch them through half-closed eyes all the while trying to figure out what they were doing in his apartment in the first place.

“He’s stable now. Overdoses happen regularly when cocaine and other powerful stimulants are added to the equation. That’s what producers do nowadays to boost the effects”. Said a firm feminine voice. He could see the lady in white gesturing around to her colleagues and immediately realised what just happened. She was staring at him, probably trying to jauge how awake her patient was. 

“You were lucky Takano-san. This could have been much more serious.” 

He saw his friend sitting next to Ritsu, his usual severe expression ruptured by the deep crease in his eyebrows. 

“How did you find me?” asked the raven, his voice so weak he wasn’t sure the two others heard him. 

The brunette brought his face closer to his ear, petting his forehead as he replied in a shaky shy voice: “Yokozawa-san found you like this…” he heard a sneeze. “The front door was unlocked and your phone was ringing without you answering it. You… You stopped breathing.” 

He felt absolutely miserable. 

Trying to shift his position to have a better view of his comrades, he caught the look of utter disappointment and guilt from his older friend. He probably thought that he was long done with this dark hazardous period of his life. 

“I’m… I’m sorry... I didn’t want to…” 

His battle to stay awake was getting harder and harder. 

“It’s okay Masamune. Just rest for now.”

The nurse took a hold of his wrist and stuck the intravenous line with a patch. 

“We’re going to transfer you to the clinic as you need to take several tests. You’re safe now but your body needs to recover.” 

The hand that was playing with his hair resumed and he let his head fall back on his lap. This combined with the liquid in his body led him to a sleep without dreams.

___

When he woke up again, he found himself buried under the sheets of a hospital bed. It took him some time to become accustomed to the artificial lighting of the room. Gathering enough energy to finally keep his eyes open, he gazed at the clock at his right indicating 4:55AM.

The first thing he felt was an atrocious headache that hit him with a massive chest pain undertaking his whole body. He noticed the numerous wires connected to his skin accompanied with the steady regular bips of a machine.

He heard a light snore on his right. Shifting his head, he immediately saw the small fragile figure crawling up into a ball on the couch. A cheap blanket was covering him from toes to his neck. This sight made him feel so terribly selfish. As seconds went by he started getting back to a normal state of awareness despite a fizzy pang at the back of his skull. 

With as much strength as he could gather he sprawled a hand towards him and rested it on the others’ laps. He stroked his thigh lightly with the help of his thumb and stared at his seemingly exhausted resting face. He felt so worthless. He knew he had hurt him badly in the past already and the only thing he could think of is that this was too much.

“I’m so sorry Ritsu…”. 

After reuniting with his first love following the 10 years they had spent apart from one another he had started to believe in fate. Yet he had been too trustful, using it as a justification for every one of his impatient and inappropriate moves towards the younger one. Everything became painfully obvious. This whole thing they had was destructive and that was mainly his fault. It was time to finally respect the distance that Ritsu wanted and deserved. He could not go back to these college years pretending that nobody cared about him. 

Now Ritsu would need him. 

Still, they were nowhere near close from getting into a relationship. Too many mistakes had been made. It was crucial for both men to work on themselves first as jumping the steps one more time would only bring them unhappiness.

That day Takano swore he would stop pursuing Ritsu. He’s forever been broken and finally accepting to get help was a start towards a less twisted life.

“It’s okay Ritsu.” 

One day they would be okay. They would get the life they both secretly wanted. 

[potatowitch]

Hawke as Companion

Template by @little-lightning-lavellan

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

I did originally plan on doing this for my Inquisitor but, as always, I've got Hawke brainrot instead, and I figured writing some companion interactions would be so much more interesting with her as a companion than my Lavellan. This got .... very long.

You have selected RIAN to join your party!

Race: HUMAN

Gender: FEMALE

Class: MAGE

Specialization: BLOOD MAGE

BACKGROUND

Marian Elaine Hawke, known also as “Rian”, “Chuckles”, “Champion of Kirkwall” and “Hawke, NO” was born in 9:06 Dragon to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. Despite having to keep her father's magic a secret, she was never led to believe that magic was anything but a gift. Therefore, she spent much of her younger years experimenting to see if she could produce magic, eventually managing at age 9 to light the fireplace with a tiny fireball.

Growing up, she was attached to Malcolm at the hip - the two of them shared not only their magic but their senses of humor and general chaotic energy.

After the Hawke family fled Lothering during the Blight, Hawke joined Athenril’s smugglers to pay off her entry into Kirkwall. As soon as she met Varric at the start of Act 1, they became inseparable best friends - Hawke often cites Varric as her soulmate and the platonic love of her life. During the Deep Roads expedition, Carver became infected with the Blight, and with the help of Anders, Hawke was able to lead him to the Grey Wardens so he could join their ranks.

Over the years, she developed close relationships with most of her companions except for Aveline and Sebastian. Her friendship with Merrill eventually developed into a committed romance, and Hawke started to practice blood magic after recognising that Merrill could do so without being "evil". The two of them eventually also developed feelings for Isabela, and as such she joined their romance as well.

By Act 3, Hawke had become a staunch supporter of mage rights, a dedicated member of the Underground, and wholeheartedly supported Anders’ choice to destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Following the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke and her friends fled Kirkwall, splitting up despite Hawke desperately wanting them to remain together. Isabela and Merrill chose to remain with Hawke, and the three of them traveled across the Free Marches, occasionally running into Anders and assisting him in rescuing mages from rebelling Circles. Eventually, Isabela managed to acquire a new crew, and her partners were more than happy to sail with her as she established herself once again as the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

INQUISITION

Depending on the player’s choices in Here Lies The Abyss, Hawke can be convinced to stay and help the Inquisition further instead of accompanying the remaining Wardens to Weisshaupt, becoming a full companion. She will move to sit with Varric by the fire in the main hall. Hawke will also be present in Varric’s companion cutscene where he invites the Inquisitor to play Wicked Grace.

Upon first being recruited to the Inquisition, Hawke’s specialisation is not available - when automatically leveled, she will put points primarily into the Inferno and Storm trees. Her unique specialisation, Blood Mage, only becomes available if the Inquisitor has allied with the mages at Redcliffe. At that point, Hawke will initiate a conversation with the Inquisitor about their opinions on blood magic, and if the Inquisitor states that they have no problem with it, her specialisation will open. Otherwise, she will refuse to admit her use of blood magic to the Inquisitor.

At this point, Hawke will also speak more openly about her support of Anders. She will eventually admit that they are still in contact, though she won't tell the Inquisitor anything that could give them an idea of Anders’ whereabouts.

Her specialisation is not open to the Inquisitor, however Hawke can offer to teach a mage Inquisitor "a neat trick", which will give the player the choice to replace their current Focus ability with Hawke's.

BLOOD MAGE

Upon unlocking Hawke's specialisation, she will gain a large increase to her Constitution but her mana bar will become considerably shorter, and conventional healing effects will only operate at 25% efficiency. If she is out of mana, she will automatically revert to using her health pool to power her spells instead.

Her spell tree is very similar to the Dragon Age 2 Blood Mage tree, however it does not include the Blood Slave ability - it is instead replaced with Blood Bomb, which is a variant of Walking Bomb. Instead of applying a damage over time curse to a target, Hawke channels a spell that corrupts the targets' blood from the inside until the target dies - at which point they explode, doing damage to nearby enemies. This spell continually consumes Hawke's mana and health while it is being channeled.

Her Focus ability is Major Sacrifice, a variant of the Knight-Enchanter's Resurgence. Instead of healing the party to full health and providing an ongoing healing aura, Major Sacrifice will instead heal the party to full health but take 25% of Hawke's current health, and will provide an aura of ongoing damage to nearby enemies, converting their health into health for the party.

VARRIC'S PERSONAL QUEST IN VALAMMAR

If the Inquisitor brings Hawke to Valammar, she will be suspiciously quiet throughout the quest - though she will pipe up to complain about the Darkspawn. Following the reveal that Bianca shared the location of the thaig, Hawke will be furious and will argue with her.

Upon returning to Skyhold and speaking to Varric, the cutscene will begin in the middle of a conversation between him and Hawke.

HAWKE: You deserve better, you know. VARRIC: Yeah, you've said that before. HAWKE: It bears repeating. As many times as it takes to get it through your thick head. You deserve so much better. VARRIC: *sigh* Thanks, Chuckles.

APPROVAL AND ROMANCE

Hawke is not romanceable, though she welcomes playful flirting from a female Inquisitor. She will eventually initiate a conversation where she makes sure the Inquisitor isn't expecting the flirting to go anywhere further, as she is already in a relationship.

RIAN APPROVES OF: Supporting mage freedom, open-mindedness with magic and spirits, sarcasm, humor, stealing from nobility, pranking nobility, loyalty to your friends, being nice to Varric, terrible puns.

RIAN DISAPPROVES OF: Chantry rhetoric, the Circles, Templars, Tranquility, authority, betraying your friends, ignorance, pomposity, being mean to Varric.

Hawke will not leave the Inquisition, even if her approval is at Hostile. When questioned about this, she will say:

HAWKE: Did you miss the part where Corypheus is my responsibility? I’m going to fix my fuck-up, Inquisitor. If I have to put up with you while I do it, then, well … I’ve always said the Maker has a sick sense of humor.

TRESPASSER

Following Corypheus' defeat, Hawke leaves the Inquisition to rejoin Merrill and Isabela.

Once Trespasser is started, Hawke can be found accompanying Varric and Bran to the Winter Palace.

During exploration of the Eluvians, if both Hawke and Varric are in the party, they will briefly discuss how excited Merrill would be by all this, and Hawke will say "You'd better be writing all this down, Varric."

She will approve of redeeming Solas, though she won't disapprove if the Inquisitor decides they would rather kill him.

High Approval

If Varric has chosen to give the Inquisitor an estate in Kirkwall, Hawke will pipe up during the conversation saying she's excited to be neighbors, offering to give the Inquisitor the key to her wine cellar - though she will complain that Varric has never given her control of the harbor, to which Bran will mutter "thank the Maker".

Regardless of the Inquisition's fate, Hawke will return to her lovers, occasionally keeping in touch with the Inquisitor via letters.

Low Approval

If the Inquisitor has low approval with Hawke, they will be informed that she left as soon as the Inquisitor stepped back out of the Eluvian following the final confrontation with Solas. The epilogue slides will state that her whereabouts are, once again, unknown.

COMBAT COMMENTS

Killing an enemy

And stay down!

One more for me. We’re keeping score, right?

Have at you!

How’s my hair looking? (COMBAT ENDS)

I wonder what’s in their pockets. (COMBAT ENDS)

Oh, ew. I’m not cleaning that up. (COMBAT ENDS)

Low Health

This is going badly!

Little help, maybe?

Why are none of you healers?

This hurts! This really hurts!

Low Health (Companions)

INQUISITOR: You good over there, boss?

VARRIC: Varric, that blood better not be yours!

COLE: Help the kid!

CASSANDRA: They’re swarming the Seeker!

BLACKWALL: Hang on, Beardy!

IRON BULL: Bull’s in trouble!

Fallen Companions

INQUISITOR: Shit! Trevelyan/Lavellan/Adaar/Cadash is down!

VARRIC: Don’t you dare leave me now, Varric!

COLE: Cole! No!

CASSANDRA: Seeker is down! How did they manage that?

SOLAS: Come on, Solas!

DORIAN: Help Dorian!

SERA: Awful quiet, isn’t it? Oh shit, Sera!

LOCATION COMMENTS

(first time seeing a High Dragon) *laughing* "Oh, this will be fun!" IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "Hawke, the last time you fought one of these you nearly died." "Yeah, but I didn't die. That's the important thing."

(approaching a campsite) "Well ... I've slept in worse places."

(when collecting a Shard) "Let me guess. We have to collect a stupid amount of these for a really stupid reason, and they're all going to be in really stupid, hard to reach places. *sighs* I love adventuring."

HINTERLANDS

"Have we been here before? Feels like we've been here before."

(upon unlocking the cabin in Redcliffe with the Tranquil skulls) "That's ... fucking Maker. Tranquil have always made me uncomfortable but ... they were still people. They were still... shit, I need a second."

FALLOW MIRE

"Eugh, that smell! Worse than my dog when he's eaten cheese, and that's saying something."

(upon killing Widris) "Something, something, crazy mages ... "

"Oh, walking corpses. That's nice."

STORM COAST

(upon seeing the dragon vs giant fight) *laughing* "Oh, that's brilliant!"

"Not to sound like Varric, but why are there so many bloody hills around here? My legs hurt."

EXALTED PLAINS

"Maker, I hate Orlais."

(finding Valorin's corpse) *sighs* "Might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, but ... blood magic is not for the careless."

(seeing the ruined bridge, if Varric is in the party) "Hey Varric - " "Don't you dare, Hawke." "C'mon, please?" "You are not tossing me!" "Spoilsport."

EMERALD GRAVES

"I've always thought it was beautiful how the Dalish bury their dead under a tree sprout. Like ... I don't know, maybe death doesn't have to be the end."

HISSING WASTES

"There's sand in ... places. So many places."

"Have I said I hate sand? Because I hate sand."

EMPRISE DU LION

(seeing Red Lyrium) "Maybe don't touch that. It'll do all kinds of weird shit to you."

"I'm fucking freezing. When can we go home?"

(seeing Red Lyrium giants) "What the fuck?"

(Elfsblood River rift - near the lady with titsicles) *giggles*

SHRINE OF DUMAT

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu." IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "You're not the only one."

DEEP ROADS (THE DESCENT)

"Why do I always end up back in the Deep Roads? Am I cursed?"

COMPANION COMMENTS

VARRIC: "I was worried about what would happen if I brought her here, but ... it's nice to have Hawke around again."

CASSANDRA: "I have to admit, I do admire the Champion. A woman who built herself up from nothing to defeat the Arishok ... there's a certain romance to Varric's stories about her."

SOLAS: "I've been informed that Varric also calls Hawke "Chuckles". I ... don't see how we are similar."

DORIAN: "Hawke? Oh, I like her. She's not as daft as she acts."

BLACKWALL: "The other night, I found her getting teary-eyed in the tavern over how much she misses her dog. Don't quite know what to make of that, really."

VIVIENNE: "She is a powerful mage, I'll give her that, but she's also a naive fool. No wonder Kirkwall fell to pieces around her."

IRON BULL: "She's fun. Got a lot going on in that head she doesn't talk about, though."

COLE: "Fleeing, fighting, falling. Failed father, failed mother, failed Beth and Carver too. Fire and freedom, and she knows it's right but it still feels wrong. Old wounds that never healed, sometimes she can still taste the blood in her mouth. You chose to save her. She wishes you chose differently."

SERA: "Thought she'd be scary, but she makes me laugh. Hasn't let owning a mansion get to her head, either, and have you seen those arms? She's strong."

CULLEN: "I'd ... rather not talk about her, if you don't mind. We've a less than friendly history."

JOSEPHINE: "Lady Hawke is charming, certainly, but I cannot imagine her being popular amongst her neighbours in Hightown. She throws the very concept of decorum bodily out of the window."

LELIANA: "I knew her when she lived in Lothering. She didn't seem to like the Chantry much, but she was always sweet, and her jokes made me laugh. It's a little odd to see the woman she's grown into."

TRIVIA

Malcolm also made sure he trained Hawke in using a sword. She's not very good at it, preferring instead to use her staff as a melee weapon if an enemy gets too close.

She has a mean right hook.

Her and Varric have matching tattoos on their left buttcheeks.

Despite being Ferelden and adoring her own mabari, Hawke has a preference for cats.

She's awful at singing. She sings a lot anyway.

[blue-and-dog]

The Beast in the Mountains (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)

Note: This story is centered around my fanon that, post-Sekigahara, Mitsunari and his family fled into the mountains to live in hiding for several years before his death. A wife is mentioned, but for the sake of this story I keep her ambiguous so you readers who have an OC shipped with him can just slap her in there. :D Shiranui’s profile is here.

TW: BLOOD, ANIMAL ATTACK

[[MORE]]

“That’s a good size fire; try and keep it like that for now.”

The group of men sat around the small fire; four dirty, tired, ragged men on the run from proper society, obscured by the darkness of the mountain’s dense forest, barely illuminated by the small fire. Sadanobu continued.

“Any brighter and we risk attracting animals. I’m already worried about smoke flowin’ through the treetops.”

“With how thick these trees are?” Gaku chuckled, “I’m surprised the moonlight even gets through here. We’ll be fine. We just gotta make sure to put it out before we call it a night.”

“You sure no one’ll find us up here?” Naofumi asked, as usual fidgeting with his hands out of anxiety.

“Relax, I did some scoping out of the town not far from these mountains,” Matazaemon shook his head, “They’re superstitious folk. Somethin’ about an old legend saying there’s a guardian spirit that lives on this mountain. People who go too high up the mountain end up in its territory and meet a horrible fate or some shit like that. That’s why I wanted to set up the camp so high up.”

“Besides, we’re not staying long...” Sadanobu pulled out the thick sack from behind him, “We gotta get to my guy in Kyoto and pawn all this off.”

Another successful heist for the unlikely group of criminals; two army deserters, a farmer and a gambler, able to pool their strengths and successfully rob their way across the East. Traveling nobles, temples, inns—nothing was safe. The country was a mess—they were just taking the opportunity to help themselves.

“That last temple was hidin’ some good loot!” Gaku said excitedly, “I still can’t believe how lucky we got! Lemme see again!”

Sadanobu rolled his eyes, but smiled and passed the bag to Gaku, who excitedly opened it, tilting it toward the light of the fire to see the inside; the head of the gold Buddha glittered back at him. “We got enough goodies in here to eat like kings for weeks!”

“Man, I haven’t eaten a decent meal since the Toyotomi...” Sadanobu sighed and leaned back. “It’ll be nice...”

“Hey, yeah, you were a Toyotomi guy!” Matazaemon laughed, “I was Oda! I know your pain.”

“You’re kidding! You don’t strike me as an Oda guy.”

“And you don’t strike me as a Toyotomi!” he cackled back, as the two howled in laugher. Gaku and Naofumi chuckled along.

“You know, you two never talked about your army days,” Naofumi pointed out, “We got time—why not start now?”

“It’s really nothin’ much,” Matazaemon shook his head, digging through another bag to grab a rice ball and start distributing them amongst the group, “I joined up so my old man didn’t have to, wound up havin’ to do a lot of killing and burning and pillaging that I really never wanted to do. Watched all the major generals shining above everyone else, while the foot soldiers were trampled beneath them. Date, Takeda, Uesugi...they were the kind of guys that really made war seem like a fun time.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaku replied, “They made it look like something we should aspire to. I almost joined up with Date myself, but...when folks from the Date came around enlisting able-bodied men, I took off so my mom wouldn’t have to see her only son die for the sake of some egotist who just wanted more land for himself. I wonder how she’s doing...?”

“That’s the thing about these generals and daimyo,” Naofumi shrugged, “They shine brighter by standing on the backs of their soldiers.”

“Oda was a complete monster, though,” Matazaemon grumbled. “All of his inner circle were. Moment I got news Akechi killed him, I took the opportunity to turn tail while everyone was scrambling around. Never looked back.”

“Similar to my story,” Sadanobu nodded, “Hideyoshi was a creep...even standing near him put me on edge. And his supporters weren’t any better.” He leaned forward, looking down into the fire. “I remember one day, when I was training...apparently his general, Ishida, didn’t think I was making enough progress. By some mercy, he kept his sword sheathed, but he beat me with the sheathed weapon in some twisted attempt to strengthen me. All it did was strengthen my resolve to get the hell out of there soon as I could. Glad he’s dead.”

“Is he, though?” Naofumi raised an eyebrow. “I thought it wasn’t confirmed.”

“He and his family were in Osaka castle when some folks raided it after he lost Sekigahara. The whole place went up in flames; there’s no way an impulsive guy like that had any escape plan to get out of there undetected. There were so many burnt corpses in the castle afterward once the fire was under control; he had to be among them. He wouldn’t have run. He never ran.”

Naofumi closed his eyes in thought. “Maybe. There’s always a chance.”

“Don’t even start. I don’t wanna think about the possibility that that asshole’s still out there somewhere. And even if he is...he’d never willingly show his face again.”

The wind seemed to whisper above them. And a rumbling came from the woods around them.

“What was that?” Naofumi looked up, now apprehensive.

“Probably just an animal attracted to the light,” Gaku reached toward the fire, grabbing a burning hunk of wood from it as he stood up. “Wave this around a little bit and they’ll be gone. I’ll do it.”

Gaku turned from the group, heading through the brush, waving the burning wood around to light his path. Big, dramatic steps and stomps to intimidate whatever was near, his companions watching from afar.

Then, his head perked up, as if he spotted something. But before he could speak a word, he let out a choked-off cry, the flame dropping and going out.

“Gaku!” Matazaemon cried out as the group stood up, on high alert. Then, the loud thumps of quick but heavy footsteps, and a vicious bark and snarl, as a large, white blur lunged forward, biting Matazaemon by the arm; the force knocked him to the ground as he felt the arm pop out of place. He howled a mix of pain and fear.

Naofumi stared in shock and horror at the large wolf now viciously yanking Matazaemon to and fro like a rag doll, blood soaking its teeth and maw. But Matazaemon’s screams finally snapped him to attention as he pulled out his knife, plunging it toward the beast’s side in a panic.

He missed the stab, but the blade did slice the wolf’s side, as it let go of his friend and instantly turned on him; its jaw snapped open, going for his throat, and as he fell back, he looked to Sadanobu for help.

But Sadanobu had fled. Even as the wolf snarled and tore into him, Naofumi could hear footsteps approaching, and hear something slice into Matazaemon, silencing his howls of agony.

Sadanobu blindly pushed his way through the brush, his face a mix of fear, of terror, of snot and spit, while he tried to process that he was alone now, on this mountain, at night.

The Beast of the Mountain was real! That was no ordinary wolf! That thing...that thing was a monster! So fast, so strong! He had to leave its territory.

He had to get down the mountain.

He tripped in his panic, falling and rolling a ways, before finally sliding to a stop, staring up at the break in the treetops to see the moon. He began to sit up, but froze.

Footsteps. Two feet.

He began to hyperventilate, wondering if the beast had changed form, to come after *him.*

But the moon began to make his pursuer visible. And he could see those thin, angry eyes glaring down at him.

Those thin, angry eyes from all those years ago.

And he began to wail.

“IT’S YOU—“

SPLURCH!

That one slice caused his insides to burst out of him, as he fell back, gurgling his final sounds, the world around him becoming black.

....

And Ishida Mitsunari flicked the blood off his old sword before sheathing it again. His intuition had been correct; the noise and dim light he saw from his home wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him; someone had the audacity, once again, to venture that high up the mountain. And they needed to be dealt with swiftly, before he risked them finding him.

Grabbing the body by the leg, he began to drag it back with him toward the campfire. As he did, he whistled a short whistle, as the snarls and barks from before were replaced by panting; he found the wolfdog standing by the other two bodies, his curled tail twitching in satisfaction. Dropping the first body’s leg, Mitsunari knelt down.

“Come here. Let me see.”

The dog padded forward, allowing Mitsunari to get a closer look. Removing his right glove (revealing a hand scarred from burns), he ran a hand along the wound in the dog’s side; the dog let out a small whimper, but didn’t panic.

“...it’ll scar, but it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, “We’ll treat it when we get back home. Good work, Shiranui.”

His children had named the dog when he brought the pup back to their home two years prior, having found the pup attempting to steal one of the pheasants he had hunted. Now fully grown, it was clear the dog took mostly wolf traits...but, at his core, Shiranui had always been a loyal dog...especially to his master.

Once certain the wound wasn’t serious, Mitsunari turned his attention to the bodies. Retrieving the last one from a ways away, he wasted no time rifling through their pockets and satchels for supplies. Medicine, food, tools...anything usable, he gathered into the largest bag. As he came across the sack containing their ill-gotten gains, he pondered the contents for a bit...before shaking his head. He had no need for any of this. Gold and the like wouldn’t keep them alive. Wouldn’t keep them safe.

One by one, he dragged each body a ways up to the cliffs, before rolling each body over the edge with one smooth motion, watching them get swallowed by the darkness below as he listened to the impact of them striking the cliff side, the stones, the tree branches....and lastly, he tossed the sack of treasures, too. Good fortune to whomever finds them, he supposed. It didn’t matter to him either way. Either way, the Beast of the Mountain had maintained its status as something to be feared.

Returning to the camp and snuffing out the fire, he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, before looking to Shiranui’s bloodied face.

“Let’s wash your face before we go back.” His wife hated when the dog came back from its hunts and meals looking like that.

After stopping by the stream to clean off the dog’s face and wash the wound a bit, they began their quiet trek back home, their loot in hand. Nearly three years of this life...and sometimes, it was still wildly unfamiliar to him.

He should have died at Sekigahara. He should have taken his life when he failed to avenge his lord.

He should have.

But he didn’t.

Now he was a spent match; the fire of battle had long left him, and now he was smoke, drifting about his new life, though sometimes, that little fire would come back. Sometimes, he would remember why he lived.

Off the beaten path, past the troublesome terrain, there stood a small house. His house. It was no Sawayama, it was no Osaka Castle, but it was home. And it was here that he quietly slid open the door, only to flinch slightly, startled by the shape of his wife’s feet in the moonlight shining through the door. In her arms, the smallest of his children, his only daughter, little Tatsuhime, fast asleep and undisturbed.

“...how close were they?” his wife asked in the softest of voices.

“Close enough to be a problem,” he replied. She could tell he was willfully omitting details. Details that would distress or upset her. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate further. Other than, “Shiranui’s hurt. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She gave a quiet nod, quietly vanishing into the tiny hallway, as she, too, was swallowed by darkness.

Mitsunari retrieved a cloth, taking a seat against the wall and beckoning the dog over; Shiranui obeyed, laying down as Mitsunari pressed the cloth against the wound. The dog rested his head on his master’s lap, while Mitsunari rested his own head against the wall.

He could faintly hear the rustling of his wife setting Tatsuhime down to sleep; undoubtedly between her two older brothers. His wife was then rustling into bed as well.

He didn’t know when he’d sleep.

But until then, he’d remember why he lived.

[collegeburnoutsuperstar]

Social Distancing Book Recs

I’ve been getting tons of book recommendations from friends and family to help get through social distancing/self-quarantine, so I thought I should share some of my favorite books with everybody!

Horror/Apocalyptic: *all books are ADULT*

- The Stand by Stephen King “This is the way the world ends: with a nanosecond of computer error in a Defense Department laboratory and a million casual contacts that form the links in a chain letter of death. And here is the bleak new world of the day after: a world stripped of its institutions and emptied of 99 percent of its people. A world in which a handful of panicky survivors choose sides -- or are chosen” (Goodreads Summary).

- Inferno by Dan Brown “Harvard professor of symbology Robert Langdon awakens in an Italian hospital, disorientated and with no recollection of the past thirty-six hours, including the origin of the macabre object hidden in his belongings. With a relentless female assassin tailing them through Florence, he and his resourceful doctor, Sienna Brooks, are forced to flee. Embarking on a harrowing journey, they must unravel a series of codes, which are the work of a brilliant scientist whose obsession with the end of the world is matched only by his passion for one of the most influential masterpieces ever written, Dante Alighieri’s The Inferno” (Goodreads Summary).

- World War Z by Max Brooks “The Zombie War came unthinkably close to eradicating humanity. Max Brooks, driven by the urgency of preserving the acid-etched first-hand experiences of the survivors from those apocalyptic years, traveled across the United States of America and throughout the world, form decimated cities that once teemed with upwards of thirty million souls to the most remote and inhospitable areas of the planet. He recorded the testimony of men, women, and sometimes children who came face-to-face with the living, or at least the undead, hell of that dreadful time. World War Z is the result. Never before have we had access to a document that so powerfully conveys the depth of fear and horror, and also the ineradicable spirit of resistance, that gripped human society through the plague years” (Goodreads summary).

- It by Stephen King “It’s a small city, a place as hauntingly familiar as your own hometown. Only in Derry the haunting is real... They were seven teenagers when they first stumbled upon the horror. Now they are grown-up men and women who have gone out into the big world to gain success and happiness. But none of them can withstand the force that has drawn them back to Derry to face the nightmare without an end, and the evil without a name” (Goodreads summary).

- The Shining by Stephen King “Jack Torrance’s new job at the Overlook Hotel is the perfect chance for a fresh start. As the off-season caretaker at the atmospheric old hotel, he’ll have plenty of time to spend reconnecting with his family and working on his writing. But as the harsh winter weather sets in, the idyllic locations feels ever more remote... and more sinister. And the only one to notice the strange and terrible forces gathering around the Overlook is Danny Torrance, a uniquely gifted five-year-old” (Goodreads summary).

- House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski “[House of Leaves] focuses on a young family that moves into a small home on Ash Tree Lane where they discover something is terribly wrong: their house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Of course, neither Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Will Navidson nor his companion Karen Green was prepared to face the consequences of the impossibility, until the day their two little children wandered off and their voices eerily began to return another story -- of creature darkness, of an ever-growing abyss behind a closet door, and of the unholy growl which soon enough would tear through their walls and consume all their dreams” (Goodreads summary).

Comedy:

- Good Omens by Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett “People have been predicting the end of the world almost from its very beginning, so it’s only natural to be skeptical when a new date is set for Judgement Day. But what if, for once, the predictions are right, and the apocalypse really is due to arrive next Saturday, just after tea? You could spend the time left drowning your sorrows, giving away all your possessions in preparation for the rapture, or laughing it off as (hopefully) just another hoax. Or you could just try to do something about it. It’s a predicament that Aziraphale, a somewhat fussy angel, and Crowley, a fast-living demon now finds themselves in. They’ve been living amongst Earth’s mortals since The Beginning and, truth be told, have grown rather fond of the lifestyle and, in all honesty, are not actually looking forward to the coming Apocalypse. And then there’s the small matter that someone appears to have misplaced the Antichrist... “ (Goodreads summary).

- Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan *PG-13* Dad is Fat is a comedic memoir that details Jim Gaffigan’s life growing up in a large Catholic family to his experiences as a husband and father (specifically parenting his five young children while living in a tiny walk-up apartment in New York). I highly recommend the audiobook (which is narrated by Jim Gaffigan), my family and I always listen to it during road trips. It never stops being funny. 

- Bored of the Rings: A Parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings by The Harvard Lampoon *ADULT* “A quest, a war, a ring that would be grounds for calling any wedding off, a king without a kingdom, and a little, furry ‘hero’ named Frito, ready -- or maybe just forced by the wizard of Goodgulf-- to undertake the one mission which can save Lower Middle Earth from enslavement by the evil Sorhed… Luscious Elfmaidens, a roller-skating dragon, ugly plants that can soul-kiss the unwary to death-- these are just some of the ingredients in the wildest, wackiest, most irreverent excursion into fantasy realms that anyone has ever dared to undertake” (Goodreads summary).

Middle-Grade:

- Percy Jackson and the Olympians series by Rick Riordan (book 1: The Lightning Thief) “Percy Jackson is a good kid, but he can’t seem to focus on his schoolwork or control his temper. And lately, being away at boarding school is only getting worse - Percy could have sworn his pre-algebra teacher turned into a monster and tried to kill him. When Percy’s mom finds out, she knows it’s time that he knew the truth about where he came from, and that he go to the one place he’ll be safe. She sends Percy to Camp Half Blood, a summer camp for demigods. Soon a mystery unfolds and together with his friends-- one a satyr and the other the demigod daughter of Athena-- Percy sets out on a quest across the United States to reach the gates of the Underworld and prevent a catastrophic war between the gods” (Goodreads summary).

- The Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordan (book 1: The Lost Hero) “Jason has a problem. He doesn’t remember anything before waking up in a bus full of kids on a field trip. Apparently he has a girlfriend named Piper, and a best friend named Leo. They’re all students at a boarding school for ‘bad kids.’ What id Jason do to end up here? And where is here, exactly? Piper has a secret. Her father has been missing for three days, ever since she had that terrifying nightmare about his being in trouble. Piper doesn’t understand her dream, or why her boyfriend suddenly doesn’t recognize her. When a freak storm hits during the school trip, unleashing strange creatures and whisking her, Jason, and Leo away to someplace called Camp Half-Blood, she has a feeling she’s going to find out. Leo has a way with tools. When he sees his cabin at Camp Half-Blood, filled with power tools and machine parts, he feels right at home. But there’s weird stuff, too-- like the curse everyone keeps talking about, and some camper who’s gone missing. Weirdest of all, his bunkmates insist that each of them--including Leo-- is related to a god. Does this have anything to do with Jason’s amnesia, or the fact that Leo keeps seeing ghosts?” (Goodreads summary)

- The Children of the Red King series by Jenny Nimmo (book 1: Midnight for Charlie Bone) “Charlie Bone has a special gift-- he can hear people in photographs talking! The fabulous powers of the Red King were passed down through his descendants, after turning up quite unexpectedly, in someone who had no idea where they came from. This is what happened to Charlie Bone, and to some of the children he met behind the grim, gray walls of Bloor’s Academy. His scheming aunts decide to send him to Bloor’s Academy, a school for geniuses where he uses his grifts to discover the truth despite all the dangers that lie ahead” (Goodreads summary).

- Things Not Seen by Andrew Clements “Bobby Phillips is an average fifteen-year-old boy. Until the morning he wakes up and can’t see himself in the mirror. Not blind, not dreaming. Bobby is just plain invisible... There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to Bobby’s new conditions; even his dad the physicist can’t figure it out. For Bobby that means no school, no friends, no life. He’s a missing person” (Goodreads summary).

Science Fiction:

- Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick *Adult*  “It was January 2021, and Rick Deckard had a license to kill. Somewhere among the hordes of humans out there, lurked several rogue androids. Deckard’s assignment-- find them and then... ‘retire’ them. Trouble was, the androids all looked exactly like humans, and they didn’t want to be found!” (Goodreads summary).

- Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton * Suitable for Young Adults* “An astonishing technique for recovering and cloning dinosaur DNA has been discovered. Now humankind’s most thrilling fantasies have come true. Creatures extinct for eons roam Jurassic Park with their awesome presence and profound mystery, and all the world can visit them-- for a price. Until something goes wrong...” (Goodreads summary). 

Fantasy:

- The Magicians trilogy by Lev Grossman *ADULT* (book 1: The Magicians) “Quentin Coldwater is brilliant but miserable. A senior in high school, he’s still secretly preoccupied with a series of fantasy novels he read as a child, set in a magical land called Fillory. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself unexpectedly admitted to a very secret, very exclusive college of magic in upstate New York, where he receives a thorough and rigorous education in the craft of modern sorcery. He also discovers all the other things people learn in college: friendship, love, sex, booze, and boredom. Something is missing, though. Magic doesn’t bring Quentin the happiness and adventure he dreamed it would. After graduation he and his friends make a stunning discovery: Fillory is real. But the land of Quentin’s fantasies turns out to be much darker and more dangerous than he could have imagined. His childhood dream becomes a nightmare with a shocking truth at its heart” (Goodreads summary).

- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater *YA* (book 1: The Raven Boys) “What do you know about Welsh kings?” This incredibly atmospheric story centers on a seemingly random group of teens as they uncover the mysterious and magical secrets of their small Virginia town.

- A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab *Suitable for Young Adults* “Kell is one of the last Antari-- magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black. Kell was raised in Arnes-- Red London-- and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III  in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see. Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they’ll never see. After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure. Now perilous magic is afoot, and treacher lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they’ll first need to stay alive” (Goodreads summary).

- The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien *Suitable for middle-grade through adult* “In ancient times the Rings of Power were crafted by the Elven-smiths, and Sauron, the Dark Lord. forged the One Ring, filling it with his own power so that he could rule all others. But the One Ring was taken form him, and though he sought it throughout Middle-earth, it remained lost to him. After many ages it fell by chance into the hands of the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. When Bilbo reached his eleventy-first birthday he disappeared, bequeathing to his young cousin Frodo the Ruling Ring and a perilous quest: to journey across Middle-earth, deep into the shadow of the Dark Lord, and destroy the Ring by casting it into the Cracks of Doom” (Goodreads summary).

- The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss *Adult* “Told in Kvothe’s own voice, this is the tale of the magically gifted young man who grows to be the most notorious wizard his world has ever seen. The intimate narrative of his childhood in a troupe of traveling players, his years spent as a near-feral orphan in a crime-ridden city, his daringly brazen yet successful bit to enter a legendary school of magic, and his life as a fugitive, and his life as a fugitive after the murder of a king form a gripping coming-of-age story” (Goodreads summary).

- The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch *Adult* “An orphan’s life is harsh-- and often short-- in the mysterious island city of Camorr. But youge Locke Lamora dodges death and slavery, becoming a thief under the tutelage of a gifted con artist. As leader of the band of light-fingered brothers known as the Gentleman Bastards, Loke is soon infamous, fooling even the underworld’s most feared ruler. But in the shadows lurks someone still more ambitious and deadly. Faced with a bloody coup that threatens to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the enemy at his own brutal game-- or die trying” (Goodreads summary).

Fiction:

- The Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich *ADULT mystery-thrillers/romance* (book 1: One for the Money) “You’ve lost your job as a department store lingerie buyer, your car’s been repossessed, and most of your furniture and small appliances have been sold off to pay last month’s rent. Now the rent is due again. And you live in New Jersey. What do you do? If you’re Stephanie Plum, you become a bounty hunter. But not just a nickel-and-dime bounty hunter; you go after the big money. That means a cop gone bad. And not just any cop. She goes after Joe Morelli, a disgraced former vice cop who is also the man who took Stephanie’s virginity at age 16 and the wrote details on a bathroom wall. With pride and rent money on the line, Plum plunges headlong into her first case, one that pits her against ruthless adversaries - people who’d rather kill than lose” (Goodreads summary).

- The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown *Adult* “While in Paris, Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon is awakened by a phone call in the dead of the night. The elderly curator of the Louvre has been murdered inside the museum, his body covered in baffling symbols. As Langdon and gifted French cryptologist Sophie Neveu sort through the bizarre riddles, they are stunned to discover a trail of clues hidden in the works of Leonardo da Vinci-- clues visible for all to see and yet ingeniously disguised by the painter. Even more startling, the late curator was involved in the Priory of Sion-- a secret society whose members included Sir Isaac Newton, Victory Hugo, and Da Vici-- and he guarded a breathtaking historical secret. Unless Landon and Neveu can decipher the labyrinthine puzzle-- while avoiding the faceless adversary who shadows their every move-- the explosive, ancient truth will be lost forever” (Goodreads summary).

- Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle *Adult* Sherlock Holmes stories are always fun when stuck at home.

- 11/22/63 by Stephen King *Adult* “Life can turn on a dime-- or stumble into the extraordinary, as it does for Jake Epping, a high school English teacher in Lisbon Falls, Maine. While grading essays by his GED students, Jake reads a gruesome, enthralling piece penned by janitor Harry Dunning: fifty years ago, Harry somehow survived his father’s sledgehammer slaughter of his entire family, Jake is blown away... but an even more bizarre secret comes to light when Jake’s friend Al, owner of the local diner, enlists Jake to take over the mission that has become his obsession-- to prevent the Kennedy assassination. How? By stepping through a portal in the diner’s storeroom, and into the ear of Ike and Elvis, or big American cars, sock hops, and cigarette smoke... Finding himself in warmhearted Jodie, Texas, Jake begins a new life. But all turns in the road lead to a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald. The course of history is about to be rewritten... and become heart-stoppingly suspenseful” (Goodreads summary).

Non-Fiction:

- The Men Who Stare at Goats by Jon Ronson *Adult* “In 1979 a secret unit was established by the most gifted minds within the U.S. Army. Defying all known accepted military practice-- and indeed, the laws of physics-- they believed that a soldier could adopt a cloak of invisibility, pass cleanly through walls, and, perhaps most chillingly, kill goats just by staring at them. Entrusted with defending America from all known adversaries, they were the First Earth Battalion. And they really weren’t joking. What’s more, they’re back and fighting the War on Terror. With firsthand access to the leading players in the story, Ronson traces the evolution of these bizarre activities over the past three decades and shows how they are alive today within the U.S. Department of Homeland Security and in postwar Iraq. Why are they blasting Iraqi prisoners of war with the theme tune to Barney the Purple Dinosaur? Why have 100 debleated goats been secretly placed inside the Special Forces Command Center at Fort Bragg, North Carolina? How was the U.S. military associated with the mysterious mass suicide of a strange cult form San Diego? The Men Who Stare at Goats answers these and many more questions” (Goodreads summary).

- Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert *Adult* (I recommend listening to the audiobook, which is narrated by Elizabeth Gilbert) “To recover from [an early midlife crisis, divorce, and depression], Gilbert took a radical step. In order to give herself the time and space to find out who she really was and what she really wanted, she got rid of her belongings, quit her job, and undertook a yearlong journey around the world-- all alone. Eat, Pray, Love is the absorbing chronicle of that year. Her aim was to visit three places where she could examine one aspect of her own nature set against the backdrop of a culture that has traditionally done that one thing very well. In Rome, she studied the art of pleasure, learning to speak Italian and gaining the twenty-three happiest pounds of her life. India was for the art of devotion, and with the help of a native guru and a surprisingly wise cowboy from Texas, she embarked on four uninterrupted months of spiritual exploration. In Bali, she studied the art of balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence. She became the pupil of an elderly medicine man and also fell in love the best way-- unexpectedly” (Goodreads summary).

[youngdreamer3214]

Oooooh can you do prompt #8 with Nightwing/Raven

8. “I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Thank you for requesting. I hope you like this.

Hurt/ Comfort and Fluff

Assume standard disclaimer.

It began as a whisper in the air, almost as if the calm before the storm. Clouds had been decorating the sky the entire day, almost like teasing the ground below not defining when they would let the soil come to life again with the rain only they could provide. When suddenly the clouds started to darken, sky turning in the darkest shade of blue almost black which contrasted with the bright, colorful lightening which started its intricate dance in the sky; the sky its stage and the thunderous roars its music.

Just like that, a storm was brewing.

A little far away, on an island another storm was brewing but this storm was inside a specific ‘T’ shaped tower, a storm of emotions willing to swallow the inhabitants of the tower  whole, mirroring the one brewing outside.

“What do you want from me, Raven?” Richard yelled at the purple haired hero in frustration, his eyes laced with tears and his heart constricting in his chest painfully. A few lamps shattered in the background but he paid no mind to it, his entire focus was on the woman in front of him.

Even after defeating her father and gaining control of her emotions, she still has outbursts like these when she is experiencing very strong emotions; her emotions mixed with the ones she is feeling from the man in front of her caused the dark haired beauty to lose control of her emotions.

She didn’t say anything, her face remained stoic but her amethyst eyes spoke volumes, they reflected every emotion she was feeling but hiding from the man, her leader when they were teenagers and now a very close friend.

Richard groaned and ran his hand through his hair tiredly while he took the sight of the enchantress in, for the umpteenth time that evening. Her now long dark raisin hair, framing her face in such a way that he wondered if it was normal to be jealous of hair for they could touch what he dreamt about holding. Her glassy amethyst eyes telling him that she was feeling everything he was too, that she was not as stoic and unemotional as she appeared to be.  

“Why Raven...After all this time, why?” He asked in a voice just above a whisper, a contrast from the loud volume his voice had just adapted to, not a couple moments before.

Raven looked at him and almost forgot to breathe with the sight of him in front of her. Every time she looked at him she could feel her heart beating faster, he was so devastatingly handsome with his deep blue eyes, which never wavered from her, a warm smile which illuminated her dark mood every time she saw it and his dark locks which she wanted to run her hand through.

But it was not just his looks which drew her in, it was his personality, the way he gained her trust, made her feel safe, trusted her even in her darkest hour, traveled to the fiery depths of hell with his arch nemesis just to get her become.

How would she not fall for him…

After denying her feeling for a quite a while, she accepted them and resolved to tell him but timing was not on her side. He had just gotten together with Kori, so she tried to move on, tried to disregard the hurt she felt every time she saw the both of them together but it increased with each encounter, it felt like somebody had shoved a dagger through her heart.

S0 she fell back into herself, avoided him as much as she could; tried to hide the hurt and the loneliness and she thought she was doing a good job of that but she couldn’t fool two people, Nightwing and Beastboy.

Nightwing, then Robin couldn’t understand why his best friend was avoiding him and he couldn’t help but feel hurt when he noticed her spending time with the green shape shifter who understood what she was feeling.

The changeling and the empath became unlikely companions, with him getting over the pain of seeing Terra again, who did not recognise him and Raven getting over seeing her best friend with the one she loves. Both were trying to move on.

Nightwing couldn’t understand the jealousy and hurt he felt every time he saw Raven hanging out with the changeling, spending time with him and giving him her rare smiles. He didn’t understand his feelings till he was caught by Cyborg who saw him giving a murderous look to Beastboy who was convincing Raven to try his tofu, both of them were laughing.

Cyborg explained to him and he realized that he was in love with Raven, he wanted to approach Raven but he knew that he had to talk to Starfire first, it would only be fair.

Fortunately Starfire understood and told him that she loved him but was not in love with him and that they would still remain friends, they both had needed to be together for a while before they could realize the difference of loving someone and being in love with someone; Tamaranians had a deep understanding about emotions, more than humans do.

He was grateful that he had a friend like her and after a lot of urging from her side he told her about his feelings for Raven and was shocked when she was delighted for them.

He wanted to approach the young empath but always held himself back in the fear of rejection; he thought that the empath was romantically involved and it was natural to assume so with the time they spent together also.  

So he opted for a way in which he would not have to fear her to reject his feelings and if she didn’t have feelings for him then he wouldn’t like a complete fool in front of his best friend and his friendship with her would remain intact without any weirdness.

The titans were moving on with their lives; new young heroes were coming in to take their place. Kori was going back to Tamaran for a couple of years; she felt a little homesick but promised to come back as soon as she could, Cyborg was now working with the League and Beastboy was staying back to train the new heroes.

Robin had donned his new alias, Nightwing with his younger brother taking his current one; he was moving to a new city and becoming a solo vigilante or a duo if she would agree.

He wanted to ask Raven to come with him, he knew that she was still pondering over what to do next and he hoped that maybe he could try for her to come with him.

He asked her with so much hope in his eyes that all the half demon wanted to do was say yes, drop everything and leave with him, the man she still loved but she couldn’t, she had promised the changeling that she would stay with him, her promise did not let her say yes to the man, her and Changeling had formed a companionship, he had been there for her when she needed someone and he had done his best to lift her spirits whenever she was feeling sad or whenever she saw Robin and Starfire together.

They were not romantically involved but the unlikely friendship that had formed between them did not allow Raven to abandon Beastboy, when he was alone; she knew that he was sad that everyone was moving on and this was time for her to be there for him just like he had been there for her.

So she declined Nightwing’s offer, leaving him with a broken heart and the assumption that she was dating Beastboy. He left the very next day, realizing that he was too late and that her heart belonged to someone else.

Over the course of a few years, Raven and Nightwing remained cordial with each other, they tried to move on and date other people but their hearts belonged to each other, only they both were stubborn and did not speak to each other about this, only taking each other’s whereabouts through their friends.

Finally Beastboy convinced Raven to reveal her feelings to the boy wonder and now here they were after she told him that she wants to go with him, if the offer he gave her 3 years ago was still available.

Nightwing was surprised by her change of mind, he was happy but the pain which had gathered in his heart in these years had come to his lips and he couldn’t stop them to be bare in front of the empath.

“Because I want to be with you.” She said taking a step towards him, not answering his first question; when all she wanted to shout was that she only wanted him and his love.

He took a step back, this action of his hurt her but she didn’t say anything; she knew how many emotions he had bottled up just like she had and it was important for them get everything out in the open before they move on together.

“Why now, Raven? Why not three years ago? When I asked you to come with me then?” Nightwing asked hurt from her rejection surfacing. A little anger also started blooming in his heart, angry that someone who was not him had her heart, angry that because someone else took his place.

“Richard I-” She started but was interrupted by him.

“Is it because I am your last option?”

She was a little shocked by his angry question, but before she could say anything more, he started speaking again actually not giving her time to reply.

“Why do you want to be with me?”

“Why, Raven?”

“Why?”

“Tell me!”

Before he could speak again, Raven angered by his question said in a loud voice “I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear?” Suddenly everything stopped, the storm of emotions surrounding them fell silent it was almost like they were the eye of the storm.

“Because if you did then yes, I love you Richard John Grayson.”

She was angry now and started taking walking towards him, who was standing on the other side of the room, her room actually, shocked by her confession; his brain almost crashed and it was taking time for him to process her information.

“I couldn’t come with you because my friend needed me, the one friend who brought me out of my shell, the one who was there for me when I was struggling with my feelings for you needed me…so tell me how could I abandon him.”

“F-feelings for m-me?” he asked, the information slowly seeping in him. His heart was bursting with joy and all he desired was to kiss her senseless but it seemed as if the rest of his body was slow to catch up.

“Yes, wonder boy I have liked you since I was 17.” She said blushing a little. He smiled at seeing her pink face and completed the distance between them taking her hands in his, losing himself in her amethyst eyes and asked “Why didn’t you tell me Rae?”

“You were dating Kori then Richard.” She said softly.

“I broke up with her because I realized that while I loved Kori, I was in love with you Raven.” He admitted softly while lifted her hands to place kisses on them, making her heart beat faster with his confession and her face turn red.

“Was?” She teased and his smile got wider, he left her hands only to wrap his arms around her waist while she squealed a little and placed her hands on his chest feeling his muscles flex, pulling her close to him, inhaling her intoxicating vanilla and lilac scent. He leaned down to look into her eyes and said with all emotion he could muster knowing that she would be able to feel them “I love you Raven…I am in love with you.”

“I am in love with you too.” She confessed earnestly, her eyes flashing with all the love she has for him. With that his lips came down to hers and white hot lightning surged through both of their veins.

The storm which came as a threat swallow them whole now become a witness to the union of two souls, two birds of one feather, who yearned for each other and now were finally one.

[leechangjoons]

Cascade the Flute (TK:EM Fic)

Now you must be wondering why I’m writing fic for this when I don’t even go here. 

It’s simple. I wasn’t given enough Lee Jungjin, and KES can suck my dick for her ableist cop-out. 

With a billion parallel universes out there, the half of the flute Manpasikjeok Rim carries chooses one of his unwitting victims: the paralysed, mute copy of himself in modern day Korea, who reacts to his equally royal bloodline. 

Republic of Korea, 1994

This was supposed to be quick and dirty, Rim sighed as he stalked into the house. He easily located the limp man in the wheelchair, dirty and disheveled, his limbs sagged and moaning unintelligibly. 

He was disgusted at this. Of course his copy would be this downtrodden cripple who couldn’t even defend himself. Rim’d done his research about matters: he’d been a history professor who specialised in artefacts not unlike the Manpasikjeok before his good-for-nothing brother wasted away the family fortune, and an unexplained fall in the college he’d been working out of left him in this state. 

As he reached over to start choking the other man, the half of the Manpasikjeok with him began to vibrate, before it glowed. Seongjae’s hand reached out, his eyes gaining a glint of hope seeing the object he’d done extensive research on respond to him, and without warning, the chunk of flute darted from his hand and towards Seongjae’s. Rim cursed, a snarl forming across his face as he shifted to taking the gun out instead. 

“I was going to make this painless, but you force my hand,” he growled, and Seongjae examined the flute. Like Rim, he easily cloaked himself in a glow, his limp body responding to the flute’s movements more than it being voluntary. The gleam from the flute engulfed him, and Seongjae vanished- with the flute in hand from the room. 

“Seongjae-ah--” came another voice, and Rim took this opportunity to make his getaway. He had his own power to replicate the portals, but first...he needed to hunt down the person who’d stolen the flute under his nose. He clicked the gun’s safety back on, sliding it into his coat before heading out on his own. He had other things to put into motion. This was only a small setback. 

----- 

The Blue House, Korea(?), 2020 

The president was greeted by some of her guards regarding an intruder who’d fallen from seemingly space, clutching a half of some sort of flute tightly in his right hand but unable to respond to them because he couldn’t speak. The woman in shades flourished her hand with a sigh, making her way over to the holding area to see how she could help. Alongside her followed a smug, wheelchair-using man, a tablet in hand as he turned towards his companion with a smirk. 

“What should we do, Yoonah-noona,” he asked, following her towards the cell and peering in with curiosity, “Oh fuck, you will not believe this.” 

Seongjae stared back, before his eyes too widened seeing a second copy of himself stare at him. This one seemed...cordial. Calm, though with the spirit of a prankster in him, and the man shook his head furiously in concern and worry. He couldn’t move (curse the fact that he was locked inside his head this way) but managed another small moan of distress. 

The president turned to her companion, smiling gently. “Well, if he’s you, Sungwon-sshi, then won’t it be your business to return him where he belongs?” she commented with a wave of her hand, “I trust you, though. I’m sure you’d know what to do.” She followed the rest of the guards back upstairs, and as the tapping of her cane receded, Sungwon leant forward with an air of concern seeing himself look so disheveled. 

“I’m Sungwon, great to meet you,” he introduced, and Seongjae nearly burst into tears seeing the lack of pity or murderous intent in his eyes saying this, “We’ll fix you up with something you can use to talk to us, ok? I’m pretty good with electronics, I can get you an eye-controlled word board you can type words out of so it’s easier for you to talk. A wheelchair, of course, once we get a full body examination.” 

Sungwon grinned again, with all the confidence Seongjae lacked after years of being an invalid. “Whatever happens, I’m booking you out of there. I don’t know how you’re going to use that flute when it’s broken like that, but hey, don’t question the messenger, eh?” he laughed, before looking back towards Seongjae once more, “Now don’t give me that look. Where’d you travel from, the caveman age? It’s 2020! We can help you plenty now!” 

Seongjae’s eyes widened immediately at this. He’d time traveled 26 years into the future? Whatever would Jihoon and his mother say? They were probably worried as hell about him right now. He managed another confused moan, eyes darting from side to side at the indication before remembering the cards in his pocket Shinhye’d left in there in case he’d been left outside too long. That should help shed some light on his identity. 

At this, Sungwon nodded and easily scanned the card key to let himself in. “Let’s get you a clean change of clothes, a haircut and maybe some gel to make you look as awesome as me,” he chuckled, parting Seongjae’s fringe to reveal his bright eyes, which slid downwards towards his pants, “You’re in there somewhere. I trust you can tell me who you are and where you’re from.” 

His hand trailed towards it, carefully picking out the cards. “Lee Seongjae, born 1950...wait a diddly darn minute, you’re not even from this part of the woods, and you’re supposed to be seventy?!” he declared, waving his arms in annoyance, “I wish I looked like this when I’m 70!” Seongjae scoffed at this, trying to indicate he didn’t have much of a choice before watching Sungwon rifle through his own pockets. 

Seongjae squinted at Sungwon’s own identification, not only realising how much younger he was (dear lord, he was only 43 while he was supposedly 70). Where the fuck was this Republic of Korea, and why did they seem so much more advanced? 

[dapper-ships-herself]

I've mentioned before that I have a fairy tail oc, and I wanted to introduce him!

I will preface this with the why of his creation, it's the result of me getting kind of meta with my Erza ship, cause it's very doubtful that the creator of fairy tail would go in to the series intending to make a wlw ship canon, and all the main characters kind of have their boy/girl match ups, so I started thinking what would my s/i's intended love interest be like, before mine and Erza's romantic tension became too much to deny.

Lumen Judge

He has two versions, one for each version of my s/i, the first is admittedly currently a bit more thought out than the second.

(His tattoo is actually white ink.)

His first backstory ties him in to the library backstory of my s/i. In that backstory, she is from far back in the past and was trapped in an out of time library for ages because her whole village thought she was a demon. After casting her out though, the village leader, her grandfather, was overthrown by the patriarch of another high level family within the village, on the basis that the former chief's whole bloodline could now no longer be trusted after producing such a creature. This family that became the leaders of the village, was the Judge family. This patriarch was power hungry, and in addition to getting power over the village, he wanted the freedom to use the magical items locked away by the chief. But, the villagers were all still very much afraid of magic, so he needed an excuse.

He told everyone that he knew that the evil they had locked away within the library would not stay defeated, and that she would one day return to wreck havoc on the world, so he assembled a small team who would oh so humbly take the necessary sacrifice and allow themselves to come into contact with magic by wielding these magic items and they would dedicate their lives to the defeat of evil. Over the generations, even as the village eventually faded, the group remained, always lead by a member of the Judge family, it's members only allowed to be people who use holder type magic even after times changed and people weren't afraid of magic anymore. They think of themselves as a secret group who remains in the shadows for the sake of the light. Their core mission has never been forgotten, they must await the arrival of a great evil demoness who will one day awaken to destroy the whole world... The details were exaggerated a bit like a long game of telephone. By the time it gets to Lumen, the story is told as one day their village was attacked by Gillian and her horde of demons who lay waste to the land, and it was after his daughter Rimis was slain by her that Rimis's father, the first leader of their organization, bravely fought her and managed to weaken her enough to lock her away within the library, and he founded the group to prevent anyone from having to feel his loss ever again.

While the organization was, unknown to it's current members, founded on greed, they genuinely believe in their cause of riding the world of evil, and none buy into it more than Lumen himself.

He's an earnest young man who cares about his comrades deeply. He loves to laugh and be friendly. He has the demeanor of a true gentle man, and he's a bit of a romantic.

The device that locked her in the library has a glow from within the gemstone inlaid on it whenever it's able to be used again, and so it was known the minute she freed herself. Their group had been trying to track her ever since. Lumen's father is the leader at this time.

It takes so long to find her because there's no sort of tracking function, they only know the general area of where she popped back into the world, but she'd managed to wander a good distance from there before finding fairy tail.

This arc becomes about preventing them from relocking Gillian in the library, where she'd have to reread the vast collection in order to be free again, which would likely take another thousand years or so.

It's over the course of this arc that lumen and Gillian clash, her more reluctantly than him. He becomes more and more confused though, she seems like a regular, kind girl, not some great evil, but his father keeps telling him that she's trying to trick him the same as she's clearly tricked these "friends" of hers in to fighting by her side. Eventually, he does learn the truth, and the group is defeated. Actually, the arc's climax involves Gillian is actually locked away briefly, but she's freed with the help of her friends, and lumen who realizes in this moment that he can't allow this to happen, and it's the culmination of his growing confliction.

Lumen is shaken by finding out about the less than noble reasons behind the group's founding and feels very guilty for trying to further harm someone who has been deeply wronged, so he decides he needs to reevaluate himself and leaves the group, and he joins fairy tail. From there, he's super loyal to Gillian and sees her as an angel to combat his misguided view of her as a demon, and he's pretty flirty but only with her.

As I said, that backstory is much more dramatic than the second one.

(He ties his hair up in this reality ha)

In this backstory, paired with the Dreyar version of my s/i, his group is not an ancient organization, rather they're powerful mercenaries, with him as a one of it's generals, basically. These mercenaries have control over a mountain region as their base of operations. Each of their leaders controls an entrance to this region.

Team Natsu is on a job that requires them to go in to these mountains, but they need to gain permission from one of the leaders. They end up meeting Lumen and trying to convince him to help them, but he refuses and isn't budging. Until Gillian walks in, a little behind her companions after wrapping something up. He does a full turn around on his stance of not helping because he gets an immediate crush. (Self indulgent, you say? That's this whole blog, baby.)

I have less of an idea on the events that follow, but he becomes quite attached and after a few days of them returning home, he shows up at fairy tail's door looking to join to be closer to Gillian.

As for his magic, I'm still figuring out the details a little bit, and maybe this is already similar to someone else's magic in the show, maybe I might get a better idea for a different magic ability, so it could be changed but this is what it is right now.

Those circles attached to the ribbon on his waist are actually coins, and when they are flipped they summon a magical creature that's engraved on it's surface. The magical creature is assigned to a coin after it has been defeated by whoever holds the set. The more powerful the creature, the fewer times it can be summoned before the engraving fades and the creature would have to be defeated again to be able to be used again. The whole set us connected, so a type of creature can only be assigned to one coin at a time; so like, two coins couldn't both hold a dragon at the same time, or whatever.

In the library backstory, he has a very special coin, the one on his shoulder. This one had been altered to recreate the spirit of Rimis as an avenging angel and the instruction was to only use it when faced with Gillian. Rimis was Gillian's best friend, so the first time Lumen summons her shakes her really badly and actually causes her to get severely injured because she was too distracted to defend herself.

Anyway, please love my punk gentleman.

Picrew

[chapitre7]

Endeavor

The Untamed [陈情令] | Mo Dao Zu Shi [魔道祖师] fanfiction

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Yīng | Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Fantasy AU

Loosely inspired by Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions

Characterization is based on the drama, since that's the version of the title I've consumed (along with fanon)

Read on AO3

He can sense the apprehension in his fellow travelers on their footsteps. He grins, a little sympathetic, a little mean, flashing it at them over his shoulder.

 “According to the rumors, it should be just a little further ahead.”

 They’re young, not having yet learned the art of hiding their thoughts and emotions displaying so easily on their faces, exchanging an entire conversation with their eyes. The grin turns into a grimace as he faces forward, hand hovering but not touching the hilt of the sword by his hip.

 It’s a decadent place. He’s a paradox of hope and rejection, the one he wants to meet needs to be there as much as he shouldn’t be there, in that black smudge of reality. It’s not a place, not really, only curtains eaten up by moths, floorboards bent by humidity, roof half blown away by storms. Yet the door opens and he sees him walking out that wretched, misplaced space, illuminated by the torches and by the moonlight, clothes and armor still shining as bright as they had a whole lifetime ago, when they were different men, who could speak with their eyes. His heart feels small in his chest, constricted, desperate to die before this meeting can be realized.

What have I done to you?

 “Light-Bearing Lord,” he greets, enough self-hatred in every word for the two of them.

 “Yiling Patriarch,” is the appropriate response, razor-sharp, and his wish might have been fulfilled, in the end. He doesn’t think he breathes until he’s laughing, empty and loud.

 “These young men and I have been hired for a tricky job.” He waves his hand in the direction of the warriors behind him, wide-eyed children, mesmerized by the man who defies the darkness of the night. “What says you, Light-Bearing Lord, of assisting us in defeating a foul creature that has killed many an honorable man and terrorized their wives and children?”

 The rumors did Lan Wangji no justice. The whispering tavernmen spoke of the fallen noble like he was a witch, hiding away in the woods and dissecting beasts with his dark arts, making friends with the spirits of the dead for revenge against the sect that threw him out when he was the best of them. It was supposed to be me, was all Wei Wuxian could think about. He was the one who had been excommunicated and vowed to kill the vile and the corrupt. He spent years in the solitude of meaningless battles, but when he heard the rumors that the Light-Bearing Lord was back, the mercenary used his talent in lies that he had perfected over the years to guide his awkward entourage there because he had to see him, sword burning against his side with shame and regret. He may have come up with a plan on the way there, but whatever it had been escapes him as Lan Wangji looks barely any different from when they had last seen each other. He’s thinner, bone structure sharp, casting shadows on his cheeks, but he has nothing of witch. His eyes are clear, so clear, deep waters that carry nothing but the truth in their current.

 “Where?” says the white-clad man, startling the mercenary out of his reverie. Whatever uncontrollable emotion that flashes in his own eyes causes his companions to swallow their fear down their throats. They had agreed to fight alongside the Yiling Patriarch, but both the heretics? They might as well die by lightning strike, punished by the heavens.

 “I’ll lead the way.”

 And Wei Wuxian leads, ice-white sword in his hands, unworthy of every success, of every glance he sends in Lan Wangji’s way, well on his way when the sun is not even out in the sky, in the dark where he belongs.

 ***

 “A water monster? I know an expert.”

 Time and time again Wei Wuxian guides them through the woods. How was it that the rumors of the Lan witch followed him wherever he went? He could have lived without ever seeing him again —

 (Maybe not a life but an existence, one day after the other and another after that, dreaming of times long past.)

 — but he’s a guidebook of excuses to seek his aide and presence in every single job. He braves through every angry stare, every silence in return to his attempts at conversation, because if nothing else he’s known for his bravery. Was he not the man who challenged the nobles who tried to steal the ancient knowledge of the Yiling folk to gain power over every kingdom and every piece of land? Was he not the one who stood in the throne room and pointed his sword at the Emperor, god among men, corrupted with dark magic?

 He’s lucky he’s alone that night, when he finds the Light-Bearing Lord bathing in a river. He would have fought every one of his allies to keep it to himself, that silhouette against the water mirror, black hair like silk falling down his broad, pale back. They had once slept in the same dormitories, whispering insecurities to each other when no one else could hear. He was once mesmerized by the fluid, dance-like movements of his swordsmanship, admired his excellence at the Academy’s teachings, desperate to have a place next to him in History books. What a pair they would have made, instinct and intellect, reckless and calculating, heart and mind. Be careful what you wish for, any fortuneteller could have told him, if only he had bothered to listen.

 Wei Wuxian doesn’t think he makes any sound, but Lan Wangji turns in his direction anyway, bared, but never vulnerable.

 “Hello, again,” he greets, waving a hand, and Wangji says nothing, betrays nothing.

 He wants to break the ice between them, but he’s too scared of burning down the bridge of their fragile connection. He sticks to killing monsters; takes whatever he can get.

 ***

 “You can’t defeat a dragon on your own,” he had told the men gathered at the tavern. He’s both hated and respected for his arrogance, long experienced in the art of faking confidence when everybody else’s had failed. It’s led him to more than one helpless situation, and as fate would have it, the moment he spoke those words, he doomed himself.

 He wants to go back to the tavern, drink their cheapest and rarest liquors at once, fall unconscious for a full day before taking another meaningless job. He wants to take his little pouch of gold back to Yiling, as he should have done days before, so the village leader can use it for more provisions and seeds and maybe even a small party, since there was enough to spare. He wants anything else than to be closed off in a cavern with a burned Lan Wangji, hiding from an angry and hungry dragon.

 “They’ll come back soon,” he says, hoping he can convince the other better than he convinces himself.

 “They won’t,” Lan Wangji replies swiftly, and Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue.

 “Then we only need to make it through the night. We’ll patch you up and kill it once you’ve recovered.”

 “We’re not going to kill it.”

 Wei Wuxian looks at him like he’s lost the last of his sanity.

 “What do you suppose we do to a dragon who’s been burning off villages? Pray into his good graces?”

 It’s cruel, to mock Wangji’s past convictions, but there’s no place for offense in the witch’s sweaty brow and tired eyes. However, no matter how far he had fallen, there’s still a fire in the man, burning behind his irises, stronger than Wei Wuxian’s outrage had ever been. He believes him then, before he even speaks, but he speaks anyway.

 “She’s distressed. She only needs to be reassured that nobody is going to harm her, and then she’ll keep her distance, as she’s done all these years.”

 Wangji takes a shallow breath and Wei Wuxian hurries to him, touching his unmarred side, supporting Wangji’s weight when he suddenly gives in against his shoulder. He freezes with Wangji’s breath against his exposed neck and the man’s hand that clutches the fabric of his clothes.

 “Do you regard me so lowly now, to detest my very presence?”

 Wangji’s voice is a whisper but his words are a push closer to the edge of a cliff Wei Wuxian has been hanging by for ages.

 “Of course not. I’m here, aren’t I?” His voice is a pitch higher with his lie, and Wangji’s nose touches his neck, falling deeper, deeper into him. He can certainly feel the way Wei Wuxian swallows.

 “If only because there’s no other option, and still you seem to contemplate your luck with the dragon.”

 He feels the fluttering of Wangji’s eyelashes and holds back a whimper. The man is burning up and Wei Wuxian knows that, if he so wanted, he could use Wei Wuxian’s spiritual power to heal himself, he’s skilled enough in magic to do so. Without a sword to wield, what was there for Wangji to brandish, if not the magic weaker men couldn’t hope to control?

 Wei Wuxian feels colder then, despite the physical contact with Wangji’s feverish skin. He laughs, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

 “You can’t fault me. We could have met in better circumstances,” he says, feeling the immediate huff of air that Wangji lets out.

 “Could we?”

 Wei Wuxian wets his lips. I spent years avoiding you, desperate to see you again, he wants to say. I’m not worthy of your friendship, there’s nothing else I want more.

 I want you and I want you to want me, but what is left of us to give? We’re hubris, remains of the consequences of our actions, but still, you...

 “You don’t want to meet me, Lan Zhan,” he says, meaning shouldn’t, meaning mustn’t, the man’s birth name falling from his lips as easily as he kills, easier, much easier than waking up to greet the world every morning; easy as breathing. Wangji’s — Lan Zhan’s — head rises from its spot on his chest, back away only enough to look at his face. In the campfire he sees everything; his pain, his fever, and the gleam of tears in his eyes. Wangji lowers his eyes.

 “Every time you leave is as painful as when you disappeared then, Jin Guangyao’s blood still fresh in our hands.”

 His grip loosens on Wuxian’s clothes and Wuxian takes that hand in his. The hand that protected him, when the emperor had gotten the best of him, his royal sword licking against Wei Wuxian’s neck. Yet Wangji, perfectly composed, the golden child of Lan, had killed him, for Wei Wuxian, had pierced the head of Jin Guangyao with Bichen, sealing the revolution that shook the land. The sword was a certainty in every tale, but the one who wielded it, if Wei Wuxian, if Lan Wangji, was a secret only the two of them knew. And Wuxian carried Bichen with him, to spread rumors, to take the world off Lan Wangji’s shoulder, because he was bright and he was good and he hadn’t used underhand means to take the emperor down, hadn’t lied his way into the royal guard to cleanse the kingdom of its curse. It was supposed to be his burden, so Wangji should speak not of pain, he should be... He should feel...

 “We’re from different worlds. You deserve better than what I can give you.”

 Nothing but a low life, with no glory, just infamy.

 “Do you suppose I could have acted differently?”

 Wangji’s hand falls from his, eyes hide behind the curtain of his hair.

 “Do you think us so different that I would have stayed still when my family did nothing in the face of injustice?”

 The wizard leans back, eyes focused on the fire, and Wuxian has never felt him so distant. Even in the aftermath of Jin Guangyao’s death, before he lost consciousness, Wangji had held him, hadn’t he? He had forgotten. Wangji had held him and Wuxian could have sworn he had comforted him, speaking reassuring words in his ears, over and over again, even though he had never been much of a talker.

 “Wei Ying,” he says, and his face betrays nothing, though the name says everything. “Am I still such a stranger to you?”

 Wei Wuxian gives in. He pulls the injured man back against him, shifting his position so his back leans against the hard wall and Wangji leans against his chest. His arms cover both Wangji’s healthy and injured ones, and his hands guide Wangji’s hands, fingers intertwined, to cross against his middle. Wangji winces and whimpers, but Wuxian hushes him, mouth right next to his ear, and says, “You can use my energy to heal. Use as much as you need.”

 Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, hoping that, if his words really had power, that he could really will their meeting to happen at different circumstances. If the dragon doesn’t kill them, if Wangji isn’t injured beyond recovery, he wants to tell him that he wants to stay, that he wants to hear his singing voice again as he did once, when they weren’t men, just tall children pretending to fight, looking at the stars and talking about missing a time when they weren’t at war. Lan Zhan had told him one of his ancestors sang her victory into the battlefield, and he had sung, and Wei Ying had been defeated, right there. Surrendered, hopelessly putting his heart in the hands of someone who would never betray him.

 ***

 There’s a whistling sound when he wakes up. The fire has long died out, and Lan Wangji is nowhere to be seen, but he hears it. Not too far into the maze of tunnels of the dragon’s lair, there’s a song. His heart is at his throat as he gets up, stumbles then tries his footing again, running as fast as his drained body lets him. We’re not going to kill it, Wangji had said, and he’s crazy, absolutely crazy to face a dragon without recovering properly, and Wuxian is not sure how much of his recklessness is his own and how much is a terrible influence of the Yiling Patriarch.

 (Could they be so easily separated?)

 He sees him with a leaf over his lips, whistling one of the melodies from the Song of Clarity of the Lan family. Wuxian was the one who taught him how to use a leaf as a makeshift instrument and if Wangji had died right then, remorse would have finally killed him.

 But the man doesn’t die. He walks calmly, his free hand reaching out to touch the creature’s scales, to feel its warm breath as its head lowers, nuzzling him like he’s one of its babies. Wei Wuxian still feels like death is going to take him over, both of them, at any second, but when Wangji turns to him, his left side completely healed and a tired smile on his face, he thinks this is the rebirth he had been waiting for.

 “It’s not going to be a problem anymore,” Wangji declares and Wuxian allows himself to fall on his knees, ecstatic and exhausted.

 ***

 The celebrations last until dark. They don’t take any money for the job, considering how poor the villagers are after losing so much to the dragon’s rage, but accept the food and liquor and thanks they are willing to give. Wuxian loses sight of Wangji halfway through the party, and he might have panicked if not for the conversation he keeps replaying in his head. Does he detest Wangji’s presence? No. Is every departure as painful as the first, all those years ago? Yes. Yes, and yes, and yes.

 He finds him whistling on a leaf again, in the woods. They call Lan Wangji a witch but his Lan Zhan is more like a faerie, easily capturing the moonlight in the white of his robes, ready to take him away with a glance, a gesture, the tilt of his head when he notices him approach.

 Wuxian brushes his knuckles against his left cheek and Wangji stops playing, almost imperceptibly leaning into his touch.

 “Are you okay?”

 He hums, and Wuxian is pleased to feel it under his touch.

 “It wasn’t bad. Your energy was enough.”

 “You should still rest. And we should gather some medicinal herbs tomorrow, before parting.”

 “We?”

 “Ah.”

 Wuxian drops his hand and his head, fully conscious that Wangji can see the redness creeping up his neck and into his face. Sometimes his thoughts act so fast that he forgets he had not yet said the things he meant to say.

 “I was thinking... Do you want to go to Yiling with me? I haven’t checked on them in a while and—”

 “Yes.”

 His head snaps up and he’s enraptured by the shy smile on Wangji’s lips. It’s the same, just the same as then, like nothing bad has ever happened between them, and they’re young and free and ready to start their lives. And aren’t they still? Sometimes it’s hard to remember war didn’t make them old, just tired.

 “Great!” Wuxian lets out, and it’s too high, too embarrassed, so he stands up. “We should head to bed, then, we’ll be traveling for a while and need all the rest we can get!”

 He turns his back to his best friend but he hears it. A low, but clear, “Wei Ying.” It ripples in the silence towards him, like the liquid sound of the lake.

 “You... Still don’t know my heart?”

 He doesn’t know what to say. He’s had years to ponder, to hope, to doubt. Up until the day before he thought Lan Zhan was better off without him, that he couldn’t, shouldn’t... He still held Bichen tightly in his grasp after all those years, like a lifeline, a reminder that he would be nothing without Lan Zhan. But what could Lan Zhan be without him? Something purer, someone...

 Someone who tamed dragons using a technique he taught him. Someone who was as much as him and he was them, white Bichen both his heart and Lan Zhan’s, Lan Zhan’s anger his own, as was his revenge, his fears, his sorrow.

 Lan Zhan walks past him, saying no more, blending into the night and back to their inn. Wuxian follows a little behind, words all spent, nothing left but resolution, caution thrown to the wind. What is he if not bravery, recklessness? He’s nothing but blind, desperate certainty.

 Lan Zhan’s door isn’t locked. Neither is he asleep, eyes open, dark but clear all at once. Although his steps are sure, when he leans down, both hands cupping Lan Zhan’s face, he hesitates. Could he lose his world right there, in that moment, if he were to give in to the love of his teenage years, all admiration, all pride, every single and everlasting dream of a lifetime by his side risked in a kiss?

 Lan Zhan meets him halfway and melts away his doubts and defenses. His grip is strong, that of a warrior, and Wei Ying tries to be gentle, even though he’s a mercenary, a heretic, someone unworthy of so much warmth and adoration. And every kiss that follows, every whispered confession, every blissful breath that escapes them speaks, stay, stay, stay.

 Don’t ever let go of my heart again.

 ***

 “Ghouls?”

 The bartender looks at him curiously over his spectacles, and the mercenary who had been trying for the job glares as he approaches, black hood still partially covering his face, but not his wicked smile.

 “There’s no one better at handling ghouls than me and my partner.”

 “And who the hell might you be?”

 He lowers his hood and his long black hair and signature red ribbon seem to speak for him.

 “The Yiling Patriarch!”

 “Right, right,” he waves the mercenary off. “Now, what did you say the reward for this job was, again? Lan Zhan and I wouldn’t refuse any job to vanquish evil, no matter how small it is, but we must talk business.”

 On cue, a second man sits on the bar stool, white hood lowered to show a perfectly impassive face, as if sculpted by faeries, using the most precious jewels. He gives the mercenary a sideway glance and the man flees, bolts through the double doors of the entrance, making Wei Wuxian laugh. Did the man not hear a word he said? The Yiling Patriarch and the Light-Bearing Lord are allies of justice. If he does nothing wrong, and if the nobles and the holy planned no evil deeds, then they have nothing to fear.

 Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian share a look, each giving a lopsided smile that speaks volumes.

 “Where were we?”

[lillotte17]

Snowstorm cuddles for Aili and Uthvir?

Wahoo! I am EXTREMELY slow, but we get there in the end! As always, Uthvir belongs to @feynites! To the Fake Marriage AU!!

~

 When Ailiopens her eyes, she finds herself staring up at what appears to be the roof ofsome sort of cave or tunnel. It is dark and her head is pounding, but shethinks someone must be carrying her. Either that or the walls of thisparticular cave can move on their own, which would be disconcerting. A slightshift of her gaze reveals that it is her ‘spouse’ who has taken to toting heraround like a sack of flour.

“Uthvir…where?”she manages to rasp out. She’s having some trouble piecing her memoriestogether. They were fighting someone? Or running? And Haven… Haven was burning.Templars and mages with grotesque features; warped and twisted by red lyrium.Screaming and chaos and blood in the snow.

“It seems thatthere were tunnels beneath the village, just as the priest said,” they tell herquietly, “There is no telling if they will lead out in the same direction thatthe others fled in, however. For now, we should focus on survival. We can worryabout finding the rest of the Inquisition once we are safely away fromCorypheus and his minions. Do you think you can walk on your own? You seem to havelanded in…an unfortunate position.”

“My face doesfeel a bit like it had a close encounter with a rock,” Aili groans, “But Ithink I can walk.”

Uthvir sets herdown gently, but almost as soon as Aili’s feet meet the stone floor of thepassageway, a burning pain lances up through her foot. She curses loudly,stumbling and slightly dizzy. Uthvir quickly grabs hold of her again before shemanages to fall over, for which she is grateful.

“Well, so muchfor that idea,” Aili huffs, “I think I have the energy left to heal myself,but… I think I must have knocked my head a bit harder than I thought. Trying topatch yourself up when you have a fever, or a headache is never a good plan.How are you feeling?”

“I am…a bitdrained,” they admit, “We were fighting for quite a while even before thedragon showed up.”

“Do you thinkyou killed it?” Aili wonders.

“It is possiblethat it will succumb to its injuries,” Uthvir hums thoughtfully as they helpher make her way down the passage, “But I doubt that this Corypheus would allowthat to happen. He seems to have some sort of connection to it, and I suspectthat he would not relinquish such a thing willingly. Dragons are powerful andintimidating. It is a useful tool in gaining and inspiring followers, ifnothing else.”

“It looked…wrong.Blighted. You don’t think he can control Darkspawn with it do you?” shepresses further, her grip on them tightening slightly with worry. “Ferelden isjust getting back on its feet, and the Fifth Blight was over ten years ago. Idon’t know if we could survive another one with everything else going on.”

“I suspect thatif Corypheus was capable of summoning the other Darkspawn to do his bidding, helikely would have done so,” Uthvir replies, “It would have been much simplerthan slowly feeding red lyrium to various mages and Templars for weeks on end.”

“Smallmercies,” Aili sighs in relief.

“He might becapable of controlling blighted creatures within a certain proximity tohimself, however,” Uthvir continues with a thoughtful hum, “It would explainwhy his lackeys remain so loyal, even after becoming seemingly mindless beasts.It merits further investigation, I should think.”

“I suggestinvestigating our way out of these tunnels first,” Aili replies.

 Uthvirsnorts.

“Well,your injuries cannot be too grievous if you are still making attempts at beingfunny,” they smirk.

“You laughed!”she reminds them with a grin of her own.

Uthvir shakestheir head at her, but the spark of amusement does not leave their eyes as theycontinue to guide her through the cave’s winding passageways. Aili is not surehow, but they seem to know where they are going, despite not even knowing thecaves existed before Chancellor Roderick told them about them a few hours ago.She doesn’t sense any magic from them, outside of a cold prickling sensationthat seems to surround them sometimes, but she’s almost certain that is not aspell. The feeling probably just emanates from the runes on their armor orsomething. Just like their innate sense of direction probably has something todo with their hunting skills.  

Probably.

The relativelycheerful mood abruptly vanishes once they get to the mouth of the cave leadingout into the mountains and are met with a billowing sea of white. The only signof the fleeing Inquisition is an abandoned cart with a broken wheel. There isno path. No markers. No way to follow after. Aili can feel her hopes fading assurely as footprints in the swirling snow.

“Well…weknow the general direction they went in,” she says, trying to soundchipper and failing rather badly, “Maybe you could…scout ahead and findthem? I’m probably not going to get far on this ankle, and you’ll move muchfaster without having to drag me along behind you.”

“You canbarely stand at present,” Uthvir frowns, “How do you suppose you aregoing to defend yourself if Corypheus’ minions find their way into thesetunnels while I am gone?”

“I can usemagic sitting down,” she points out, “And you’re almost as tired as Iam. There’s no sense in both of us freezing to death because we couldn’t find helpor shelter fast enough. I’ll find a place to hide, and you can bring back someof our friends. It…it’ll be fine.”

They give her along searching look. The expression on their face is inscrutable, and Aili getsthe distinct impression that great many things are being weighed against eachother. She tightens her grip on them a little, but otherwise keep her peace,wondering what their verdict will be.

Uthvir lets outa long breath.

“I do notsuppose it would be especially gallant if I left my injured wife to fend forherself,” they say finally, carefully lifting her in their arms once againand stepping out into the snow, “I suspect the others would never let mehear the end of it.”

“I’m not your wife,” she reminds them, but hervoice is soft, and the usual protest almost sounds a bit remorseful.

“Perhaps not,”they concede, talking over the wind roaring in their ears. “Still, I doubt itwould do my reputation any favors if I allowed you to succumb to the cold.Defeating an ancient magister, his pet dragon, and all of his lackeys only tobe thwarted by a bit of weather? Pathetic.”

“If you sayso,” Aili says quietly, not quite capable of biting back a smile.

It is hard tosay how long they struggle through the blizzard. It feels like hours, and thescenery hardly changes, just endless blinding whiteness occasionally broken upby the dark shape of a tree or a rock. And there are still no signs of theInquisition. Uthvir moves with surety, though, even if they are not movingespecially fast, so Aili thinks they must have a better idea of how to tracktheir companions than she does. Or maybe it is simply their survival instinctskicking in, keeping them fording on ahead. She finds she does not have theenergy to ask about it either way.

It is very cold.

When theyrushed out to defend Haven they had been dressed for battle, not a long hikethrough the mountains. Neither of them have cloaks or furs to protect them fromthe biting winds. Aili does not even have shoes that cover her toes. It was abad choice, in retrospect, but there is little that can be done about it now.

By the time thestorm finally breaks, Aili is visibly shaking. Her feet and ears are almostentirely numb, and there is quite a bit of snow accumulating in her hair. Sheis damp and windburned and miserable, and Uthvir does not appear to be fairingmuch better than she is. Their pace has slowed considerably, and their grip onher has slackened, they still seem set on soldiering on, though, so Ailidecides not to bring up how haggard they look.

That is, rightup until they stumble through a snowbank and all but plow them both straightinto a tree.

“Perhaps weshould look for shelter and worry about finding the rest of the Inquisition inthe morning?” she suggests. Her voice is little more than a crackling whisper,but without the bellowing wind, the mountains are almost eerily quiet, so shedoes not doubt that they have heard her. Still, it takes them several minutesto respond, long enough that she begins to wonder if she has offended themsomehow.

“If we do notcatch up with them tonight, we might not find them at all,” Uthvir tells herthrough gritted teeth, their gaze fixed fiercely out into the night, “Do not beafraid. I am not going to die out here. Neither will you.”

Aili leans intothem a bit more, tucking her head up beneath their chin and letting out a longshuddering breath.

“I am notafraid to die.”

Somewhere inthe darkness, a lone wolf howls. A beat of silence follows the mournful sound,and the two wayward elves hold their breath in anticipation of what they bothknow must follow. As expected, a chorus answers the initial cry. A dozenechoing voices calling out from the woods surrounding them.

“I know I justsaid I wasn’t afraid,” Aili says quietly, tightening her arms around their neckas best she can with all their sharp edges in the way, “But I don’tparticularly, want to die, if we can help it.”

“Duly noted,”Uthvir replies wryly, “I suppose we will not find the Inquisition this eveningif we let ourselves get eaten first. I will find us a safe hiding place, ifthere is one to be found.”

They continueon in silence for a while, trying not to think of what might be following them.The crunch of Uthvir’s boots in the snow seems almost deafening in the frozenmountain air, and it strikes an odd chord within Aili’s thoughts, because theyusually move with such subtlety. Sliding across battlefields and barrooms alikewith hardly a sound. Like a ghost. Or a spirit.

Aili slips in and out of consciousness as thecold begins to settle into her bones, and she thinks, perhaps, she must havehit her head much harder than she thought. Things are just not making any sense.Every now and then she hears Uthvir’s voice, but it is…strange. It has aresonance that trembles straight through her, igniting some primal fear she hasno name for. And more than that, the words they murmur under their breath -toher or to themselves she cannot say- are in Elvhen. Not the broken, stiltedElvhen that the Dalish speak, but true Elvhen. The kind that one canonly hear in the oldest memories tucked into far flung corners of the Fade, andoccasionally clinging to a few precious artifacts that the clans exchange forstudy.

The sound of itsings in her ears like a song from her childhood. A song she had once loved,but has long since forgotten the words to. But their meaning is not lost onher. Reassurance. Determination. Worry.

For themselves?

…For her?

Her mind swimsand her heart aches and, for some reason, the shadows behind Uthvir seem togrow very long. Writhing and shifting shapes. Blotting out the snow like a pairof massive dark wings.

Their edgesgrow sharper. Teeth and nails as long as knives. The air chills around them,colder now than the wind from earlier, even though their eyes seem to burn likecoals.  

The wolf packhowls again, closer this time.

Fear surges inher gut. A dusty gasping roar erupts from somewhere near her ear, almost like abonfire rushing out across a plain of dry summer grass. It seems to swallow allof her senses.

The world meltsinto darkness.

~

The second timeAili wakes, it is to a patchwork of dark splintered beams and bright pools ofstarlight. It takes her a few moments to realize that she is actually lookingup at the sky through a wooden roof with several large holes in it. And ittakes a few moments more to notice that she is no longer being held. Someonehas bundled her up in what appears to be a very worn, and moth-eaten fur rugand laid her out on the floor of whatever building this is.

The samesomeone seems to be in the process of lighting a fire.

“Did we…findthe Inquisition?” she croaks out.

Uthvir glancesup from their task and shakes their head at her.  

“This is an oldhunting lodge, as far as I can tell,” they say, “It is far from ideal, but Ihave set wards. The walls may be thin, but the door seems sturdyenough, and I doubt the beasts of the mountains would be so desperate as to trybreaking it down for a meal.”

The timberfinally catches, but the wood is damp, and the fire emanates more smoke than heat.Still, it is better than before. At the very least, they will probably not geteaten.

“D-do you thinkanyone will see the smoke and come looking?” Aili wonders, teeth chattering asshe makes an attempt to burrow further into her makeshift blanket.

“It is hard tosay,” Uthvir hums, still poking at the fire, “It is possible Corypheus’creatures tracked us through the storm, but it seems unlikely. As for our ownallies… They are sure to have their hands full just moving that many peoplewith any sort of haste. I doubt that many resources will be wasted trying totrack down two agents who may well have perished defending their flight. That,and our fire is quite small, I doubt such a tiny plume of smoke would be visiblefrom any great distance.”

 "B-but…they’reour friends,“ Aili insists, “At least, some of them are.Varric and Cassandra and Solas wouldn’t let them all just abandon us out here.Leliana and Josie will send agents or crows or something, I’m sure.”

“They have already abandoned usout here,” they point out with a sigh, “Once they are safely out ofharm’s way, perhaps they might send scouts to try and discover what happened tous, but I would not hold out hope of them finding us tonight.”

“Itf-figures that the one time Trevelyan’s annoying habit of stalking me all overthe place would actually be marginally useful is the one time he c-can’t seemto manage it,” Aili grumbles.

“Somehow,I imagine having the ‘Herald of Andraste’ present would only add to our list ofproblems,” Uthvir huffs.

“You’rep-probably right, but at the very least, we’d have another fur to bundle upin,” she says, “He never seems to take that ridiculous cloak off.”

“Iam not sure the gains outweigh the grievances, in this case,” they smirk, theireyes sparkling with just a hint of mischief, “Besides, there is more than oneway to get warm.”

“Hm,”Aili agrees blearily, “If I wasn’t so tired I could… I’m good with fire. Firespells. I know a nice one for warming your hands, but… Numb. Everywhere. Allover. Probably shouldn’t try casting, or the whole place might get set alight.”

“Doyou think you might have frostbite?” Uthvir asks with a frown.

“N-notsure,” she shivers, “But if I have it someplace, it would most likely be myfeet. It was a b-bad day to wear footwraps.”

Uthvirtuts in disapproval, abandoning the seat by the fire to walk over and pull backthe fur covering Aili’s legs. Their brows furrow as they carefully take one ofher feet in their hands and begin unwinding the leather wrapped around it. Sheflinches slightly when their touch moves up over her swollen ankle.

“Thereseems to be some slight discoloration of the skin, but nothing tooserious,” they tell her with a sigh, “However, I would be the firstto admit that healing such things is not my area of expertise.”

“Ican heal most of it with magic and some herbs once I rest a bit,” Ailisays, sounding just as wrung out as she feels, “But for now, just warmingthem back up slowly should help.”

“Youhave encountered this problem frequently?” Uthvir guesses.

“Theclan has had to survive a few tough winters since I became First,” sheyawns, “Sometimes hunters came back with more than just deer meat andstories. Daewyn nearly lost an ear after falling in a frozen river.Idiot.”

Despitethe insult, her expression is fond.

“Asibling?” Uthvir asks, slowly moving their hands over her feet one afteranother.

“He’smy best friend, but he might as well be my brother. We grew up together. Thickas thieves,” she lets out a relieved sigh and wiggles her toes as a bit ofthe feeling comes back to them, “What are you doing, exactly? Itfeels…different from healing magic.”

“Iam…encouraging the blood flow to your feet,” they explain hesitantly. Theyknow she is not overly fond of blood magic, but she would likely find it lessdistressing than having to lose a few toes later. Such things cannot simply beregrown by healing magic in this age, as far as Uthvir knows.

“Youshould really save your strength,” she tells them. Her expression is holdsmore concern than disapproval, for the time being. “You honestly lookabout as worn down as I feel, and I didn’t even have to walk here through ablizzard like you did. And you set the wards earlier, too. You shouldsleep.”

“Oneof us needs to stand watch, and it is hardly going to be you,” Uthvirsnorts.

“Youset wards,” she reminds them again, “There isn’t much else you can dobeyond that. Anything strong enough to break through your magic could probablytake either one of us out at this point. We’re both hungry and tired and low onmana. Right now, exhaustion and cold are our two biggest concerns. Even if Isleep through the night and wake up strong enough to heal my ankle, I’m hardlygoing to be capable of carrying you through the snow with all that armor on,and that’s exactly the position we’re going to find ourselves in if you don’tat least try to get a little bit of sleep. You fought a dragon today,Lethallen.”

Uthvirfrowns, clearly unhappy with the prospect.  

“Isuppose, if I prop myself up near the door…” they try.

“You’llbe stiff as a board and half frozen by morning,” Aili insists, “Justpeel of your spiky bits and come share the musty blanket-rug with me. It’ll bewarmer for both of us.”  

“Isthat meant to be a come on?” Uthvir wonders with a smirk, though theirgaze still speaks of uncertainty.

“Comeonto what?” Aili blinks.

“…Nevermind,” they say with a deep sigh, “I do not know if you have noticed,but I…am not especially fond of…touching. Of being touched, moreprecisely.”

“We’veshared a bed plenty of times by now,” Aili reminds them, her browfurrowing slightly. In confusion or concern it is hard to say.

“Yes,”they concede, “But I was wearing most of my armor and could easily moveaway if necessary. You do get rather…clingy in your sleep, youknow.”

“Iknow,” she winces, “This time it really is for the sake of survivaland practicality, though, I swear. No ulterior motives. Not that there havebeen ulterior motives the other times, they just keep giving us quarters with asingle bed in them, and I am incomprehensibly grabby. I’m not really sure why Ido that in my sleep… You just get used to it when you’ve got two or threefamilies all sharing an aravel, I guess. No room to be shy about a lack ofpersonal space.”    

“Iam not shy,” they insist, looking nearly scandalized by theassertion.

“Ohno?” she wonders, biting back a laugh at their expression, “Well,whatever it is about the prospect of trying to keep ourselves warm by sharing asleeping space that you happen to find objectionable; is there anything we cando to make it easier for you?”

Theymull it over for a few moments before glancing up at her with a salacious grin.

“Isuppose we could always…bind your hands?” they suggest with an air offeigned innocence.

Ailiblinks at them again, clearly surprised, but then she shrugs. Or, at least,Uthvir thinks she shrugs. It’s hard to tell when she’s all wrapped up in bearskin.

“Okay,”she says simply.    

“Okay?”they repeat, slightly dumbfounded, “You would be willing to sacrifice yourfreedom of movement in perilous circumstances just to get me to sleep?”

“Well,it’s just my hands,” she shrugs again, “I can still cast with mywrists tied if I really need to, so long as the binding isn’t wound too tight.And I don’t think it’s that perilous. There’s no one else in here exceptyou, and you’ve had plenty of chances to do something terrible to me, if youhad had the mind to. I’d rather be a little uncomfortable than risk either ofus freezing to death during the night.”

Theylook at her as though they think she is very strange and possibly even a bitmad, but in the end, they simply let out a long breath and begin the process ofremoving the sharper pieces of their armor. They do not seem particularly happyabout it, but Aili supposes that there is not a whole lot to be happy about inthis situation. She follows their example, and being fumbling around beneathher fur covering to undo the buckles of her leathers. Her fingers are stillcold and stiff, so the process is much trickier than she had initially thoughtit might be.

“Whatare you doing?” Uthvir asks when she lets out a little frustrated growland draws their attention back to her.

“Well,my armor is hardly much more comfortable than yours,” she points out,still fighting a particularly stubborn clasp, “It will be much easier toshare body heat with skin to skin contact.”

“Areyou suggesting we get…naked?” Uthvir baulks.

“No,no, just the top halves!” Aili insists, having the grace to blush a bit,“I mean, it probably would be warmer if we… But that’s completelyunnecessary! It should be fine to just sleep back to back.”

“I…wouldprefer not to,” Uthvir says tightly, looking very much like they wouldlike to put all of their armor back on straight away.

“It’llbe fine,” Aili cajoles, “We’ll tie my wrists, so I don’t grab you,and I’ll even promise to keep my eyes shut, if it helps.”

Uthviris quite for a minute and the room seems to get much darker. The shadowsstretch, and Aili shudders and the temperature drops inexplicably. The wholebuilding rattles as an ill wind blows in from somewhere, and a large pile ofsnow falls through the roof. Directly onto the struggling fire.

“Fine,”Uthvir hisses out, agitated and a bit wild around the eyes, “Close youreyes, and do not open them until I tell you to.”

Ailinods in understanding. She shuts her eyes and tugs the rest of her armor offand shoves it outside of her makeshift blanket. She worms her way out of hertunic afterwards and balls it up into something of a pillow to lay her head on.And then she holds very still, and waits for Uthivr.

Theyseem to take a very long time, and Aili is nearly asleep when she finally feelsthem take hold of her hands. She’s not certain what they are tying her with,but the fabric is soft, and the binding is loose enough that she does not worryabout it restricting her blood flow. The worst part is undoubtedly when theypull back the bear skin in order to join her, and the coldness of the airinside their little hut instantly starts her shivering again.

Butthen Uthvir is there. A warm solid presence, the smooth skin of their chestpressed flush against her spine. Folding around her like a second blanket astheir arms curl up about her own, pinioning her wrists with deft hands.

Well.This was not the position she had envisioned.

“Um,”she begins, not even sure what she is about to say, only that she isembarrassed about it already.

“Sleep,”Uthvir cuts her off, firm but quiet. Their voice is a puff of hot air againsther neck, tickling the hairs just behind her ear. It makes her shiver forreasons that have nothing to do with the cold, although she cannot exactlypinpoint why. “Your skin feels like ice. Get whatever rest you can, andwhen daylight comes, we will catch up with the Inquisition.”  

“…Alright,”she agrees with a whisper.

Despiteher acquiescence, Aili does not, in fact, fall asleep right away. She isexhausted, and decidedly less cold than she was earlier, but while she cannotprecisely say that she is uncomfortable with their current proximity…shecannot stop thinking about it either. She feels hyper-aware of every slightshift of their body. The feeling of their heartbeat at her back. The slow riseand fall of their chest as they breathe. The faint smell of leather andsomething citrus that seems to linger around them.

Maybethis was not the best idea.

Itis strange that such a thing should bother her, though. It is hardly the firsttime they have shared a sleeping space. She said as much herself, earlier. Andshe has slept snuggled up to people almost all of her life. Perhaps it issimply that her hands are bound. Perhaps it is strange because it is Uthvir,and they do not enjoy this sort of thing, and their discomfort is spilling overonto her. Perhaps it is because this particular pose seems so…intimate.

Likelovers.                                                                                            

Butthey are not. Not lovers or spouses or even close friends. They are two peoplewith a vague agreement to pose as a married couple for the sake of convenience.Or in Uthvir’s case, possibly just for amusement. There is a certain amount ofcomradery between them. A touch of fondness. A dash of trust. But that is all.

Isn’tit?

Ailistarts slightly at the feeling of fingers gently running over her rightshoulder blade.

“Myapologies,” Uthvir says quietly, “I thought you had fallenasleep.”

“Notyet,” Aili whispers back, “Did you need something?”

“No,I…” they pause, “I was merely wondering if your shoulder had healedcompletely yet. You might have managed to avoid getting shot with an arrowagain, but it would be…unfortunate, if anything that happened today hadreopened your previous injury.”

“Thatwas weeks ago,” Aili reminds them, a bit surprised by their concern,“You watched Adan take the stiches out yourself.”

“Myexperience with magebane is limited,” Uthvir admits, “I was unsurehow long it might take to completely leave someone’s bloodstream. I did notknow if it might permanently slow your body’s natural healingcapabilities…”

“…Well,it still gets a bit stiff some mornings,” Aili says, trying to soundreassuring, but still a little baffled to be even having this conversation,“But it’s really just a scar at this point. Not even a very bigone.”  

“Bigor small, I am sorry to have had some part in its creation,” they saysolemnly.

“It’sreally not a big deal,” she insists with a chuckle, “And now I get tohear you tell everyone how cool I was when I saved your life.”

“…Youwere, indeed,” they agree with a sigh.

Ailimakes a pleased hum in the back of her throat, and shifts a bit in their arms.Snuggling further into their loose embrace. Uthvir moves enough to accommodatethe change, tucking their face somewhere in the mess of her hair. For a fewminutes there is nothing but deep even breathing. Slow steady heartbeats.

“…Thankyou,” Aili says at last, her voice rough and drowsy, dangling on the edgeof sleep, “For not leaving me behind.”

“Getsome rest,” Uthvir whispers, but she thinks she feels their hands tightenon her a bit.

Andthen, after a pause, they inexplicably begin to hum. It is almost odd enough tojar her back into wakefulness, but their voice is smooth and soothing, and thetune is surprisingly pleasant. It takes her a few moments more to realize thatit is her song. The one she always sings to herself when she’s happy andthings are going as they should be.

Theywere listening to her close enough to memorize it? When did that happen?

Itis a mystery that will have to wait, however, because between the warmth oftheir shared body heat, and the soft sound of Uthvir’s voice in her ears, Ailifinally finds herself drifting off to sleep.

~

Thethird time she wakes, there is cool gray sunlight pouring in through the holesin the cabin roof, and she is alone in her little nest of fur, huddled into atight ball. The sky is clear. Her hands are unbound.

Uthviris already awake and fully clothed and armored, roasting something over a smallbut much more successful fire than the one from the night before. They shoother a smirk as she sits up and scooches towards them like some strange sort ofgiant caterpillar. She’s fairly certain she looks like she just rolled downhalf a mountainside, but appearances are far down the list of her prioritiesright now. Especially when whatever they are cooking smells so good.

“Arabbit built its nest nearby after the humans abandoned the place,” Uthvirexplains when they catch the direction of her gaze, “Unfortunate for it,but lucky for us.”

“Ithink I’m ready for a bit of good luck after everything that happened lastnight,” Aili scrapes out.

Uthvirnods in agreement.

“Doyou think you have the reserves to heal your ankle?” they ask. “Ifnot, I could probably manage once I eat a bit. I am not as proficient with thehealing arts as you are, however.”

“Ithink I can manage,” she confirms.

“Excellent,”they reply, “I spotted what seems to be smoke rising up from just beyondthe next mountain pass. A decent place to defend from a potential attack, but afoolish gamble for a group of people meant to be in hiding.”

“Scaredhumans are rarely adept at subtlety,” Aili snorts.

“Youhave little room to judge,” Uthvir notes.

“Hey!”

“Regardless,I should think we should find the rest of the Inquisition by mid-morning,”they continue.

“Readyfor a hero’s welcome?” she grins.

Theymatch her expression with a definite air of smugness.

“Itis no less than we deserve.”

“Thinkit will finally get Trevelyan to leave me alone?” Aili wonders hopefully.

Uthvirsnorts.

“Absolutelynot.”

[antemortem-rp-blog]

VALERIA CASTILLO twenty-four / one hundred and forty-three ☾ vampire lindsey morgan

Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.

BUT AT MY BACK I ALWAYS HEAR

Innocence. That was all Valeria was. She was the small timid girl in the background who held onto a tiny item, generally a toy of sorts, and didn’t speak. She idolized her parents: her father a painter, her mother a teacher. They didn’t live off much, but she was fine with that. She spent hours a day watching her father sketch, and draw, and paint. Often it was her mother who had to drag her away to her studies. Tired of mathematics and language, Valeria’s creative mind followed her father. Her mother would assume her daughter to be studying when in fact she’d be drawing. From the age she could hold a pencil, she was always drawing. She was closer to the page than to people.

As she began older, Valeria became a little more rebellious and a little more spirited. Although compared to her peers, Valeria was still among the tamest. She never quite stepped out of her timid shell. She didn’t need to socialize, art was all she needed. She was intelligent, enough to make many try to put her down. Valeria took the insults and turned her pain to her art. If she wasn’t allowed to show her intelligence to the world, she would show it to her art. Her father, ever impressed by the apple of his eyes, began to sell her art under a fake name. And she was a hit.

Everyone wanted to her art. With all the money that started to come in, her family moved to Brooklyn. There Valeria could hide away like she wanted but still create the art she loved. It was perfect. She really started to blossom. She started to gain more confidence and even started entering into society more. It was at a gathering, one crisp fall night that she met Damon Salvatore. He was like no one she’d ever met. Valeria, so enthralled by her art, had never even thought of looking for a suitor. But Damon changed that for her. He was the first person she ever trusted to tell her secret to. He promised he could help her, give her the power to paint art herself no more false identities. She accepted without hesitation. However, she had no idea what she was accepting.

When Valeria woke, Damon was gone. At first, she felt sick but didn’t remember what had happened. Her mother came to check on her and Valeria could stop herself. She fed. Thankfully, she was able to restrain herself from killing her mother. However, she no longer knew how to face her family. She collected her things and ran away in the night. While pleading with a man to take her with her out of the city, she discovered her ability of compulsion. She slept in his carriage all day and awoke the following evening when they arrived at their destination. She found a room and compelled herself to stay in it. She still didn’t really understand what had happened to her. She wrote a letter to Damon, but nothing would come of it. In the morning, she stood by the window as the sun rose. That what how she discovered she wouldn’t be able to go in the sun.

She thought to try Damon’s suggestion and sell her art with no false identity. But no one would buy her art without her compulsion. Heartbroken and disenchanted, she decided to travel. Among these travels, she met Rebekah Mikaelson and her world changed once again. The woman was kind enough to teach her about being a vampire. She followed Rebekah wherever she went but in Chicago, she lost her. Valeria searched the globe trying to find the blonde once more but found nothing. Her heart slowly started to grow cold with everyone leaving her. She no longer was the shy, hopeful girl. She became calculating, flirtatious, short-tempered. She got used to getting her way. She heard rumours about Chance Falls and bored in Europe, she went off to see what the small town could offer. What she didn’t expect was to find everyone who’d left her behind.

TIME’S WINGED CHARIOT HURRYING NEAR

Damon Salvatore → SIRE

She’d never connected with anyone until him. She would have been content to focus her whole life on her art and never feel anything. He ruined her ability to love her art. She gave up wanted to paint because no one would but her art without her compulsion. She blames him for her departure from the art world and intends to get revenge. It’s because of him she’s stuck only coming out at night. It’s because of him she almost killed her own mother. He ruined her life and didn’t even have the decency to stick around. So she’s going to do the same to him.

Jackson Whittemore → STUDENT

He’s new to it. She can tell. She remembers being where he is. The difference is, she didn’t have some to teach her in the beginning. She had to fend for herself for her first few years. So she’s decided to take Jackson on as a sort of student. She’ll teach him the ropes of his new life. She hated it in the beginning so she’s determined to show Jackson the good and the bad of vampirism. She also knows that he has a daylight ring. Maybe if she helps him learn how to control his hunger, she can get a ring too.

Rebekah Mikaelson → COMPANION

During the twentieth century, Valeria did as much travelling as she could. Her father had always taught her the importance of seeing the world, so that’s what she did. Among her travels, she fell into an odd group. There were a few others, but the light of Valeria’s life was Rebekah. She could recount that her brother and his friend had been there, but Valeria had paid them no attention. All the mischief and mayhem that she unveiled were with Rebekah. The girl was everything Valeria wanted to be. And for a decade or so she travelled along with Rebekah, or at least nearby to join in on any good fun. When Mikael came, Valeria was separated from Rebekah and lost her altogether. She thought she’d never see her beloved friend until she heard some recent murmurs about a certain blonde in Chance Falls.

Stiles Stilinski → TARGET

He knows more than he lets on. She sees him with his friends and even though she’s new to town, she can see a key player when she spots one. She’s trying to befriend him now. If she can get in his good graces she can learn everything she needs to know. It doesn’t hurt that apparently he’s somehow related to Damon? That’ll only make betraying the poor kid that much more fun in the end. She hasn’t decided if he’ll be a snack or just forgotten.