#nibs talks about weapons

[tomatoswup]

Maybe... ☼ 3

summary: a meeting with the priest reveals a bit more information about a certain individual that has you distraught. Vash plushie here to defend!

warnings/tags: reader and wolfwood sibling dynamic, mischevious plushie (biTE HIS ANKLES BESTIE!!!),, wolfwood is giving concussions with the way he rides a motorcycle.

A/N: ....hi? :'D sorry for the late updates hehehe,, i usually write late nights but i've been late night gaming with friends these last few weeks hehe,,, i'VE COME TO DELIVER ANOTHER PLUSH FIC THO☝️☝️

p.s yes this was a scheduled post :p

<previous

Encounters with the priest were those you weren't really that big a fan of.

Although he bullied you like a close sibling, he often got on your nerves with the slick remarks he would shoot at you. But how long has it been? Two years?

Has it really been that long?

It just felt like yesterday when you told him that his grey button up looked like shit and you two wrestled in the sand dunes.

Lovely memories!

"Woah! Look at this!" The Vash plushie gasped out in awe as he ran circles around the modified motorcycle, peeking at the shiny surface of the hot metal.

"Hey be careful!" You called out to the plush as you took slow steps towards Wolfwood as he pushed himself off the ground and brushed the sand off his clothes. Oh look! He changed the grey to white!

...hehehe...

"Well aren't I glad to see you! How long had it been since we last saw each other? Two years now?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, crossing your arms around your chest "Now why is it always whenever we meet you're stranded in the desert? Seems like a memory."

"You know God's timing is sadly always right haha!"

Yikes! You heard the tinge of pain in that one!

"I was making my way to town just a few ways from here. Need help from an old friend of ours." He smirked, putting those shades of his up from his nose and to the top of his head as you gave him a hard stare.

"Alright now enough with the bluffing.." You sighed, putting a hand on your hip.

"Bluffing? What makes you think I'm bluffing?"

...

...

...

"Okay yeah maybe I lied to you the last time about not being a part of the Gung-ho guns but it wasn't that bad-"

"Maybe?! Leaving a PRETTY important piece of information out there buddy! Why should I even still be talking to you, ya know what!-"

"Maybe if you listen to me, you bet your ass you're gonna wanna hear this." You watched as Wolfwood straightened his back and looked out into the desert plains.

"I heard from a few townsfolk around that a certain someones in town."

No.

"You're playing with me Wolfwood, there's no way-"

"He's alive." He breathed out, scratching the side of his neck "The idiot's just hiding."

Hiding.

He's...Hiding?"

HIDING!?! AFTER THINKING HE WAS DEAD FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS!?

You really were gonna kick his ass when you saw him.

You scoffed, putting a hand up to your forehead "Hiding? Got any evidence?"

"HEY!" The squeak of the plush rang out from behind Wolfwood, making the both of you turn your attention to him.

And with that, you met with the sight of the small plushie trying to lift the pistol above his head, fumbling as the gun was clearly too heavy for him "LOOK!" The little nibs of his feet stumbling around the bike seat.

It was Vash's pistol.

Your mouth fell agape "Y-you-"

"This is the only evidence I could give ya' right now." Wolfwood said from behind you as you marched over to the bike past him, softly padding the top of the plushie's head before grabbing the gun.

"Thanks lil' guy..."

You couldn't help but just observe the weapon he always held. Moving it around in your grasp as the sun shined down on it, you saw the dents and cuts of the metal on the surface of the gun. Not too much damage and in honesty, it was in pretty good condition.

The dirt, and sand it had been dusted with had given it a rusted look sure, but with some cleaning, it'll look good as new. Tilting it to the side, you caught sight of the bullets still in the gun's barrel.

Seriously...

Your mouth felt dry and as if they were shut with glue as you tried to push back the growing pressure in your throat. No need to cry now, you can't cry here.

The gun felt hot in your hands, each waking moment you held it felt as if it held the world, and maybe his own.

"Hey you!" Wolfwood's eyebrow rose in wonder as he turned his head to the little thing of a plushie on the seat of his motorcycle, giving him a stern eye and an angry hop. "Don't make them cry!"

Aw he was trying to protect you! Such a cutie~

Wolfwood held back the urge to laugh out loud lol "Now this thing was gonna be my next question!"

He leaned down towards the seat and grabbed the plushie by the hoodie of his poncho, the discontent on the plushie's furrowed brows made the scene more funnier.

"Looks like you've come a long way! I'm surprised you don't have a loose stitch if you're traveling with sunshine over there!" He pointed a thumb in your direction and just maybe you said an unflattering word back.

maybe~

"No offense!"

"All taken!"

"Well! It's nice to meet you! I'm Vash!" The plushie chirped out, swinging his little legs forwards to hug Wolfwood's forearm, before sliding down his arm and up his chest to reach his shoulders.

"Woah there! He's a happy one alright!"

Putting Vash's gun away in your bag for safe-keeping, you watched on as the plush messed around with the priest. Ultimately climbing and just standing on top of his head, he gave you a cute ":P" before jumping up and down.

Pft...

"But who would make plushies of him?" Wolfwood snapped his head towards you with a raised eyebrow "Was it yo-"

"No!"

You leaned on his bike, staring at the plush's shenanigans "I found him while I was traveling. Apparently someones' making them and he was the only one that was um..alive per say."

The plushie now hung off Wolfwood's necklace as you saw the practical 'irk' mark of annoyance on his forehead "Well if god decided to send a little angel down, I'll say you're lucky to have a good companion!"

He shot you a soft smile, one you really rarely saw besides of his usual smirk "You needed one, didn't you?"

You didn't respond, and just watched on as the plushie hung off his ear.

"Ow ow ow-"

Maybe you did...

Time passed and before you knew it, the priest offered you a ride to town on the bike, to save time and as a "team-up" in his own words.

And who were you to decline?

Bag secured on the back of the bike alongside Wolfwood's cross that you had gracefully booted out of the seat, you sat in the little sidecar holding down your cowboy hat with your hand.

"Could you drive any faster!?" You shouted over the sound of the engine roaring, your hair messily getting blown back.

"YOU WANNA DRIVE? BE MY GUEST!" Wolfwood retorted, keeping his eyes forward and his hands on the handles.

Resting your back into the seat, you kept your free hand cupped over the plushie that was sitting on your lap.

"This is so fun!!!" He wiggled around excitedly, having used a scrap of cloth he found as a small scarf that flowed backwards with the wind.

"Careful! I don't want you flying out!" You cried as the two of you almost jumped out of your seats as Wolfwood ran over a large rock.

God please let the both of you live and get to town in one piece, okay maybe you'll have a few scratches here and there but you still had a tall blonde to beat half to death!

You exhaled at the thought. You didn't know how you'd react if you saw him. Mad? Relieved that your lover was still alive? Maybe you'll pop a vein and faint.

Who knows?

Only time could tell...

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Nico 'Nibs' Navarro is based on Nibs from Peter Pan. He is a 26 year old human, personal trainer, and uses he/him pronouns. He has no powers. Nico is portrayed by Miguel Bernardeau and he is taken.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Nico loved nothing more than adventure, and no matter what challenges awaited him and his fellow Lost Boys, Nibs was standing right alongside Peter at the front of the group, battle weapon in hand, ready to take on any and everything with the widest grin on his face. Many deemed him the bravest of the group, always the first to suggest taking on Captain Hook and his crew head on, not caring much for intricate planning or fine details as he was just excited to get into the thrill of it. He could be a bit headstrong at times, the first to start an argument when anyone backed down or suggested “thinking” before doing anything, but to his core; he loved his crew, he loved Peter, and he loved being a Lost Boy. When the Darling’s came, he was the first to offer to teach George and Michael how to fight in a battle, supplying them with branches and sling-shots and even going as far as to make targets for them to practice with. When Wendy went missing, Nibs hopped right into throwing blame at the pirates, begging Peter to plan some kind of ambush so they could get aboard his ship and get Wendy back. When it was clear his plan wasn’t going to be honored, he went off on his own to try and get her back, but turned back up a bit battered and empty handed. Frustrated his efforts had failed, wanting to prove himself, Nibs offered to accompany Peter in their search when they talked about leaving Neverland. He promised he’d be able to help protect him, which in turn, lead to all of the Lost Boys coming along. When the group ended up in Evermore, Nibs was beyond disappointed in their circumstances at first. No pirates to fight, no tall mountains to scale, no woods to run through— what WAS there? Nibs decided to use his skills to get himself a job at the gym as a personal trainer; that was something he knew he was good at. When he wasn’t at the gym though, he was out on the town looking for his next adventure, trying to keep himself on his toes, though part of him wishes he still had the easily accessible adventures of Neverland.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Barrett Olivares: Though Nibs tended himself to be more of a chaotic-good, it didn’t mean he didn’t like getting his hands dirty every once and a while. Barrett had a mischief to him that intrigued Nibs, one unlike he had ever encountered, and he wanted IN. ❀ Elisabeth 'Eliza' Thornberry: Eliza is one of Nibs closest friends besides the Lost Boys. She’s so down to earth, outdoorsy, and likes to get right into the thick of whatever adventure they get themselves going on. It’s a small town, but with Eliza around, it feels a whole lot larger. ❀ Aisha Andros: Nibs has had a pathetic little crush on Aisha since he first met her. She’s pretty, intelligent, sassy… she gets his head spinning. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, of course.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

[itsgeecheebitch]

TITLE: Until Darkness Descends

CHAPTER: 29

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XV

RATING: Explicit

MAIN PAIR: Ardyn Izunia x Reader

SEC. PAIR: Gladiolus Amicitia x Reader

        Your sleep was disturbed when the sun caressed your face. With great reluctance, you opened your eyes to a brightly lit room. Golden light beat against the window and flooded every  inch of your lodgings. You didn’t know what time it was but you were sure it was late, far later than the time you usually woke up. 

         Exhaustion gripped your limbs as you crawled out of bed, feeling like two small children clung to your ankles as you trudged into the bathroom. Rubbing your eyes did little to relieve the burn of sleep, but you busied yourself with getting ready nonetheless. 

        When you ventured downstairs, you were surprised to find everyone you knew congregated in the hotel lobby. The boys, Iris, Jared, and little Talcott, were talking when Noctis looked up and found your gaze. 

          “Look who’s finally up.” He said with a hint of a tease in his voice.

          “Oh, good morning, Aera!” Iris chimed merrily. 

          “Glad to see you joining us.” Was Ignis’ formal input.

       Embarrassed, you made your way to Gladiolus' side. You felt very much like a late attendant to a ball with everyone’s attention falling on you. Saying good morning, your boyfriend kissed your forehead before tucking you under his arm. 

       You were surprised to see that even Noctis, known for prioritizing his beauty sleep, roused before you did. “Hey guys, sorry for showing up so late. I didn’t sleep till morning.”

        “No sweat.” Noctis shrugged. “We were just talking to Talcott.” He turned to the little boy in question. “Wanna tell her what you told me?”

        “You got it.” The boy said with youthful enthusiasm. He detailed a tale about a legendary sword hidden behind a waterfall that was said to be nearby. You knew of only one waterfall that was nearby, due east a few miles from the city. When the boy finished, you looked up at your comrades, each with the same glint in their eyes that was surely in yours.

       “You guys think it's a tomb?”

       “There is no way of knowing for sure, but we are open to the prospect.” Ignis answered.

       “Yeah, it won’t hurt to check it out.”

       “That only leaves Noct, what do you think, buddy?”

        A small grin spread across his face. “I say let’s do it.”

        “Awesome, tomb number three here we come!” Prompto fist pumped into the air as the five of you walked towards the exit.

        “Don’t wait up for us.” Gladiolus delivered over his shoulder before disappearing outside. 

        “You guys be careful!” Iris called out to your fleeting frames. 

      It was a ten minute drive to the area, once you made it to your destination, the violent roar of cascading water was easily heard, even at this great distance. Marching down the steps, the landscape was wrought with slippery slopes and jagged rain slicked rocks, but the five of you maneuvered around them with ease. Once your feet breached the sandy ground leading to the waterfall, a pack of crabs stormed your way. 

      The boys disposed of them quickly while you stayed in the back, wanting to save your weapons for when you were in the cave. Your enhanced daggers were a surprise you hoped your friends would appreciate and your fingers trembled with great anticipation to use them. 

      The sound of water pummeling the river below became stronger as you approached. Cool mist sprayed your exposed skin as you climbed the slippery incline. Prompto was the first to make it to the top, sporting his boyish smile all the while.  

        “Legend says look behind the waterfall.”Prompto recited as he breached the waterfall. 

        “What does the waterfall say?” Ignis replied.

        “I think it says…come in.” A darkened maw stared back at you as the rest of your team followed the blond’s lead. There was a chill in the air as the five of you entered the cave. It nibbed at your arms, causing goosebumps to bloom where the icy teeth sunk into your skin.

     Darkness crowded around you like nosy onlookers before a divulge of light, from your flashlights, parted the shadows. Each step made the air colder like you were stepping into a freezer. Heat gathered in the torso, leaving the rest of your body defenseless to the cold. 

     Icicles hung from the ceiling and climbed up the walls, casting the entire space in an eerie glacial blue. “This place gives me goosebumps, double back for our coats?” Prompto suggested, seemingly reading your mind.

       “What’s the point? A little chill won’t kill ya.” Gladiolus quipped. 

     You rubbed your arms, finding momentary relief in the friction before the chill found purchase on your skin once again. The steep decline in the ground finally leveled, dumping the five of you in the belly of the cave. 

      Gladiolus’ eyes glittered with the expectation of a fight. “Its showtime” 

          “Let’s hope it's not a tragedy.” Ignis said.

          “It sure ain’t a comedy.” Your boyfriend replied back. 

       Their voices froze in the air and all that was left was the crunch of your footsteps against the coarse ground.  The silence only seemed to amplify the ominous aura hanging around you. 

        Prompto’s shaky voice cracked the silence. “Well, looking on the bright side, maybe the cold keeps the daemons at bay?” Wishful thinking, you were sure not even Prompto believed it. 

        Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because monsters like warmth.” He said sardonically. 

            “Ah, sarcasm.”

            “Let’s be on our guard, we could be ambushed at any moment.” Ignis advised and the conversation ended. You walked in silence for what felt like an hour. By now your fingertips were frozen popsicles and the cold pounded in your skull.  

        Just as Ignis predicted, a band of daemons appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The ground glowed an electric blue before grotesque monstrosities emerged from the rocky surface. Their skin was a murky gray, like the sky before a storm, their limbs long and thin, with claws on each bony finger. 

        You summoned your blades just as Noctis warped through the first daemon. The rest of the boys sprung into action, swords slicing through muscle, and bullets tearing through the air. The sounds mingled in your ears and made your fingers jitter with nervous excitement. 

         It was now or never. Throwing a dagger, it pierced one of the daemons in their forehead. Its ear shattering wail was cut short the moment it combust into flames. 

        “Woah, look at Aera go!” Prompto cried, stopping mid fight to admire your handiwork. Whipping out his flare gun, a burst of white light exploded above your heads. The daemons screeched in pain, their skin sizzling from the unforgiving light. 

         Three more daggers soared through the air, one by one the daemons fell to your hungry flames. The fetid stench of burning flesh threatened to turn your stomach, but nothing could dampen the euphoric high of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were doing it. You were proving your worth. Not even the boys could take their eyes off you as you delivered the monsters to their fiery deaths. 

         Gladiolus whistled in admiration. “Nice shot, babe.” He said, sweeping his blade clean through the middle of his opponent. 

         Eventually, the battle ended. You watched as the decapitated bodies disintegrated into dust. Black scorch marks marred the frozen earth where your victims once stood. A lively cheer tore you out of your thoughts and you watched as Prompto rushed to your side. “You were totally awesome!”

         The rest of your friends congregated around you with Gladiolus placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes glittered with pride. “That’s my girl.”

         “Where’d you get elementa spells from? I don’t remember giving you any.” You turned your head to find Noctis approaching you. The suspicion in his deep blue eyes sliced through you. 

          Your mouth dried under his heavy scrutiny, you floundered in search of a reply. Revealing where the spells came from would be a bad idea, and you had no way of answering how or why Ardyn had access to such a tightly guarded magic. It was a mystery you would have to crack yourself, and not one the boys would take too kindly to hearing about. Assembling an answer, you said, “oh um…I just had some left over from training.” You shrugged for added effect. Every member of the Lucian courts had basic training in elementa magic, even Prompto. It was the most believable answer you could give, and you hoped the prince wouldn’t see right through it. 

         “I got the idea to infuse them with my daggers last night.” His eyes softened after that, your taut muscles relaxed in great relief. 

         Turning away, Noctis approached a naturally carved archway before saying, “let me know when you run out, I’ll make you more.”

          Ignis nodded in approval. “Good idea, Noct. This could prove advantageous in future battles.”

          The temperature plummeted lower and lower as your group descended into the bowels of the cave. A layer of frost coated your limbs like flecks of snow, robbing your skin of the remaining warmth it had. A cloud of air appeared before you every time you exhaled and your nostrils burned as though you were dunked head first into icy waters. 

       It seemed you weren't the only one battling the cold as Prompto rubbed his naked arms furiously, his teeth chattering together in a useless attempt to generate heat. "Ugh, I have an ice cream headache without the ice cream."

       "Tell me about it, I can barely feel my toes." You said. It felt like you were dragging blocks of ice instead of feet.

       "I sure hope we didn't come here for nothing."

      "We should find something if we keep looking." Gladiolus chimed in but his words didn't bring you any comfort. The temperature in this cave was dropping so low it felt like it was freezing the skin off your face. You could even feel your eyelashes at this point. 

       Noctis led the group to an enormous chamber consisting of a network of slippery paths. You could feel the ice bleeding through the soles of your sneakers as though you weren't wearing any at all. By now your toes were tingling with the sting of a million wasps. You took one hesitant step onto the path and felt the ground slip from beneath you. Fear bludgeoned your heart as gravity shoved you towards the edge of the path. Fortunately your foot caught on a rock, blocking you from falling off the edge.

         Relief stilled your racing heart and you laid there numb to the frost piercing through your clothes. 

         "Babe, are you alright?!" Your boyfriend cried.

         "I'm fine, thank gods. Just give me a minute, I'll make it back up."

          "No, don't move, I'll come get you." He said. Gladiolus crept slowly away from the rocky wall and towards the slope that led to your current position. You could practically hear the thoughts flying through his head, the impossibility of your retrieval, the narrow slope that led to an endless fall. You could see the questions in his eyes and knew there was no way he could help you without jeopardizing himself.

        Your stomach twisted. Just when you thought everything was going well. There was a stirring coming from below, so faint your ears barely registered it. 

       Alert, Ignis' body tensed and his manicured eyebrows pulled together. "There is something nearby." As soon as the words left his mouth, a piercing shriek bellowed through the cave like a freight train. Destruction was evident in the rumbling that emanated from below. Enormous structures tumbled to the ground in a chaotic boom. Your ears popped when something gigantic burst through the sheets of ice that made up the slope. 

        The slope crumbled around the white pillar that slammed through it. Fear clawed it's way into your throat as gravity dragged you down into the dark depths of the cave.

[nibeul]

Hi, this is the clone armor anon from clonehub's blog. You said you could help with the armor colors? There's no rush or anything, I wouldn't be able to do anything with it for a while anyway. (I also totally sent that anon like a minute before I went to bed so I didn't see your reply until way later anyway)

oh yeah sure, totally forgot sorry! I’m not sure which divisions/subdivisions you’re looking for specifically, but here are a few! The 212th, 501st, and 104th are given, so I won’t include them here, but these are a couple other that aren’t really given spotlight:

327th use dark yellow paint for their armor. I used a picture of Bly above, though here’s a screenshot from the movie too where you can see the armor color, the lighting makes it a bit tricky but the yellow hint is still there! The show also has a couple shots during the Jedi Crash episode

There’s also the 41st Elite Corps who use green! They have the most variation in armor paint from what I’ve seen, ranging between the regular greens then various camo prints (which u can see on the right!). I can’t remember the names of the episodes show they appear in, but there’s the one with Nute Gunray being broken out of Republic hold with Ventress and the Senate Guard traitor, then there’s also the second battle of Geonosis.

Then we have the 91st Mobile Reconnaissance group who have a reddish-brown color for their armor. They appear on Ryloth and Neyo (guy below) also appears during the droids + Gregor arc in the show

Doom’s unit (top) also rocks a similar green but with a grey armor base instead of a white one! They appear on Ringo Vinda during the chip arc. There’s also Halsey’s unit (hard to tell from Trauma in the left photo, but it’s a dulled green!) and Horn Company. The former is seen during the Massacre on Devaron and the latter, when Grievous boards Eeth Koth’s ship

Their armor paint is also kinda similar in color to the Galactic Marines (formerly known as the 21st Nova Corps)! And also kinda the 104th pre malevolence, though I think the Wolfpack had a more brown tinge

I think these guys appear on Geonosis with Mundi but Bacara isn’t there for some reason. It’s possible that Mundi was just assigned to another sub division for the assault, can’t quite remember if they had the same armor color though..

Anyway, Stealth Ops are next! Unlike the other divisions, their armor has a base color of black/dark grey normally with yellow or red highlights (I’m pretty sure these highlights also denote rank, might be wrong though). These guys pop up over Christophsis when they’re trying to get supplies to Organa’s refuge camps

Corrie guard has solid red! You can see them in the Wrong Jedi episode/whole arc, the Hardeen arc, and also peppered throughout Revenge of the Sith. Reds/colors with red tones definitely seem to be pretty popular across the board now that I’m looking at this list, though the CG are the only ones where it’s just flat out red

I’m at the image limit now, but those are all the ones I can remember off the top of my head anyway. Hope that helps!

[angrelysimpping]

out of curiosity, what are the character's like in the killer au? (like what people do they typically go for, how do they kill, etc etc)

(Talk of murder)

Alex

Accidental killer. Their first kill was the pervert who hangs around the farm. They just wanted to drive them off. Just rough them up a little. Give them a black eye and a bloody nose. Maybe knock a few teeth loose. They didn't mean to kill them! At least, that's what Alex says. Someone who knows Alex well might notice how the corners of their mouth turn up a bit during their story about the pervert, even as tears run down their face. Doesn't wear anything to cover their identity, uses their hands to kill but will use farm tools if they need to.

Avery

Killing off people they think are below them. Like, someone who got drunk and spilled their drink on Avery. Or, someone who banged their shoulder against Avery while walking and didn't apologize. Works hard for there to be no evidence that they're the killer. They got a mask, voice changer, inserts in their shoes to change their tracks, multiple layers of clothes to change their body shape. Doesn't have a signature weapon.

Bailey

Hired killer. Keeps an orphanage running because it's a good cover. Has a network of people working under them, rarely has to do anything themself. If they have to 'take care' of someone themself, they wear a silver mask and use a gun with a silencer. Has also been known to use their gun as a blunt weapon.

Eden

Stay off Eden's lawn! They just want to be left alone! Just leave them alone! Eden is killing people who are getting too close to their cabin. They can't keep people out of the forest altogether, they have come to accept this. It's if they run into someone close to their home that they kill them. It's easy for Eden to sneak up on someone and snap their neck. It saves them bullets, too. They need those for the wolves. Doesn't wear a mask, doesn't need to. Unfortunately for Eden, the fact that people have disappeared in the woods actually draws more attention to them.

Great Hawk

Creature feature. GH is just hungry. Just wants a little snack. Just a nib.

Kylar

Only kills when in a fit of hysteria. Targets people close to their darling. The only person their darling needs is Kylar. They're sure their darling will understand that Kylar is doing this to protect them. Those other people were poisoning their darling, trying to trick them into thinking Kylar was bad for them. It's all for the best, their darling will see that in the end. Kylar tranqs their victim and gets them to a secondary location. Varies in how they kill. Doesn't use their knife often.

Leighton

Films their murders and posts them to the dark web. They could make bank, but they're doing it for a weird sense of artistry. Targets people who are lewd in public. Wears a ski mask just in case their face gets caught on film either directly or in a reflection. Carries a knife on them but likes to improv their weapons.

Remy

I want to say that they abduct people to keep as human pets and let the ones that don't work out become cattle. The ones who are too troublesome, they put into a giant, saw-esque, death maze. They livestream the disobedient beasts going through the maze to the dark web so they can make a profit on their victim who couldn't be good cattle and produce. If the beast can make it through the maze, Remy says they'll let them go. They wouldn't. But that's what they say to make the beast actually try to get through the maze. There isn't even an end to the maze. There is no way out.

Robin

Surprise twist killer. Has everything planned out. Every single detail. They're targeting people who take advantage of the weak. Bailey, Leighton, and Whitney would be the type of people Robin would target. Always has an alibi. Wears a simple, easy to acquire mask that anyone could buy. Makes sure their victim knows who killed them.

Sydney

Pure Sydney doing it because it's temple sanctioned. They're killing sinners so it's fine, right? Uses various religious items to kill their victims. Does a prayer over their victim's bodies. They're sure the sinner is in a better place now. They've done something good. Has specific temple-ordained regalia they wear when they are about to kill someone.

Corrupt Sydney is going wild. Plays with their victim, toying with them. Draws a smiley face on their victims. Targets those who are cruel to others. Also kills with religious-themed items, but for the irony rather than any religious reasons. Would target anyone who messed with their partner in a heartbeat. Wants their partner to join in their killing "as one."

Whitney

Very Scream inspired. They target anyone who annoys them. Might target anyone who tries to touch their slut. Doesn't have a consistent kill method but carries a cricket bat on most kills. Wears a mask with devil horns. All of their kills have something of a sexual undertone to them. Toys with their victim.

Wren

Doing it for the sheer chaos. Wren is just getting a kick out of it. Doesn't have a specific method for killing but leaves a worm on string calling card. Tends to pick people who they think would put up a good fight, give them a bit of fun.

[alicee1]

Stories of time (I)

Platonic! SBI x GN! Reader

Warnings: none 

Word count: 2.1K

Synopsis: You tell the story of the Soldier, the Poet and the King, and place the book in Karl’s library for past Phil to find. Maybe with this, you’ll be bale to prevent the suffering and pain the family goes through in their future, which is your history. Inspired by the animatic ‘The soldier the poet and the king’ by  ‘Кир!!!’. Contains memories and mild angst.

Requested: No

A/n: I actually wrote the sequel to this first and this part after when i wasn’t satisfied with the sequel and couldn’t add the bits i wanted to. Then i came up with this and it was so much fun to write, and i really enjoyed it. For story purposes some details may be switched around. 

Italics are memories

Stories of time (II), Rules, Masterlist

Your hand wavered, quill gripped in your hand with ink ready at the nib, although you hesitated before putting it on the paper. So much had happened, everything was a chaos, but where did the story truly start?

Simply writing down what would happen in their future wouldn't do, it would throw everything for a loop and have unforeseeable effects.

No, you had to be discreet about this. If you wanted to change anything, then you'd have to be careful with your words.

Setting the quill on the paper, you started to move, words forming on the parchment paper as you weaved sentences together to form a story. On occasion your hand wavered, memories flashing through your mind as you wrote the words.

Telling a story that wasn't yours.

Not yours to know, to change, and perhaps to tell.

But you couldn't leave things as they were now. Too much had happened, too much pain, suffering, and anger.

The words turned to sentences, turned to a story.

Your eyes scanned the words, "There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword. He will tear city's down, empires down, people will speak of him as immortal."

A pained sigh left your lips as you remembered Technoblade. You hesitated, although you wanted to name the male in the book, you knew the weight it would ultimately carry.

"He will lead revolutions beside the most important figures in history, take down armies on his own, before raising one of his own, an army full of hounds."  

Skipping a line, you put down the quill on paper once more, "There will come a poet, who's weapon is his words. He will slay you with his words."

Wilbur. He had been there since the beginning, perhaps he started the story all together. He formed L'manburg and tore it down. He died by the hands of his father before returning again.

"Able to turn anyone to his side, motivate people in the darkest of times. He will tell stories, lead men and create great things with his words alone."

For a moment you reconsidered, maybe this wouldn't work. There was an uncountable amount of books in the library, getting in there at the right moment was the easy part, it was much harder however to get it to Phil. You couldn't show yourself to him, he wouldn't even know you and in the end it would only complicate things.

Nevertheless you forced yourself to continue writing.

"There will come a king, who will lead countless of men." Tommy. He had been there at the beginning of L'manburg and fought for its survival, seen it rise and fall.

Once more you remembered how young he was during all of it, he had gone through so much that you could barely keep count. He fought for, and with, his friends countless of times to protect what he believed in.

"He will raise nations, lead men into battle and come out victorious. His confidence will be earned, and he will have people look at him for guidance."

Hours passed as you wrote, but your quill only left the paper to get dipped into ink once more. Lost deep in thought you told the stories that were written in your history.

"The poet motivates the people, those following him, and the king. He will be someone people turn to for guidance, for advice."

Tommy looked at Wilbur, eyes unbelievable as the older male placed his hand on his shoulder. His face was stern, forced by the pressure and stress he was enduring.

"Tommy, we can't keep talking now, this is it. This is where we take it all back. Either that, or we get nothing… Are you ready?"

 Memories flashed before your eyes as you recollected the events. It felt as if L'manburg was from a distant past, somewhere far away, a lifetime ago, with everything that had happened in between.

Shaking your head, you gathered your thoughts, pulling them back to the parchment in front of you as you continued writing.

"The soldier will stand by his king, protecting him, putting his trust and loyalty in him."

 We have something you'll never, ever, have," a smirk formed on his face, confident and mischievous, "We have The Blade"

He had been forced on his knees before, but from the trees behind him a large figure emerged. Cloaked, with his face hidden behind a large pig skull, and a glowing Netherite axe in his hands.

Techno placed his hand on Tommy's shoulder, who couldn't help his smile growing bigger as Techno positioned himself in front of him.

 "but the king will rule, and his people will follow him into battle. He will bring hope to those standing beside him, those who put their trust in him"

 "It's all destroyed." Niki's mutter was almost inaudible over the loud chaos that ensued in front of them. The hellish withers floating over the area and raining down their destruction over the hole where once had stood a powerful nation.

"No, it's not all destroyed yet, Niki! Kill the withers!" Maybe Tommy's persistence was naïve, but it motivated those around him.

"We need to take them down together, now everyone!" Gathering them to head into the battle with him, taking down the creatures one at a time.

 All the good things come to an end, and maybe L'manburgs end was too soon, but for the time it lasted it was magnificent.

"These people will leave their imprints on history, influencing the world around them in unthinkable ways. Although they won't be able to last forever."

You dipped the quill into the ink pot once more, allowing it to scratch over the paper as you continued the story.

"The poets gift will become his downfall, for his words cannot save him, and his wondrous mind will betray him with lies and deceit. He will lose himself in his own mind, where the end shall near for him."

 The smile on his face was tired, but satisfied. Oh so satisfied.

He stood in the dark room, hand caressing the button as his father stood across from him. He hadn't seen him built the nation, but he would see the end of it.

The amount of TnT hooked to the button made his heart beat faster in an unnatural kind of way, a satisfaction he wanted to achieve. His hand reached for the button, as Phil reached for him.

"It was never meant to be."

He couldn't reach him in time, hearing the hiss of the TNT setting off around him. He couldn't stop his son from pressing the button, so he protected him from the damage instead.

He sacrificed his wing as it shielded the two of them from the stone as the room collapsed on itself.

"My L'manburg Phil! My unfinished symphony, forever unfinished!" His voice was loud, madness evident within as he yelled out, looking over the ruined landscape before him.

His companions, who he once had considered his closest friends looked at him from a distance, from the battlefield. They looked confused, mad, although they struggled to believe what he had done to the nation he had helped built.

"Kill me Phil, kill me!"

Maybe he hadn't been here for the beginning of the nation, but he could see how his son had lost himself in the process he hadn't been there to witness.

Wilbur collapsed in his father's arms, Phil's blade pierced through his chest as he laid limp on the ground.

 Unconsciously, tears had formed in your eyes at the memories. Blurring your vision as you stopped writing for a second, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you gathered your thoughts. The book had been filled steadily over the past hours as you wrote, reminiscing in the old memories.

"The soldier, bound by the loyalty and trust he put in those who he deemed worthy, will fall to that same loyalty and trust. He will be betrayed by those whom he trusted, stabbed in the back by his friends and companions."

 Rage filled his veins at the sight. How could he have been so blind? How did he not see that coming? History repeated itself, it always had and always would. How were they ignorant enough to ignore that?

He acted on instinct, years of training and battles had automated his movements. Voices chanted the same words in sync in his mind, fuelling the rage inside him.

"I did not spent WEEKS! Planning this revolution! GIVING YOU GUYS POWER! For you to go in, and replace one tyrant with another!" The words left his mouth without filter, and he didn't regret any of it.

They had it coming for them after deciding to betray his trust.

 You were nearing the end of the book, the amount of pages left thinning out as you continued. Hours had passed, although you weren't sure how many it had been at this point, just that it had been many.

"The king will turn everyone on him, for he will never be able to satisfy everyone. He will be exiled from his land, abandoned by his closest friends, and suffer before death will arrive as a sweet release"

 Tommy's eyes widened, watching the stage in front of him in disbelief. His hand anxiously tugged at the sleeve of Wilbur's uniform, "Will?" his name came out unsure.

They couldn't do more than watch the scene in front of them play out helplessly, holding their breath anxiously as the male on the stage spoke.

"My first decree as president of this great country, Manburg, is to REVOKE! The citizenship! Of WILBUR SOOT, and TOMMY INNIT!" all eyes seemed to turn to them as Wilbur watched on from beside Tommy in disbelief.

He motivated Tommy to start running, feeling an arrow pierce his shoulder as he took off behind him, away from the nation they created.

  They stood in Pogtopia, Wilbur standing in front of Tommy in the brown cloak he had traded for his L'manburg uniform.

"Tommy, when I said you will never be president, you've got to understand, that was never a challenge." Tommy looked confused at the older male, his brother, the one he would lay his life on the line for.

"That's the truth. You're never going to be president Tommy." An almost taunting smile played on his lips as Tommy looked at him, the pure disbelief and hurt evident on his face.

  Techno's posture was broad, towering over him with ease as he spoke, voice eerily calm making a shiver shoot up his spine.

"Tommy the thing is, you're using words." Techno spoke, for once the mask didn't cover his face, allowing him to see the way his eyes squinted at him.

"The thing about this world, Tommy, is that the only universal language is violence. And we've had that conversation. We've spoken that language. In the pit." Techno turned away from him, grabbing the mask and positioning it on his head as he moved to the exit of Pogtopia where Wilbur stood waiting.

"It's over Tommy, onto a new day, a new plot, to destroy Manburg." He turned his back to him, and despite his collected composure, Tommy had heard the way his voice rose when he spoke of the pit.

Techno had left him for Wilbur and Dream.

  Now he was faced with the one person that had started all of his suffering to begin with. The curtain of lava fell back down behind him as he stepped off the platform and took one last look at Sam.

It didn't take long for the lava to entirely cover the entrance of the cell once more, leaving him alone in the isolated cell with Dream. The one person he despised most on the entire server.

Loud sounds echoed through the walls of the prison, it was almost as if an explosion went off. Furrowing his eyebrows, Tommy turned back to the lava wall, anxiety rising inside him as he called out for the warden.

"Sam? Let me out! Sam what are you doing?"

"SAM LET ME OUT!"

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (04)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death

Notes: Okay so, not much to say about this chapter. You'll find out why :) Please mind the new tags :) we don't want anyone getting triggered here. Fun fact: every time I write "x growled" I imagine Perry the platypus from Phineas and Ferb doing his signature growl lmao. Cracks me up every time :D

AO3 Link        Masterlist

Game, “Akazukin: Red Riding Hood.”

Everyone’s eyes are locked on the screen.

“Red Riding Hood has to run from the Big Bad Wolf while being protected by the Huntsman,” starts the robotic voice. “One person will be Red Riding Hood, while the others will be divided into two groups: the Big Bad Wolf and the Huntsman.”

“What the- “

“Clear conditions,” the voice continues, “Whoever manages to bring Red Riding Hood to the final checkpoint, wins. The time limit is thirty minutes. After thirty minutes, the losing group dies. If after thirty minutes no one is in possession of Red Riding Hood, both groups die. Is instant Game Over if Red Riding Hood dies or refuses to follow the rules.”

You were terrified of this tale as a child; you had nightmares of an actual wolf coming in the night and devouring you and your mom. Then you had grown up and realized how the tale could be interpreted as a warning to Omegas when it comes to Alphas and their manipulative nature. That hadn’t changed your opinion on the story.

The screen changes to white.

“Now for the groups,” says the voice once again, “Red Riding Hood- “

You gasp; it’s you. It’s a picture of you. You’re Red Riding Hood.

“Big Bad Wolf- “

Your eyes go wide again; Niragi and Chishiya.

“How unoriginal of them,” you hear Chishiya remark with a huff.

“The Huntsman-” and it shows the faces of everybody else in the game. There’s a pregnant pause where everyone just stares down at their phones as it dings.

“Rules,” reads the voice, “No outside weapons allowed. There are axes, as well as other useful weapons hidden throughout the area that are only to be used by the Huntsman. The Big Bad Wolf is not allowed to use any weapons besides the ones already in their possession.”

“What weapons?” you ask no one in specific as you look at Chishiya and Niragi.

They both raise their hands as Chishiya simply replies, “Claws.”

You make a surprised sound, “How are you supposed to protect yourselves like that!?”

They both look at you, and this time is Niragi that says, “I don’t know about this dog but I can do a lot with these.” You don’t fail to notice the threat in his voice as he looks down at Chishiya. The other man just huffs out a laugh.

“The game will commence in five minutes,” says the voice in a cheery tone, “Use that time wisely.”

A commotion erupts as everyone starts realizing what the game consists of. You can’t believe it yourself; you’re nothing more than a pawn in this game. Shouts of “We have to fight two Alphas to death?” and “We can do this, there’s a lot of us.” start all around you. Someone is crying. Some people just run into the dark. You ignore the loud voices around you and focus on your phone as it lights up.

If you stop running or hiding, it’s game over. If you show yourself to the Wolf, it’s game over. If you try to cheat in any way, game over. 

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Niragi is looking at you with that expression you hate; betrayal and pain. But now there's also serious determination.

"No matter what you do, you can't stop running," he says. "This seems way too easy for a Ten of Spades, so watch your back."

"What about you?" you ask, eager to cover his hand with yours.

"Oh, so now you worry about me?" he retorts with a bite to his words. You can't help but flinch when his hand drops to his side and his expression changes to a mean smirk. "I'll live so I can kill that motherfucker and make you regret the moment you fucked him." 

"Niragi I- " 

"Save it," he turns your back to you. "I don't wanna hear it." 

You see him walk away, approaching the two other militants that came with him. At least the imminent game made him pause his murder attempt. You take a glance at Chishiya, who is still focused on the screen. You wonder what is going through his head; if you know something about Chishiya is that he always catches details others don’t.

"You!" someone pushes you in the back, and you fall to your knees before you can balance yourself "Who the hell are you?”

Two different growls sound at the same time someone lunges themselves to whoever pushed you. You look up to see Chishiya in front of you in a protective stance. You take the hand he offers you and stand up to see Niragi, currently on the ground punching a man.

“Niragi stop!” you scream. He either ignores you or doesn’t hear you. No one else tries to stop it either; Chishiya simply because he doesn’t care, and everyone else out of fear. The man being beaten tries to fight back but is clearly at a disadvantage. You gasp when you see Niragi’s fingers take the shape of claws. You jump, grabbing his arm before he can slice the man right in the face. “Stop!”

Niragi looks back at you with yellow eyes, and you see as his hand takes a human form again. You pull him out of the crying and bleeding man on the ground. He doesn’t make any effort to stop you. His eyes are locked on you, still animal-like.

“You- you’re part of the game, aren’t you!?” coughs the man Niragi had punched. He sits down holding his nose, quickly dragging himself away from the other man. “You- you have to be!”

“E- Excuse me? you shakily ask in a confused tone. 

“You’re not even a player, you’re just part of the game!” the man continues, “Are you gonna tell me that is a coincidence that this game is the way it is?! All you have to do is follow some rules! You live either way!”

You shake your head, “I- I am not sure what you’re implying, but I have nothing to do with this!" you reply. You confess that yes, you think it’s a big coincidence you got the role you got, but you’re not involved. You had no idea.

The man takes a step in your direction, but Niragi puts himself in the way.

“Watch it,” he says in a commanding tone. “Remember who you’re talking to.” The man holds his stare for a moment, before looking down and taking a step back. Niragi turns to the rest of the group. “Whatever you shitheads are thinking, she’s not involved in any of this. So, unless you wanna die before the game even begins, I advise you to shut up and focus on the game.” The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk, and you see the glint of fangs. “May the best wolf win.”

He then turns to you and your eyes lock. You want to talk to him, explain how and why things happened the way they happened. But you can’t say anything, not when he steps closer with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

“You’re wasting time, go!” Niragi orders as he pushes you forward. You stumble a little as you start walking into the dark park. You look back at him and Chishiya, and you nod to each other; they will be able to find you. You’ll be alright. They will be alright.

You bolt into the night. You can barely see anything in the dark, except for the shadows that the moonlight helps casting. You just know you have to run, or you’re dead; they’re dead. The conversation from moments ago keeps playing in your head; could it be possible that this game was made specifically for you? But how would they know that the three of you would be in the same game? It sounded so far fetched; but also...possible.

Hunting horns blast through the air, making you jump and cover your ears at the awful sound. You know what it means.

Game Start.

You start hearing rustling and footsteps behind you as the other players soon follow in your steps; if to catch you or find a weapon, that you don't know. You keep running until you’re out of breath, stopping for just a few seconds behind a large tree. Your legs are shaking and your lungs are burning. The area around you is silent though, and that gives you some peace of mind. You close your eyes and sniff the air. Nothing. 

You’re about to start running again to look for an actual hiding place when a sound makes you freeze in your tracks.

A howl.

And not from a regular wolf. You recognize it instantly.

Never in your life had you heard a werewolf howl until now. After the war, an Alpha fully transforming very rarely happened. The ones that did only transformed in extreme situations, usually to protect a loved one. The regular individual would not transform not even once in his lifetime. And here you are, hearing two of them. It awakes something primitive in you, and every single hair on your body stands up in a shiver. You have an impulse to howl too, but control it at the last second; you’re not doing that. You’re not an animal, as much as the wolf inside you likes to prove you wrong.

You’re startled when a hand covers your mouth, something cold pressing against your neck. You try to move, but the blade nibs at your skin. So you stop, trying to control your breathing.

“Don’t you dare to make a sound.” whispers a male voice. “I’ll chop a finger for every sound you make.”

You give a trembling nod, letting yourself be dragged by the unknown man. He’s way taller and stronger than you, so you don’t even try to fight back. You notice he’s not alone. What seems to be two young girls walk behind you, whispering in agitated voices. 

“Kai, are you sure the checkpoint is this way?” asks one of the girls in a low tone.

The man grabbing you, Kai, shushes her and stops. You can hear him sniff the air, probably looking for signs of an Alpha close by. He suddenly pushes you against a nearby tree and locks eyes with you. You’re surprised to see that Kai is not much older than a highschool boy.

“Mira, press this against her neck,” he whispers to one of the girls. She approaches you, trembling hands holding the small ax against your skin. The boy stabilizes her grip before nodding, “Don’t let her move or make a sound,” he says looking into the girl’s eyes. “If you do and those Alphas hear us, we all die.”

If you’re honest with yourself, you would stay quiet either way; the last thing you want is the blood of those kids in your hands. You watch as Kai takes a map from his pocket, opening it and analyzing it for a few moments.

“If this map can be trusted I’m pretty sure the checkpoint is this house right here,” he points at a place on the map and then ahead on the path, “About three kilometers that way. We can do this.” he checks his phone. “C’mon, we only have about twenty minutes.”

You have been walking for a short moment when the smell hits you.

One of them is close; Niragi, you’re pretty sure. The others smell him too, and you notice in the dark as their eyes widen in a panic and they start running, pulling you with them. You can hear him as he gets closer, like a monster in the night. You try to ignore the exhilarating feeling that goes through you at being chased by him; it’s just like the first time you met.

One of the girls trips and falls right behind you. You flinch at hearing her screaming get louder until it abruptly stops. The other two kids hesitate before Kai stops, pushing you and the other girl to keep running. The girl, Mira, grabs your hand as you both run, and you can hear her crying.

A far away whimper of pain makes you stop in your tracks; one of the Alphas was injured.

“We have to go, please!” begs Mira as she pulls your hand, “Please, we have to-”

Mira’s words are cut short when she falls and you’re pulled down with her. You gasp in pain as you hit the ground, arm stretched into whatever hole the girl fell into. You hear a scream, then silence, as you hear a sound you can’t quite place. It’s dark and you’re not sure of your surroundings, but you could swear that hole on the ground wasn’t there seconds ago.

You’re about to ask if she is okay when the metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils. You squint in the dark, trying to see something in the black hole. The moonlight appears out of nowhere, and you can finally see. You gag when you notice the contorted body of the girl, now impaled in wood spikes. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in a permanent scream.

There are traps.

There are traps everywhere and you can’t see them.

You drag yourself away from the hole, feeling a panic attack start to form as you struggle to get air inside your lungs. You try to shake the image of the dead girl from your mind, shakily rising to your feet. Your phone gives an alarming beep, and you take a look at the screen to realize you have been in the same place for too long. You have to keep moving.

You shake the tears from your eyes and walk by the hole without a second look. 

A scream far behind you snaps you out of your stupor, and you immediately take off running again. You don’t want to think about what might be happening. Despite their numbers, you can’t imagine how Betas can ever win against two fully transformed Alphas.

You’re running through an open field now, surrounded by flowers that you can barely see. A noise to your left makes you look at the line of trees, but you can’t find the source of the sound. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the open trap right in front of you.

You scream as the dented iron snaps around your ankle, pain sparking up your leg. You fall to the ground like a bag of potatoes, and immediately try to open the trap up. But you’re not strong enough, and the iron teeth just dig deeper into your skin. You control a sob as the pain and panic grow; you have to keep moving. You have to hide. A sound, now closer, makes you stop whimpering, and you hold your breath as you see them.

No, not Niragi and Chishiya.

No, not the Huntsman either.

Wolves. Real, wild, one hundred percent animal wolves. A pack of them. No more than twenty meters from you.

You stay still, hoping that they won’t take an interest in you.

But no. Of course that’s not what happens. 

You look around for something to defend yourself with, but you’re defenseless. Here you are, trapped, wounded, on the ground, and without any means of defending yourself. The wolves approach you slowly, like they know you have no means of escaping. They start surrounding you.

“Stay away!” you scream, shaking your arms in hope that the movement will scare them away. “Shoo!”

It does not.

One of the bigger wolves prepares himself to jump. You close your eyes with a sob, waiting for the moment they will tear you apart. 

He’s here.

You feel the air shift as a big dark form covers you. You’re now completely involved in his scent; cinnamon and wood. You keep your eyes closed and brace yourself. The air is filled with the sound of growls and whimpers and teeth ripping flesh. Something warm and wet splatters on you and you know it’s blood. A loud whimper of pain, a strange mix between a wolf and a human, makes you snap your eyes open.

In the moonlight, he’s huge. Terrifying. Beautiful. Bodies of wolves are on the ground. The survivors try to fight the much bigger werewolf. His fur is black as a raven’s feathers, thick and glossy and matted with blood. You can’t look away until he’s done.

Niragi is clearly tired and injured. Saliva drips from his open jaws as he takes labored breaths. He turns to you, and you notice one of his paws is practically mangled, a shine of white bone contrasting with the black fur. A big oozing laceration runs down one of his flanks, and you’re not sure if it was done by an axe or a wolf.

You snap out of your freezing state and make a move to go to him. You scream when the trap still around your ankle makes itself known. He’s on you in less than a second, hovering over you as his snout touches your leg lightly. You can’t resist the temptation to touch him, grabbing the fur of his neck and pressing your face against him.

You feel him when he suddenly changes back into a human, and your face is now pressed on his bare skin. You notice he’s naked, pale skin now almost fully covered in blood and dirt. A cut you haven’t noticed in his wolf form now clearly shows on his forehead, making blood run down his face like a waterfall.

“Niragi-” is all you manage to say. You want to cry, ask him if he’ll be okay. You panic again when you notice how much time you have left; probably not more than ten minutes. Niragi says nothing as he focuses on opening the trap with a grunt. You let out a cry of relief as the thing leaves your ankle. The wound bleeds profusely, so you take off your top, tying a makeshift bandage around the injury with the help of Niragi.

He finally looks you in the eyes as he helps you to your feet, supporting you against him.

“Y/N we-”

That’s all he manages to say.

The next moments happen so fast you can barely process it. 

An arrow comes flying out of nowhere, burying itself into Niragi’s chest. His eyes go wide as he looks at you, a surprised expression in his eyes. You watch him with an open mouth as his eyes turn to gold for a moment. Then he falls to the ground. Rough hands grab you and pull you. Someone is screaming; you realize later that it’s you. Other voices laugh and they sound...excited? Happy? You can’t understand why. You trash around in an effort to get free. Whoever grabbed you punches you right in the face. For a moment, all you see is black with sparks of white. You hear a faint, “We only have five minutes!”. No. Niragi and Chishiya have to find you. They promised. They can’t die. Then you’ll be alone again.

Someone screams again. Loud voices. People running all around you. You hit the ground with force enough to take the air out of your lungs. Someone tries to grab you again, but their grip disappears like they have been pulled away. Tears are streaming down your face, but you can’t open your eyes. You can’t stand up. You hear the familiar sound of a wolf growl.

Niragi? 

No; peppermint and rain. 

Then you feel something warm touching you. You feel soft fur under your skin. Then it’s like you’re flying. You grab onto whatever is moving under you out of instinct. You know you have to hold on tight. You try to focus, but it’s too much. 

Then nothing. Darkness. You’re not sure if you lost consciousness or not. A loud sound, similar to a siren, is what makes you open your eyes. You’re on the ground, stone cold under you as you try to sit up, covering your eyes from the sudden bright lights. 

A cheery tone comes from your pocket. You stare at the phone; Game clear.

You finally look around, and there he is.

A big white wolf. 

Not as big as Niragi, but still impressive. His white fur is covered in blood; if his or someone else’s, you can’t say. Your vision turves as you try to stand up and lose your balance. He catches you before you can fall, teeth gently grabbing your jacket. You stare at him in confusion; what the hell just happened? A spark of pain makes you look down at your ankle. Memories come rushing back.

You gasp. No. It can’t be.

“Chishiya, where’s Niragi?” you ask in a trembling voice. His cold eyes stare at you for a moment too long. You’re about to make a move to find Niragi yourself when the white wolf changes right in front of you. Like Niragi, the man is naked and mostly covered in blood. There’s a cut on his arm, still bleeding. A wave of concern runs over you, and you feel yourself panic even more. He sighs before his eyes lock on you.

“He’s dead.”

Next Chapter

[ravenscrowsandnerdymagic]

Part 2 of SOC: Servant and Lever (1/3)

" 'I was on time.'

'For you, that's early. Next time you plan to impress me give me some warning.' " (pg 109)

an accurate representation of me

"Another demon. This one walked with soft feet like she'd drifted in from the next world and no one had the good sense to send her back." (pg 113)

this is a mean thing to say about someone (it's from Matthias' pov), but I do like to imagine Inej as a transparent ghost haunting people to get info.

" 'Don't worry,' Nina said. 'The glower isn't lethal.' " (pg 121)

are you sure about that?

" 'How nice,' Jesper noted. 'A nib for every occasion.' " (pg 122)

if you are going to be a criminal, you might as well commit crimes in style

" 'You guys are going to make this really fun, aren't you?' asked Jesper. 'Usually people don't start hating each other until a week into the job, but you two have a head start.' " (pg 124)

a week? give me three days at most

three things: 1) Matthias is one to talk based on his life so far. 2) this perfectly sums up the characters and their weapon of choice. 3) this is an iconic quote

at least someone has some sense in not wanting to get arrested. Kaz would definitely say "if you get hurt, hurt them back. if you get killed, walk it off." (I think it's from Age of Ultron)

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the back (Part 9)

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

- - -

I know, I said the next Chapter would go up on Monday but it’s getting really long and I had to split it up. Also, I really wanted you to know how Sentiquill’s costume looks like, I spent hours mulling over that! (When I say he’s wearing tails, I mean the evening dress. Does the English language seriously not have a better word for that?!) So here’s the first part, three days earlier than planned:

- - -

Marinette had been witness to more Akuma’s than she could count. As Ladybug, she had a place in the first row guaranteed. She‘d never seen the transformation itself, but the outcome was always the same: disaster, and a villain she had to defeat. Akumas consisted of negative emotion blown to their extreme, concentrated until the person underneath all but vanished. They weren’t the people they had been anymore. These people were simply the host of what had possessed them. As far as she knew, there was no way to stop it once it had begun.

She clung to Felix anyway. Logic and reason didn’t matter anymore, only that this was her friend, her most trusted confidant, and she couldn’t lose him.

“Don’t listen to him!”, she begged and buried her face in the curve of his neck. He was trembling, his eyes unfocused. “Please, don’t listen to him!”

Her fault, this was her fault! He’d been fine just seconds ago, but she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut, could she?

“I’m fine, you see? We don’t need him, we can d-do this on our own!”

A sob escaped her and she tightened her grip, as if she could keep him here with sheer strength alone.

“Please, Felix, stay with me!”

His arms closed around her, and a quivering “Yes” tumbled from his lips. A cold feeling washed over her.

She pressed her eyes shut, imagining it had worked. She’d succeeded. The Akuma had given up, and when she opened her eyes, it would be Felix’ cool grey eyes she’d look into. It would be his voice that told her not to worry, it would be him.

“Marinette.”

She stiffened and took a shaky breath. He still smelled the same. Of ink and fresh paper and coffee. It was easy to pretend nothing had happened.

“Please, look at me.”

She shook her head and Felix sighed. His hands grasped her shoulders and he freed himself from her - supposedly - iron grip to stand up. Even though he made sure to be gentle, the superhuman strength in his arms was still palpable and only confirmed her fears. When she looked at him, she knew she had lost.

“Felix”, she breathed hopelessly.

But it wasn’t Felix, was it? His skin was even paler than before, almost paper white. An inky black mask covered the skin around his ruby red eyes, and his usually combed back hair framed his face freely. She’d never noticed how long it actually was.

A red beret sat on his head, it’s brim decorated with feathers. It was the same color as the uniform jacket that hugged his torso, reminiscent of the British Royal guards. On second look though, it looked like he was wearing tails.

The arms ended in white cuffs that looked more like the nibs of a fountain pen than uniform cuffs.

And in the hand that had held his pen - this goddamn pen - he held a huge... something. It’s hilt was formed like the nib of a quill, and it’s blade looked like a feather, complete with a hollow shaft, downy barbs... There was no use talking around it.

It was a sword. A giant sword. A very sharp looking sword as well.

Oh fuck.

“Sentiquill.”, he introduced himself. Or maybe he was correcting how she’d called him earlier. “Don’t be afraid.” Says the guy with the giant weapon! “It will be alright, now.”

The same words he had used to comfort her earlier now filled her with dread.

“I’m sorry!”, she blurted out. “I’m so sorry! Please, just turn... turn back. We can expose Lila on our own, I’ll think of something! A really good revenge plan, with all kinds of strategies a-and traps!”

Fe- Sentiquill smiled and shook his head.

“I’m not out for revenge. I couldn’t care less about Lila.”

Was that a good thing? Or something even worse?

“Marinette, you mean so much to me.”, he said softly and kneeled down in front of her, since she was still sitting on the ground. “More than you know. Why would I care about something as petty as revenge when I could use my power to protect you? To...”, he pulled a grimace at the pun, “...stand sentinel over you?”

That sounded too good to be true. Too pacifist. She knew Hawkmoth, and he would never create an Akuma with this mindset.

No.

He twisted his victims motivations until they fit his own goals. They were means to an end, and that end surely wasn’t Marinette’s safety.

“And how do you want to do that?”, she whispered, almost afraid to ask. The grimness in his face said everything.

“You’ll go after them.”, she derived. “You’re going to hurt my friends.”

“They’re not your friends!”, he spat and jumped up. “They failed you, betrayed you! But this was the last time they made that mistake, I’ll make sure of that.”

His face turned pleading.

“They have to be punished. For you! So you won’t be hurt anymore.”

His eyes were eerily red, but the look in his eyes was sincere. Genuine conviction that he was doing the right thing.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, Marinette. Just... just stay here and let me take care of everything. And after that, we can do whatever we want! Wait here. Okay?”

No. I am Ladybug, and I have to stop you.

But first, she needed to transform, and that required solitude. So she nodded. As soon as he was gone, she’d run away and hide to change into her spotted costume.

But Felix knew her too well. And that meant, Sentiquill did too. The look on his face made clear that he saw right through her.

“Of course you won’t.”, he sighed. “You’re you, after all.”

He raised his sword and Marinette backed away. They were in the corner of the yard, behind the stairs. Right above them was the walkway to the classrooms on the second floor, if she managed to dodge the first blow, she could run up and-

Before she could fully form a plan, Sentiquill’s sword was between them. But... he didn’t strike her. Instead, he pointed the tip of the hilt - the one that was formed like a nib - at himself until it rested directly on his chest. Black swirls of color appeared on his body, spreading over his jacket as if they were being sucked into the sword.

“I’m scared of becoming like my father.”, he admitted out of the blue and the ink like darkness intensified as it filled the hollow shaft of his quill. “I hate loud voices because he used to yell so much. Being around people drains me and I’m more ashamed for that than I’d like to admit. I’m afraid you won’t want to be around me anymore if I tell you how I really feel.”

The ink only filled up a quarter of the length of his sword, but it seemed to be enough. He lowered the sword again and the black swirls vanished from his body like smoke.

“What... What are you doing?”, she asked and took another step back. Why had he told her this? And what was it about the ink that had appeared out of nowhere?

“Don’t worry, Marinette.”, he said gently as he raised the blade again. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I’m done. I promise.”

With that, the quill sliced through the air and released the ink it had gathered in a powerful torrent. She screamed, but the black fluid didn’t seem to be bound by any law of physics. It spread through the air weightlessly and formed an opaque barrier between her and Sentiquill; a wall that surrounded her like a prison. She jumped up and tried to escape, but as soon as the ink had reached its intended shape, it dried and solidified.

“It won’t be for long!”, Sentiquill’s voice promised from the other side of the wall. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t see anything. The only source of light was the opening of her cylindrical prison, at least three meters above her head.

“No, wait!”, she shouted back. “Don’t go! We can... We can find another way. Come on, don’t leave me here!”

There was only silence from the other side. Then:

“I’m sorry.”

His footsteps receded quickly, likely towards their classroom. Lessons must have begun at least fifteen minutes ago, everybody would be in there. She had to do something!

“I messed up, Tikki!”, she whispered horrified when her Kwami zoomed out of her purse. “It all happened so fast, I-I couldn’t react.”

“This is not your fault!”, Tikki hurried to assure her. “You’ve had enough troubles to begin with. Right now, we need to take care of this particular trouble.”

The tiny creature smiled and patted Marinette’s shoulder.

“We’ll talk about Adrien later. Let’s just hope Chat Noir arrives soon and get to work!”

She nodded. She’d get her best friend back, and if she had to claw him out of Hawkmoth’s cold, dead hands - then so be it!

“Tikki, Spots on!”

-

Alya yawned. She loved Madame Bustier’s lessons, she really did. And she wanted to pay attention. But she was simply so tired! Staying up late again probably hadn’t been a good idea, but if Lila needed her help... the poor girl had so many problems to deal with already, it was only right to do some of her homework for her. And it was not like Lila was simply foisting her work off on her, like Chloé used to do with Sabrina. Nah, Alya had offered it herself when Lila had told her how busy she was organizing the Journalism Junior contest. In return, she’d promised to talk to the hosts about Alya’s report, and she’d even given her another interview.

It was the right thing to help Lila out. But god, it sure got draining after a while.

She looked up when Nino elbowed her lightly.

“You okay?”, he mouthed quietly and she gave him a wobbly smile.

“Yeah, just tired.”

They’d barely had the time to talk, the past weeks. Not that Alya didn’t want to! But every time she tried, something got in the way. Either an Akuma, her blog, Lila’s stories or the ongoing drama between Felix and Lila... there just wasn’t a calm second anymore. And now...

She looked to the back, where Marinette and Felix usually sat. Felix had stormed off after he had yelled at Lila some more - this guy had nerves! - and she didn’t care whether he returned or not.

But where was Marinette?

Her girl had acted so weirdly since she sat in the back. No, ever since Lila had arrived! Alya just didn’t get it. Marinette was awesome, and so was Lila. If that girl would just get over her jealousy, she’d see that too. And damn, someone with Marinette’s talents combined with Lila’s contacts and experience... They’d be a power duo! And they could all hang out at once, which would make Alya’s time management a lot easier. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone with Marinette.

A groan formed in her throat. She was still mad Marinette would choose Felix over her, Alya, first with the seating and then this morning. But... god, she missed her.

Sure, Marinette’s chaotic, clumsy and bubbly personality were a handful from time to time. Lila was right about that. But it was also what made her so charming! She was always genuine, naturally positive and her dramatic humor was just endearing. Being around her always made Alya lighten up, stop her brain for a moment to just... be. Have fun a little. Get down from all her passions and work.

Yep. She really missed that. The more she thought about it, the more absurd Lila’s theory sounded. Marinette wasn’t turning into a bully. It just... wasn’t in her nature. And once everything had settled down a bit, Lila would see that too. Not that she was accusing Marinette of anything. She was just concerned.

“Adrien”, she hissed under her breath, not capable of staying quiet for any longer. The blonde turned around, careful that Mme Bustier didn’t notice. “Where’s Marinette?”

His face darkened all of a sudden, which was so unusual for sunshine boy that Alya had to take off her glasses to clean them for a second. Adrien merely shrugged and turned around, which Lila didn’t miss. She scribbled something on a note and gave it to Alya.

Marinette confessed and got rejected by Adrien, that’s why she’s not here. Poor girl!, it said. Alya gasped. Oh no! Why would Marinette confess all of a sudden when she hadn’t even been on a proper date with him yet? And why hadn’t she told her best friend? Jeez, she was probably heartbroken right now...

She sighed.

Alya might be biased in Marinette’s favor, but she knew that Adrien wasn’t obligated to return her feelings. Still. This sucked.

As soon as she saw her, Alya would tell Marinette to forget Adrien. Wait, no, that was probably too direct. Maybe... gently nudge her away from Adrien? Towards Nathaniel maybe, he was cute! Or that Luka she had told her about? She’d have to be discreet about it, so she wouldn’t upset her any further. Maybe-

A loud crash ripped her out of her thoughts. The door to the classroom was ripped out of its hinges and thrown at the opposite side of the room; her classmates screamed. Alya jumped and hurried out of her seat, pulling Nino and Lila with her to the back. It had been so many attacks the past year, at this point she knew exactly what to do.

“Akuma!”, she warned the class with a shout, just when a tall figure entered the room. Despite the mask, the strange color scheme and the guard-like evening dress it was absolutely clear who he was. Felix’ stern look was unmistakable.

“I apologize for the late arrival.”, he deadpanned and raised what looked like an oversized quill. “But Agreste caused a lot of trouble that I will have to correct.”

Adrien? Trouble? Was he referring to Marinette’s rejected confession? Her eyes widened. Marinette! Had she been with Felix when he was akumatized? Had he hurt her?!

She forced herself to breathe. No, she had to be safe. Felix might be a prick, but everyone could see he had a soft spot for the cheerful designer. She couldn’t exactly fault him for that.

His eery red gaze roamed over the students that had fled to the back and fixed on Lila, who swallowed hard. Alya paled when his face contorted into a malicious grin.

“I think I’ll start with you!”

He pounced and time seemed to slow down. Logic told her to stand back, to escape. What if Ladybug needed Rena Rouge? She couldn’t afford to get taken out of commission! But the emotional side of her mind screamed Lila and Friend and Protect. So she stepped forwards and gave Lila a shove out of the way. Felix’ sword hit Alya instead, directly in the chest. An icy sensation washed over her as the rest of the class watched in horror. But to her surprise, it wasn’t the blade that had stabbed her, but the nib-like hilt. She didn’t feel any pain. Just numbing, terrifying coldness.

“How sweet, a volunteer!”, he mocked her and she trembled. A vague, undirected fear rose in her chest and formed a lump in her throat.

“Felix”, she whimpered, surprised by her own, scared voice. He shook his head.

“It’s Sentiquill. Now how about you show your friends what dark places you hide from them?”

His face darkened.

“Not that you know much about friendship. Why would you abandon Marinette for someone like Rossi?”

She didn’t plan to answer, wanted to scream at him to buzz off, but her mouth didn’t comply her.

“I feel so boring next to Lila’s adventures, so small.”

What?! No, no, no! She didn’t mean to say that!

But she couldn’t stop, not even as black swirls of ink appeared around her, aiming for the sword. She felt as if her greatest fears and demons were sucked out into the open.

“I’m scared to be forgotten, to never reach my dreams. But Lila helps me with that.”

Lila hid behind Madame Bustier, eyeing the door. Was she searching for an escape? Wasn’t she interested in what Alya was forced to admit?

No, of course not. Alya wasn’t important, after all. Just some girl that clung to Lila. She was no one.

“Is that why you leave Marinette to herself?”, Sentiquill snarled gleefully. “Because you’re a pathetic nobody?”

“Marinette thinks Lila is lying. She’s acting so aggressive all the time.”, Alya was forced to say. Sentiquill leaned in, as if he planned to whisper. But when he spoke, it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Let me tell you a secret, Césaire. Lila is lying, and you are wrong.”

The darkness around her amplified as she looked at him in horror. If she’d been in her right mind, she could have denied his words easily. But whatever spell he had her under made her vulnerable to his influence, as if he were forcing the words directly into her brain, making her doubt herself.

“But she’s done so much for me and my blog.”, Alya whispered shakily, trying to fight his magic. “If she lied, all of that would be for nothing. She can’t be lying. She can’t.”

He lowered his sword and Alya broke down, feeling empty. She was no one, she was useless. She had given up everything for a lie. She was a monster to the people she cared about. What had she done?

Her muscles didn’t work, her body didn’t obey her as she fell to her knees, hugging herself. She couldn’t move. Guilt and terror weighing her down like chains.

The only thing she could do was watch as Sentiquill raised his sword, it’s hollow shaft filled halfway up with the ink he’d created from her confessions. A single strike released enough of it to block the door, trapping everyone inside. Everyone? No, Adrien wasn’t here anymore. Must have slipped out when the rest of the class had been frozen in terror. Maybe he’d get help.

Not that she deserved it.

With dull eyes she watched the Akuma walk towards Lila, raising his blade again. This time it was Mme Bustier that sacrificed herself.

“I don’t know how to handle conflict. I don’t care enough to learn.”, he dragged one secret after the other out of her. “I try to make my students clear trouble out themselves because I’m scared they won’t like me anymore if I get too strict.”

Alya heard her, but didn’t really understand her words. The pain in her head was too great, the hopelessness in her stomach too heavy. Only when Lila hid behind Nino - brave, kind Nino - as Sentiquill went after her again she managed to look up.

He’d attack her boyfriend next.

He’d make him just as miserable as her.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Her body slumped, ignoring her wishes. She couldn’t do anything. She was nothing.

The last thing she saw before breaking down for good was a red yo-yo breaking through the window, just in time to knock the quill away. She sighed as the world faded to black.

Nino would be save.

That was all that mattered.

-

Adrien had hid beneath his desk when the door had been kicked in, and slipped out of the room the second Sentiquill had spotted Lila.

Typical for Felix.

Once he had made an enemy, he couldn’t think of anything beyond petty revenge. And now this idiot had gotten himself akumatized.

“I hope Marinette’s alright.”, he told his Kwami as he hid behind a locker. “If she was with Felix when the Akuma possessed him, she was probably his first victim.”

Plagg raced around him before giving him the dirtiest glare Adrien had ever seen.

“If anything, she was your victim first!”, the tiny cat snarled. “What were you thinking?! You were acting like an ass!”

Adrien scowled.

“It’s not my fault she’s so obsessed with Felix that she can’t see reason anymore. If she’d listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Gah!”, Plagg groaned. “You’re so incredibly dense, kiddo! Transform already, before I forget myself and claw your blind little eyes out!”

Adrien pouted.

“Hmph! You’re being ridiculous. Plagg, claws out!”

As soon as the transformation was complete, he went back to the classroom. The door was sealed shut by a solid black substance, but luckily for him, the classroom had windows to the yard he could see through. Ducking so he wouldn’t be noticed, he glanced inside. Alya was on the floor, holding herself as if she might fall apart. Lila was hiding behind Nino, and Sentiquill stood in front of Bustier, who said something he couldn’t hear. Black ink floated around her before streaming up the quill’s nib. When Sentiquill stepped back, Bustier fell to the ground and wrapped her arms around herself, mumbling incoherent words. So that was how Sentiquill’s power worked. He made inkwells out of people, turned their secrets into ink to fill up his sword, then used it to create barriers and walls or whatever. Kind of stupid, just like his costume design.

This would be too easy.

He froze, an idea creeping up on him. Sentiquill’s power wasn’t very challenging for him and Ladybug, that was true. But... Ladybug wasn’t here yet. And if he took out the Akuma on his own, his Lady would only be here to purify the Akuma and disappear again. He hadn’t spoken with her since their last disastrous patrol.

Slowly, he started to retreat, then broke out running and jumped on the roof. There was no need to rush things. He would wait for Ladybug and use the chance to be around her for as long as possible. There were still a lot of other people ready to sacrifice themselves for Lila, so revealing her lies was no immediate threat. A smile appeared on his face when he spotted something red, just before Ladybug’s yo-yo broke through the window.

He’d been right! Now they could talk about why she’d freaked out at him the last time.

Or... he could wait some more. To make his entrance as dramatic as possible, and to remind her how great he was as her partner.

Chat Noir sighed.

He truly was brilliant, from time to time.

[maddrmatt]

Kairi’s Epic Journey: The Quest for Sora

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Chapter 12: The Battle of the Jolly Roger

Never Land

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

“No sign of the beast anywhere!” exclaimed Damien Salt as the pirates continued to peruse the waters.

“There’s not even a bloomin’ ripple,” said Bill Jukes.

“Now men, we can still hear the ticking.  So, until we don’t hear it anymore, we keep looking,” said Smee.

“Perhaps the captain was only hearing things,” said Mr. Starkey.

“Then how come we all can hear it?” asked Mullins.

“Simple.  We’ve put up with the captain’s paranoia for so long that now whenever he thinks he hears the crocodile near, he has a way of making us all think we’re hearing it,” said Mr. Starkey.

The other pirates began to consider this outlandish notion.  But ever faithful Smee refused to believe.  “Now let’s not have any bad talk about our captain, men.  He’d take it as mutiny talk,” he said.

Suddenly, everything went silent.  The ticking had ceased.  The pirates gazed around in confusion.

“There, you see. The crocodile probably realized the captain wasn’t out, so he finally left,” said Smee.

“Then how come we didn’t see it?” asked Damien Salt.

Smee shrugged. “Maybe it’s trying to be sneakier. Heh-heh.  Not that it would help it in the slightest.  I mean the moment we hear that sound; we know immediately…”

“COCK-A-DOODLE DOO!”

The sudden crowing caused Smee and the pirates to nearly jump out of their skins.  They barely had the time to recover from the shock when a flash of green flew out from behind them and float in front of them, laughing his head off.

“It’s Pan!” exclaimed Black Murphy, an unshaven pirate dressed in green.

“Hello, fellas! Nice day, we’re having, isn’t it?” asked Peter as he tipped his hat.

“Why, yes, it is,” said Smee pleasantly causing the other pirates to glare at him.  

Realizing that he was not striking the proper tone, Smee cleared his throat and said, “Peter Pan, what business brings you to the Jolly Roger?”

“Oh, no reason.  Just thought I’d drop by and teach you ruffians a lesson about using my friend as a bait for my other friend!” shouted Peter angrily.

“Friend?” asked Smee confusedly.

“He means me!”

Smee turned around and gasped as he found himself face to face with Kairi as she pointed the tip of Destiny’s Embrace right in his face.  Pluto, Tink and the Lost Boys stood around her glaring at the pirates.

“If there’s one thing you pirates should know, it’s that I don’t appreciate being kidnapped to be involved in plans against my best friend,” Kairi declared as her friends nodded in agreement.

“The prisoner!” exclaimed Bill Jukes.

“She’s been freed!” exclaimed Mr. Starkey.

“Say your prayers, blackguards! We’ll teach you a lesson about how to treat a girl!” shouted Peter as he flew down to Kairi’s side and took out his dagger.

“Get them!” shouted Damien Salt as the pirates, with the exception of Smee, took out their weapons and charged at the Kairi and Peter’s crew.

“Scatter, everyone!  Except you, Kairi!  You stick with me and Tink!” said Peter.

“Right, Peter!” exclaimed Kairi as she ran alongside Peter and Tink while the Lost Boys spread all over the deck with the pirates charging after them.

Smee, however, just stood where he was and watched the battle unfold.  ‘The girl has a Keyblade?  Oh, the captain is not going to pleased about this at all.’

Then he realized what he should have been doing.  “The captain! He should know about this!” he exclaimed as he began to run toward the end of the ship where the captain’s cabin was.

But before he could get far, he was intercepted by Pluto.  His teeth were bared as he growled savagely.

“Uh nice dog?” asked Smee timidly.

Pluto responded with rapid-fire barking. With a shriek, Smee ran with the dog in hot pursuit.  Coming to one of the masts, he leapt onto it and began to climb.

Before he could get far up, Pluto leapt and caught the seat of Smee’s pants in his mouth.  The pants ripped revealing his underwear.  Smee scrambled up further until he was finally out of reach of the dog’s teeth.

“Shoo, dog!  Shoo!” Smee shouted as he kicked his leg at Pluto while clinging on for dear life with the irate Pluto barking at him as if he were a cat he chased up a tree.

In the meantime, the entire deck of the Jolly Roger had erupted into chaos.  Members of both sides were now scattered around engaged in combat with each other.

Kairi and Peter’s side, unfortunately, was at a disadvantage. The pirates were in far greater numbers and since Kairi and Peter were the only ones who could take the pirates head-on, Tink and the Lost Boys were outsized and outgunned due to the pirates being bigger and bearing better weapons.

Fortunately, they had ways of compensating for that.  They had their small size, their cleverness and they knew how to use the environment to their advantage.

“Come back here!” shouted Black Murphy as he chased after Nibs.  But the rabbit-suited boy kept running until he lured the pirate right where he wanted him.

Before Black Murphy knew it, the Twins pulled a cannon across his path.  He tripped over it and slammed face first into the deck.  He moaned in pain.

“You really ought to watch where you’re running!” said the Twins as they and Nibs ran off.

At the same time, Cubby had come to a pile of cannonballs.  Using all his strength, he struggled to pick one up.  Just as he finally did, he was confronted by Mullins who pointed a knife at him.

“Drop it!” the pirate commanded.

“If you say so,” said the boy as he dropped the cannonball right onto Mullins’ right foot. The pirate screamed in pain and clutched his foot while Cubby made his getaway.

As Mullins continued to hold his foot, he hopped backward.  He was so engrossed in pain that he didn’t see the looped rope on the deck. Once the foot he was hopping on was in the loop, Slightly and Cubby pulled on a rope and hoisted Mullins so that he was dangling from a beam much like Pluto had been earlier.

“It worked!” exclaimed Cubby as he and Slightly tied the rope down to leave Mullins where he was.

“Good thing you set up these traps while we were distracting the pirates with our ticking,” said Slightly.

“Well, let’s go see who else needs our help,” said Cubby as he and Slightly rushed off.

“Come on!  You almost had me that time!  Do you want me to slow down a little?” taunted Peter as he dodged a punch from the large tattooed pirate.

“Is it really a good idea to mock your opponent like that, Peter?” asked Kairi as she crossed her Keyblade with Mr. Starkey’s sword nearby.

“Of course, it is, Kairi. It’s actually one of my favorite ways to fight.  You see, the angrier your opponent is, the more careless they get.  It makes the battle easier and a lot more fun,” said Peter as he dodged another blow from the pirate, zipped around behind him and stuck him in the rear with his dagger causing him to yelp in pain.

‘I don’t know about making a battle more fun.  But getting an opponent mad to make them careless in battle?  That actually sounds like a good strategy,’ thought Kairi as she blocked another slash from Mr. Starkey.

Throughout the entirety of the battle with the pirate, Kairi had been trying to find a way to defeat him without killing or hurting him too badly.  Though she knew that even Sora had taken lives in battle, she didn’t want to resort to that unless absolutely necessary.  Unfortunately, this had kept her on the defensive and she had yet to make a single attack against Mr. Starkey.

“How pathetic!  If that’s the best you can do, girl, then you’re better off giving up!” cackled the pirate as he raised his sword for another slash.

‘Maybe if I just hold back a little, this could work,’ thought Kairi as she saw an opportunity and raised the tip of her Keyblade to the sky.

“Thunder!” she shouted causing a small bolt of lightning to shoot out of her Keyblade.  It struck Mr. Starkey’s sword like a lightning rod and shocked him into a daze.

‘Can’t believe that worked!’ thought Kairi.

Suddenly, Tink flew to Kairi’s right ear.  She tinkled while pointing in an upward direction.  Kairi followed the fairy’s instructions and looked up to see Bill Jukes swinging toward her on a rope while waving his sword.

But thanks to Tink’s timely warning, Kairi ducked just before the deadly blade could take off her head.  Jukes sailed past her and over the railing. Before he could swing back, Kairi threw her Keyblade at the rope, slicing through it and sending the short pirate falling into the water.

“You’re doing pretty good, Kairi!” complemented Peter as he dodged another blow from the tattooed pirate.

“Thanks,” said Kairi as she caught her Keyblade as it returned to her.  She then turned her attention to Peter’s fight with the tattooed pirate. Then she looked behind herself and what she saw gave her an idea.

“Tink, could you tell Peter something for me?” she asked as she turned to Tink who nodded in response.

Kairi whispered something to the fairy. After she finished, Tink flew to Peter’s ear and whispered what Kairi had told her.  Peter nodded in understanding.

Positioning himself between the tattooed pirate and Kairi, Peter stuck his thumbs in his ears, wiggled his fingers and mocked, “Hey, you big lug!  Nah nah! You can’t get me!”

That was the last straw for the tattooed pirate.  With an enraged grunt, he charged at Peter like a bull.

But before he could lay his hands on the boy, Peter dodged to the right just as Kairi shouted, “Light!”

A bright blast of light emitted from her Keyblade blinding the pirate.  Kairi and Peter then stuck their feet out and tripped him.  The pirate careened headfirst into a cannon.  The force caused the cannon to flip up and slam down on his head.  He was knocked out cold.

“Alright!  Your idea worked, Kairi!” exclaimed Peter.

“Yes.  It actually did,” said Kairi who could hardly believe it herself. She even had a hard time comprehending the fact that she had taken three opponents out of the battle.  She felt a sense of pride in that accomplishment.

‘I can’t believe I’m actually pulling this off.  Glad all that training these last few months is paying off.’

Kairi and Peter then scanned the deck and the ongoing battle.  So far, it appeared to be going in their favor.  The Lost Boys had incapacitated many of the pirates who were either out cold, tied up or knocked overboard.  Pluto still had Smee cornered up the mast causing Kairi, Peter and Tink to laugh.

“Once we finish with the crew, then it’ll be Hook’s turn,” said Peter.

“Peter, about fighting Hook.  I’d like to…” Kairi didn’t get to finish her request when she saw something awful happening.

Currently on a plank overlooking the edge of the ship was Toodles.  He was being forced near the edge of it by Damien Salt.

“Peter!” shouted Kairi pointing in the direction of the Lost Boy in trouble.

“Huh?” asked Peter as he turned to look. But just as he did, he was suddenly lassoed with a rope pinning his arms to his sides.  At the other end were a couple of pirates laughing wickedly. Peter struggled to get free as the pirates attempted to pull him to the deck.

“I’ll get you free, Peter!” cried Kairi as she aimed her Keyblade to throw it and cut Peter free.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Kairi saw Mr. Starkey charging toward her.  She quickly turned just in time to block his sword with her Keyblade. The pirate pushed her backward until she was up against the edge of the ship.

‘I guess I held back a little too much with that Thunder spell if he recovered so quickly from it.’

“Tink!  Go help Toodles!” she cried.

The fairy nodded and streaked across the deck.  When she reached Salt, she immediately grabbed onto one end of his moustache and pulled it.  The pirate stopped advancing on the Lost Boy and turned his attention to Tink, trying to swat her with his sword and free hand.

However, Salt had moved too far onto the plank.  Even with Tink distracting him, there was no way for Toodles to get past him and back onto the ship.

“Slightly!  Cubby!” Kairi called hoping that one of the other boys would hear her and help their comrade.  But all of them were currently occupied with fighting their own opponents.

Mr. Starkey gave an evil grin. “Yer wasting your breath, girlie. I hope the sharks like the taste of skunk!” he cackled.

Finally, Salt sliced through his moustache with his cutlass sending Tinker Bell flying away from recoil.  He then raised his cutlass and prepared to swipe it down on Toodles.

With no one to help him, it looked pretty bleak for the youngest member of Peter’s crew.  It looked like, for the first time, they were going to lose one of their own.

‘No!  I can’t let that happen!  I won’t let it happen!’

Then, to the surprise of Mr. Starkey, Kairi’s body began to glow with an ethereal white light.  The light erupted into a blast sending him flying overboard.

In the blink of an eye, the princess then vanished into a streak of light.  It travelled across the deck until it reached the plank.  Kairi rematerialized directly in between Salt and Toodles just in time to block the pirate’s attack with her Keyblade.

The pirate was stunned at Kairi’s sudden appearance.  But it was nothing compared to the princess’s own surprise.

‘What just happened?  How did I do that?’

But realizing it would have to wait, she took advantage of the pirate’s shock and leapt into action.  She quickly used her Keyblade to knock Salt’s cutlass out of his hand and then used the flat side of it to push him off the side of the plank.  The pirate screamed as he splashed down into the water.

Kairi gave a sigh of relief and turned to the Lost Boy she just saved.  “Are you all right, Toodles?”

The Lost Boy, as usual, said nothing. But with a big smile on his face, he hugged Kairi around the waist.  Kairi smiled down at him.

“Great job, Kairi!” called Peter who was now flying above the water.  He still had the rope tied around him with the two pirates who had been holding it now dangling from it.

“Let me give you a hand with those pirates, Peter,” saidd Kairi as she threw Destiny’s Embrace at the rope.  The Keyblade sliced through the rope and the two pirates dropped down into the water like a stone.

“And that’s the last of them!” announced Peter as he flew back to the ship and landed on the deck.  Kairi, Tink and the Lost Boys gathered around him.

“Nice fight, everyone!  I knew we’d win just like we always do,” said Peter as Slightly and Cubby removed the rope from him.

“We may have won, Peter.  But Toodles nearly walked the plank.  Weren’t you worried that he’d be hurt?” asked Kairi.

“Not at all.  I knew he’d be fine.  And he is, thanks to you and your incredible trick.  You never mentioned you could do something like that.  I never even saw Sora do something like that,” said Peter.

“To tell you the truth, Peter, I have no idea where it came from,” said Kairi who was still mystified about the mysterious power that enabled her to save Toodles.

“Smee?  It’s been far too long.  Is the crocodile gone?” asked a familiar voice

The group turned in the direction of the voice.  They saw that Captain Hook had finally emerged from his cabin.  And upon seeing his crew incapacitated in many ways and his archenemy standing in the midst, his face contorted in anger.

“Smee!  What happened?!” he demanded.

“Well, captain, it seems that while we were looking for the crocodile, Peter Pan and the Lost Boys snuck onto the ship and freed our prisoners.  Then they attacked us with absolutely no provocation at all,” said Smee as he continued to clutch onto the mast with Pluto growling below him.

“By the way, Hook, how’d you like the clock impressions we gave you?  We’ve been working on them for quite some time.  So good to know that they work because they certainly fooled you,” said Peter smugly as the Lost Boys laughed.

“You mean I was tricked?  Blast you, Pan!  This be the last straw!” shouted Hook as he drew his sword.

“Come face me, boy!  Today, we settle it once and for all!”

“You’ve said that so many times before. But I’m always happy to give you a fight so say your prayers, Hook!” shouted Peter as he drew his dagger and prepared to fly off to face the captain.

But before he could, Kairi held out an arm in front of him.  “Wait, Peter. Let me fight him.  One on one.”

Peter and his crew gasped.  “Are you sure about that, Kairi?  The other pirates are easy opponents, but Hook is the best swordsman out of all of them.  He won’t be as easy to defeat,” said Peter.

“I need to do this, Peter. Remember what you said about teaching Hook a lesson?  About using friends as bait for other friends?  I have to be the one to teach him that lesson.  He really crossed a line when he captured me as bait for Sora and he needs to answer for that,” said Kairi with determination.

“Kairi, I’m as mad about that as you are.  But that doesn’t mean you have to face Hook alone.  Sora didn’t even do that.  Even if it was just you and me, we could beat him,” said Peter.

“I know we could, Peter.  But it’s not just about that.  It’s also not just about teaching him a lesson,” said Kairi.

“What do you mean?” asked Peter.

“I don’t know what I am going to face on my journey.  There may be worse enemies than Hook out there and I may not have anyone to help me. I need to know that I can hold my own in a fight against a major enemy and not just minor ones.  It’s the only way I can get stronger so I can find and save Sora. So, please Peter.  Let me do this,” pleaded Kairi.

“But Kairi, what if you lose?” asked Slightly.

“Then you won’t be able to find your friend at all,” said Nibs.

“I’m aware of what may happen, boys. But, unless I call for you or it looks like I am going to lose, none of are you are to help me in this fight.”

Kairi then heard a whimper.  She turned and saw Pluto approaching her with a worried look on his face.

“The same goes for you too, Pluto. So, can you all promise me you’ll let me fight Hook on my own?”

Everyone looked reluctant to make that promise.  Kairi couldn’t blame them for that.  Truthfully, she herself would never have wanted to watch a friend try something so risky even if they felt it was something that needed to be done.

Finally, Peter smiled and put his hand on Kairi’s shoulder.  “If it’s that important to you, Kairi, then we’ll stay out of it.  We give you our word.  Right, everybody?” he asked causing Tink, the Lost Boys, and Pluto to nod.

“There you go.  We’ll cheer you on from the sides then.  But we’ll be watching the fight and the moment you call for us or it looks like you need help, then we’re jumping in no matter what.”

Kairi looked at everyone surrounding her who were all nodding in agreement.  She smiled gratefully.  “Thank you, Peter.  Thank you all.”

“What keeping you, boy?!  It’s bad form to keep your opponent waiting,” cried out Hook.

“Sounds like he’s getting impatient. Better not keep him waiting any longer. Also, here’s a little advice. Remember what I said about getting your opponent mad so they’ll get sloppy in their fighting?  Try it out on Hook.  It’s quite effective,” said Peter.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Kairi.

“Go get him, Kairi!” cheered the Twins.

“Show him that no one messes with our friends!” exclaimed Nibs

“Knock him overboard!” exclaimed Slightly.

“But be careful.  We don’t want to see you get hurted,” said Cubby.

Tink tinkled encouragingly while pumping her fist in the air.

Pluto let out several encouraging barks.

Toodles, silent as always, gave Kairi another hug around the waist.  She smiled and patted him on the head before he let go.

With a grateful nod to everyone, Kairi made her way to the stairs that would take her up to where Hook was. Behind her, she heard the cheering, tinkling and barking of encouragement from her friends.

‘I guess I should be grateful the Wayfinder brought me to a world where I can put my skills to test against a relatively easy enemy.  Compared to the likes of villains like Maleficent, the members of the Organization or Xehanort himself, Captain Hook is definitely not in the same league. Still, I’d better not take this battle lightly because the boys are right. I lose this fight and Sora’s lost forever.’

Kairi steeled herself for the upcoming duel with the pirate captain.  Whether it would end in her first great triumph over a major opponent or in a disastrous defeat remained to be seen.

________________________________________________________________

Onto the next chapter!

[sassy-stylophile]

Sailor Moon Disguise Pen 🌙

Ahhhhh I got my Sailor Moon disguise pen in!! 💜 It got here super fast. I ordered it after my TWSBI Eco Smoke Rose Gold pen and it got here within a few days! This is a photo heavy post, so let's jump in and take a look at the pen!

You might have guessed by now, but I'm a huuuge Sailor Moon fan! I've been obsessed with SM since the 90s. It was so great as a little girl to see a team of kickass girls saving the world! I have a modest collection of SM merchandise which I have been incessantly adding to in recent years. They made the perfect backdrop for my crappy photoshoot 👌🏾

For the uninitiated, this is a near perfect replica of Sailor Moon's disguise pen, which was an implement she used in the first season of the anime (and in the manga).

It helped her complete missions as a variety of professions (nurse, princess, flight attendant... That last one was way out of context 😂). This is based on the manga version of the pen, as the one in the 90s Anime looked a bit different (I haven't watched the reboot yet but apparently it was updated to look like this).

Anyway... Let's talk about this pen!

The pen body is made of some sort of enameled metal. It's hard to capture in a photo, but it has a beautiful pearlescent finish and is smooth with no flaws. There are gold colored accents, a gold colored nib, and is topped with a pink jewel encrusted crown 👑 inlaid with a big faceted glass jewel 💎 It's kinda on the heavy side; it's very top heavy due to the solid metal crown molding and jewel combo on the cap. This can probably hurt someone tbh, but I like things that can double as weapons hehe 😏

For a cheap knockoff, there are some impressive details paid attention to on this pen, like the 🌙 on the cap and the scrolled etching on the clip.

The nib also has a 🌙 and some fahncy scroll designs. There is no information on the size of the nib, where it was made, or the material it's made from. The tines are even (I looked under a loupe 🧐) and the nib seems like a F (fine). Does the number in the feed mean anything?? I'm not experienced enough with fountain pens (yet) to know, but thought that I should include it to be thorough ✒👌🏾

It comes with a really skinny converter for drawing ink. It has a really smoll reservoir so I wondered if a standard/universal converter would work with the pen. I dug one out from my stash and compared them. The standard one is definitely wider, BUT the holes are the same size (~3.5mm) so I figured I'd try to see if the standard one would fit/work... And it does! It's a bit of a tight fit when I put it in the barrel of the pen, but it clicked into the feed with ease, so that's great 😄

I've inked up the pen with the standard converter installed and all went well. I tested it with a few scribbles and it works! I'm going to leave it to saturate the feed overnight and I'll post about how it writes AND do a shitty review of a beautiful ink soon 😂

[awaywithwords03]

The Last Interview with Peter Watson-Lea

ACCESS TO DOCUMENT PROHIBITTED

I.D NO: 2375-1294-2256_

 PLEASE ENTER PASSCODE TO PROCEED

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 ENTER ACCESS KEY

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 ACCESS TO FILE “PETER WATSON-LEA” GRANTED

 “Below is a transcript of the last recorded interview with Peter Watson-Lea. Recorded on the 24.2.22 at Chester County Medical Hospital by ERR. NAMES REMOVED. It is part of a series of testimonies to provide evidence for the existence and potential danger of the artifact known as the Evelyn Bones.”

 For the tape, my name is Peter Francis Graeme Watson-Lea, I am 42 years old, unmarried, I served in the great war as an artillerist and until recently I worked as an investigative journalist. I have no family to speak of, I was raised by my aunt after my parents were killed in a house fire. Oh, it was freelance, I worked as a freelance journalist. I came to this hospital of my own volition, as what I beheld gave me such disturbance as to make me question my own sanity. Start at the beginning? Yes okay.

 Pause.

 It was about a month ago, the beginning of the new year, I received a tip off from an anonymous source. I can’t remember the words exactly, apart from the last line, but the tip off pointed me in the direction of a place called Burnes College in Yorkshire and told me that there were things there worth looking into, that would be of interest to me and my work. Naturally, I was skeptical… I’m sorry? Oh I did say that didn’t I. The last line of the letter was “Keep your own eyes open, let the truth in.” I just thought it was a strange sentence, “Your own eyes”, as if I was going to be seeing to anyone else’s or…

 Pause.

 The train ride was rather pleasant, as you’d expect for that part of the world. Beautiful rolling green vistas with the occasional blur of purple or black heather with the hills in the distance like the shoulders of grey giants. To my surprise I was met at the station by a man dressed like, I want to say a priest? Or some kind of monk? He wore a long smart coat, like a cassock, with a white silk scarf, embroidered with strange designs thrown over his shoulder. His head was completely shaven and his features were sharp enough to cut glass. He was pleasant to talk to, telling me his name was Prest and that he had been expecting me. When I asked him how he waved the question off with an amiable nature and bade me follow him, promising a hot meal and hospitality, and explaining that all would be clear once we were back at the college.

 I did so, and soon found myself in the passenger seat of a well-kept Austin motor vehicle trundling down narrow country lanes and deep into the moorland. Prest talked freely about the location and where he had grown up, pointing out his old parish and a few pleasant landmarks, but he had precious little to say about the college, aside from the fact that he was a tutor of sorts there. Though in hindsight, tutor is far from the right word. He wasn’t at all uncomfortable with who or what I was and said if anything it was welcoming to have someone come and shed some light upon their little college. “Write all you can!” He declared with gusto, “Write till your lead wears to powder, your nib breaks and all the ink in Europe runs dry! Your insight Mr Watson-Lea is incredibly valuable to us. While you are in our care, every luxury shall be yours, be it food, drink, literature or any other pleasure. We want you at your best.”

 I enquired as to Provost of the College and Prest told me that his name was Provost Penbrooke.

 Pause

 I’m sorry errm, the College? Yes, the College. It’s a funny shaped building, with a strange mix of gothic architecture, some Italian columns and, I dare say some domes. It’s as if the building has been assembled by a blend of multiple architects from multiple generations, all mixed up in a pot, and tipped into a valley. Of course, I was totally lost by the time we reached there, but I remembered the signpost to the nearest town, Tellingham. We pulled up in the drive to this large manor and a pair of strong looking lads, dressed in a similar way to my new companion came down the steps and helped me with my luggage. Of course, by this point you must realise that I could not believe my luck. I am not a wealthy man, and as a former soldier finding a job had been very challenging, especially a freelance one. So, to be treated as a well-to-do sort was extremely humbling.

 “The provost would like to see you immediately.” My host insisted after a brief exchange of words with the two porters and I was escorted hastily up the stone steps and into Burnes College. Inside it was dimly lit by gas lamps and decorated with statues and effigies of strange gods and creatures I didn’t recognize. Creatures with humanoid and yet inhuman limbs with too many fingers and eyes a plenty. Strange fetishes and weapons etched with runes that made my eyes itch and Yhtog mylet. Tredgiy thethleikt…

 TAPE CUTS

 …orry again about that. I find it hard to think about what happened there.

 Hmm? Oh yes it does make me frightened. I don’t think I knew what true fear was until this moment, now on the other side of that terrible venture. But I will brave it, I know that I need to tell you what happened there, and the consequences should I fail…. Doesn’t bare thinking on.

 They led me up a labyrinth of stairs, past lecture halls and creaking shelves teaming with books, of which I had no hope of recognizing. Eventually we began ascending a spiral staircase, all made from carved stone like a castle and hung with portraits, like those one might encounter in rich ancestral homes. We immerged at the top of, what I can only call a tower, though I did not recall seeing one when I arrived. The room had a wonderful, panoramic view made possible by a single piece of curved glass that made the roof of the tower appear as if it was floating above us. It’s colour was tinted a toxic yellow, and it stank of ozone and sweat. Inside it was arranged like a study, with heaps of books on the floor, an ancient looking desk scattered with writing implements, notes and drawers. Lastly staring out of the great window was its lone occupant.

 The provost was bound to a wheelchair and looking out to the distant yellow tinted hills. Well, when I say looking, he was faced toward the view of the outside. He wore a flowing discoloured white gown, that spilled over the wheels of his chair, and upon his head was, what I can only describe as, a bulbous be-jeweled crown. The crystals and shapes upon it, resembled growths like tumors more than decoration and it gave me a queasy feeling to look upon it. Then he looked at me. And the face, oh that face…

 Pause

 What manner of injury had occurred to that man I shall never know, and never want to know. He had sores and boils, that blistered and crusted his entire face from the base of his nose upward. His eyes were completely gone amidst the mass of these red pestilent growths, and yet despite this as his sightless face turned to me, he smiled as if greeting an old friend. “Mr Watson-Lea!” He proclaimed with a voice soured by untellable age and honeyed by false warmth. “My word, it has been a long while that we have been searching for you!” When I asked him what he wanted with me he turned his chair without using his hands and it wheeled toward me as if pushed by some phantom force. “Your heritage my boy.” He replied, “Don’t you recognize your ancestors upon the stairs?”

 I suddenly began to feel very enclosed. Sweat prickled the back of my neck as the idea that I had been drawn into a trap began to close in on me. “The third from the top,” Penbrooke began, “Is Nathaniel Edward Francis Prendergast, born 1762 and died in 1884. The second from the top is James Michael Francis Prendergast, born 1854 died just 4 years ago. He died here in fact, in this very college.” I remind you, my parents were killed in a fire, or at least they were supposed to be. “Your surname, your true surname is Prendergast. The woman who raised you was no more your Aunt than any of us here. She was an abductor, denying you your true destiny.”

 I was too…. Terrified… awestruck… spellbound to speak. So instead, he spoke for me, gliding forward in that sinister manner on that chair and reaching out with his warped gnarled hands. “I will show you the bones, and you will read of them just as your father did and his father before. The translations you will provide, rib by rib, vertebrae by vertebrae will reveal wonders to you.” And like that he produced before me a single white bone. I am no doctor, but I could tell that the bone he held out to me was not human. It was elongated, and twisted like an ancient tree branch, crooked at alien angles. But worst of all was the writing. Runes that were as far removed from letters as could be imagined, covering the bone from tip to haft like the image of dancing figures in some horrific festival.

 And yet

 Pause

 Sorry… I could understand them. They came to life before me and made perfect sense, things aligned in my skull and my understanding of the world deepened, opening beneath me like a bottomless abyss. Black infinite and tarrying and I could feel myself falling. The terror. Oh, the terror was so much, my heart became water and washed my body with a quiver beyond description. I think I must have suffered a fit, for when I came to my senses I was in a bed. Opening my eyes, I was in a darkened room, of stone bricks and low wooden beams, covered with a thin sheet in a four- poster bed. A tiny arched window let a sliver of morning light in through my window and as I pushed myself to sit, I felt a searing agony in my hand and looked down to behold the ruin that you see before you.

 Hmm? Oh yes. For the sake of the tape, my hand has become permanently fused with a quill. It appears to be melted and reshaped to only be able to hold this strange spike that constantly leaks an ink from it. The pain I confess is maddeningly toxic. It burns like a fire under my skin and at the same time, I crave it… I enjoy it…

 Pause

 I’m writing down everything, yes.

 I’m doing it so that the ink doesn’t pool in the gland, for that only adds to the agony. I cannot stand to not be writing now. This is the cursed gift they have given to me, should I not be translating what was on those accursed bones I shpoyt julithyc myatholatrem brekrept yuklimpt a

 THE TAPE MOMENTARILY CUTS BEFORE RESUMING

 Are we recording again? I’m really sorry about…

 THE TAPE CUTS

 …ow much did I translate? I thought you would be more concerned with how I escaped that wretched place! Why do you even want to know what I… Oh God… It’s you… Please, please let me be. I’ll do anything I’ll… Please!!! *Screaming*

 THE TAPE CUTS

 THE FOLLOWING COULD BE HEARD IN THE WHITE NOISE THAT FOLLOWED THE TERMINATION OF THE INTERVIEW

 They’re here…

They’re here…

They’re here…

They have come…

The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones, The bones.

 End

 END OF TRANSCRIPT

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 ENTER ACCESS CODE TO DELETE FILE:

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 ENTER I.D NO FOLLOWED BY ASSOCIATED NAME:

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[nibeul]

May we get your very good opinions on different types of lightsabers?

OK for starters, I have a really in depth post about saberstaffs here so I recommend checking that out if you’re curious but onto the other types:

Standard and shoto lightsabers are the most common (shoto is just the smaller version of the standard, it’s normally good for a secondary lightsaber meant for parrying [like Ahsoka has] though it’s also meant for smaller species, like Yoda) and they’re pretty solid. Standard lightsabers are around 20-30cm in length (depends on the user’s arm length) and any defining features comes from the user’s designs. The unorthodox lightsabers will typically be created later on into a Jedi’s career of they decide to go with something else. Most Jedi will have the standard (or shoto) and it is the one that is taught to Padawans when they are creating their lightsabers.

The main unorthodox lightsabers I can think of off the top of my head are: double bladed (saberstaffs), curved hilt, pike, crossguard, and tonfas

Ventress and Dooku have lightsabers with curved hilts and they’re meant for dueling specifically. The way curved hilts are held against the palm differs from the hold for the standard which gives the wielded an advantage + the angle is just generally better for offensive dueling. However, they aren’t good for the battlefield (which is probably part of the reason why Ventress and Dooku aren’t fighting on the frontlines) so if your character is a General/Commander on the battlefield, I recommend against it

Saberstaffs I already linked my post up there ^^ whether or not they’re good for the battlefield depends on the wielder’s fighting style (Krell vs Maul)

Pikes are bad for an open battlefield, just gonna. Preface with that, it’s also known as the lightsaber lance and the actual blade part is very small. The handle part is typically made from Phrik since it’s lightsaber resistant, otherwise it’d be pretty easy to just cut it in half (temple guards typically use double-bladed pikes actually). With tonfas, they’re basically shotos/standard sabers with a secondary hilt that just out at a 90 degree angle. They’re REALLY hard to master, take a lot of patience, and they’re almost always deadly if used even slightly incorrectly. They also suck on the battlefield, they are not good for battlefield use

Then crossguard is Uh. Crossguard, Kylo has one and they basically keep an opponent’s blade from sliding down the side of the user’s. Also make for good stabby bits if you get close enough, they don’t provide much benefit otherwise though. They also don’t require much extra training

In conclusion, standard sabers tend to be the best for TCW era Jedi who are working on the battlefield while unorthodox take more time to master and are generally used by skilled Senior Padawans and up (if your Jedi is not a duelist, then the unorthodox lightsabers listed here probably aren’t a great fit). Also for skilled duelists, most of them are made for dueling which is also part of why they’re not as common since the Council frowns upon weapons meant to “kill better”. This is super summarized, but yee

[tingfeiart]

Unloved Tragedy - Chapter 1 - “Me?  Tragic?”

Chapter 1 of Unloved Tragedy, a Peter Pan x Treasure Planet Fanfiction

Word Count: 1,129

Table of Contents

Fighting with Hook was Peter's favorite past-time. If he ever forgot to fly, his happy little thought would be jabbing his knife toward Hook. Or, if it were a happy memory, it would be the day Peter cut off his hand. He let out a gay laugh as Hook failed to slit his throat with his flimsy sword. "Missed me! Old man!" Peter teased as he flew up and peered down at Hook before proceeding to give him a raspberry.

"Why, an old man, you say?" an offended Hook shouted in disbelief. "You're a tragedy, Pan!"

Peter scoffed. "Hah! How can I be tragic? Being a boy forever is the most fun thing ever!" He continued to laugh whilst not forgetting he was engaging in combat with Hook. In addition to inflicting pain on Hook, Peter enjoyed arguing with him and seeing the codfish eat his words.

Hook scoffed back, imitating the boyish scoff Peter gave. "Don't you see, boy? She was leaving you!"

Unaffected, Peter asked. "Leaving me? Who?" he asked nonchalantly. He twirled upside down lazily, still engaging his dominant hand in battle. "No one leaves Pan! I'm the bestest friend to those in need!"

"Wendy, you stupid boy! Wendy is leaving you!" Hook sneered.

"Wait, what?" Peter's combat arm paused. Wendy? He gazed up to see Wendy with the boys at the crow nest, cheering happily as a means of positive encouragement to keep Peter in the game. Peter didn't care about the boys. Only Wendy stood out to him. Her contagious smile, her cherry lips...

Hook raised his hook hand in an effort to strike the boy's head, but Peter snapped back to reality and turned in time to avoid the blow. He elevated about ten feet above Hook so he could not reach him. "You're wrong, Hook! Wendy just wants to see her parents, and then she'll come back!" Who would want to leave Neverland? No one!

Hook didn't hold back his laughter. Peter's disbelief was amusement to him, in what was supposed to be a battle to the death between two men.

"Why should she stay?" Hook asked, as if he knew the answer to that question. "What have you to offer? You are incomplete. Unloved!"

Incomplete? How dare he! I'll show him who is incomplete - at fighting! "Liar!" Peter dove down and jabbed his knife toward Hook's nose, but Hook dodged it and returned the gesture with a successful blow to Peter's shoulder. "Ow!" the boy yelped and rubbed his shoulder with his free hand. He looked at his fingers and saw blood. Darting another hateful look toward Hook, Peter shouted, "I can offer her fun, and adventure, and - !"

His sword crossed with Peter's knife, Hook used the weight of his body to force Peter against the edge of the ship. "Ah, let us peek into the future..." Hook used his free hand to stroke his mustache. "I... I see someone. A man! In your place. He is called... husband. Do you know what husband is, Peter?"

Peter's uncomfortable expression didn't change, but the grip on his knife loosened, causing the knife to slide against the blade of Hook's sword.

This was his moment.

Husband...

Hyaaaaaaa!

The tip of the hook dug into the boy's skull. The pain caused him to scream and toss his body around. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, at the feet of six small feet.

"Peter, are you okay?" A little boy's voice called out.

Peter opened his eyes. His army of six men were all peering down at him. "Boys! Where's Hook?!" Peter jolted up from where he laid, his hand on the handle of his knife, close to unsheathing it.

"Peter, Hook isn't here." Slightly said, looking at Peter with a raised brow, as if to say 'you're crazy'.

"You were dreaming, Pete!" Cubby pointed out. "Don't hurt us! We heard ya talking in your sleep, that's why we came to check on ya."

Peter scratched his head. He then looked at his shoulder where he had felt pain. There was no blood. So it really was a dream! But it felt so... real! "You're right, boys. What did I say?"

All six boys looked at one another, and then shrugged their shoulders. "I dunno..." they all said in unison like shaking their heads.

"Huh, wish I could say I remembered it. The last thing that happened was Hook hit me in the head with his hook, and it went dark! Eh, oh well." Peter shrugged off the thought of trying to decipher the dream. Why did dreams matter anyway? He was Peter Pan, and he wasn't gonna let some bad dream take the place of happy, joyous thoughts of adventure.

But then he was hit by a realization he almost neglected. "Oh yeah, Wendy was there, too." For some reason, Peter felt a need to mention this to the boys.

"Wendy? What's a Wendy?" The twins asked in unison.

Peter's face turned into utter disbelief. Were they playing with him? "Wendy! You don't remember?" he asked with a hint of jest in his tone. "Wendy! I brought her here... and I made her.. a... a mother, I think."

"Yer crazy, Pete," said Slightly in a dismissive tone. "Go back to bed."

But Pan wasn't going to listen to one of his subjects. No, he was the leader, and he was going to tell the boys what to do. They were going to do his bidding. "No, men! We're going hunting!" Peter declared. "Where's the sun now, boys?"

"Just about to set," answered Nibs, who was peaking out through one of the holes of Hangman's tree.

"Fantastic, why not do a bit of hunting before it gets dark? Best catch will get the honor of finding the next treasure with me!" Peter suggested. He couldn't help but grin that this was the most marvelous idea. It was perfect to get him out of this weird mood the dream placed him in. Or better, the perfect distraction, an escape, from what was really bothering him within.

The boys jumped and hollered with joy, then darted for their weapons stash. Peter laughed gayly as all six boys slid down the exit slides. When he joined them, the group of seven separated, and the hunting game began.

But Peter wouldn't stop laughing. Seeing the boys light up with excitement was just one simple pleasure for Peter. As long as he had his youth, his men, and Neverland, he would be the most complete he could ever be.

[cardstumble]

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Year-of-Dangerous-Days/Nicholas-Griffin/9781501191022

police brutality    drug crisis     immigration    white/latin/black tribes

Excerpt

Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1

DECEMBER 1979

By 1979, there were several Miamis that barely lapped against one another, let alone integrated. The county itself was a strange beast, twenty-seven different municipalities with their own mayor, many with their own police departments. But Miami wasn’t divided by municipalities; it was separated into tribes.

There was Anglo Miami, which the city’s boosters were still hawking to white America: beaches, real estate, hotels, and entertainment. Tourists dominated the region. Dade had 1.6 million residents but

2.1 million international visitors a year. Anglo Miami was far from monolithic. There were southerners, migrants, and a large Jewish population that ran some of the most important businesses and institutions in Miami Beach.

Across the causeway in Little Havana and up the coast in Hialeah sat Latin Miami, created by the Cubans who’d fled Fidel Castro’s revolution twenty years before. Whenever there was violence south of the border, Latin America coughed up a new pocket of immigrants. Most recently that meant that the Cuban population in Dade was being watered down by Nicaraguans, Salvadorans, and Colombians.

Then there was black Miami. It, too, had more divisions than cohesion. There was a strong Bahamian presence, plenty of Jamaicans. Both felt distinct from the African Americans who had moved south from Georgia, and those who were born and bred in Miami. The latest immigrants were only beginning to spill in: a large number of unwelcome Haitians. Arriving on rickety boats, fleeing both political persecution and economic despair, they were docking at a time when not one of Miami’s communities was in the mood to reach out and welcome them.

For all the nuances, if you were black, white, or Latin, you tended to know so little about the other tribes that you regarded them as rigid blocs. Who knew a Jamaican turned his nose up at a Georgia-born black, or that a Puerto Rican couldn’t stand another word from a Cuban, or that a Jew couldn’t walk through the door at the all-white country club at La Gorce? There was enough inequality to go around, but in this one thing, the black community got the most generous helping.

In 1979, if you were black in Dade County, you most likely lived in one of three neighborhoods: Overtown, the Black Grove, or Liberty City. Liberty City was the youngest of the three, dating back to 1937, when President Franklin Roosevelt authorized the first large public housing project in the South. It was Roosevelt’s response to local campaigns for better sanitation. In the ’30s, Liberty City had what most houses in Overtown and the Black Grove did not: running water, modern kitchens, electricity. Overtown remained the center of black life in Miami until the arrival of I-95, the vast stretch of American highway that ran from Maine down the East Coast all the way to Miami. It stomped right through the middle of Miami’s most prominent black neighborhood in 1965, a ravenous millipede with a thousand concrete legs.

Had the 3,000-kilometer highway been halted just 5 kilometers to the north, black Miami might have had a different history. Instead the highway, touted as “slum clearance,” bulldozed through black Miami’s main drags. Gone was much of Overtown’s commercial heart, with its three movie theaters, its

public pool, grocery store, and businesses. Goodbye to clubs that had hosted Ella Fitzgerald, to the Sir John Hotel, which had offered their finest suites to black entertainers banned from staying in whites-only Miami Beach. But more important, goodbye to a neighborhood where parents knew which house every child belonged to. Goodbye to the nighttime games of Moonlight Baby, where kids would use the bottle caps of Cola Nibs to mark the edge of their bodies on the pavement. Goodbye to unarmed

black patrolmen walking black streets.

Overtown had its own all-black police station, with strict rules. Black officers couldn’t carry a weapon home, since “no one wanted to see a black man with a gun.” They could stop whites in Overtown but

had no power of arrest over them. The closest affordable housing for Overtown’s displaced was in and around the Liberty City projects. Block by block it began to turn from white to black, until neighboring white homeowners built a wall

to separate themselves from ever-blacker Liberty City. White housewives in colorful plaids and horn-rimmed glasses carried protest signs: “We want this Nigger moved” and

“Nigger go to Washington.” Someone detonated a stick of dynamite in

an empty apartment leased to blacks. Nothing worked, and by the end of the 1960s the first proud black owners inside Liberty City were joined by many of Overtown’s twenty thousand displaced. As white flight accelerated, house prices declined, local businesses faltered, and unemployment and crime began to rise. By 1968, Liberty City had assumed a new reputation. The CND—the Central-North District—had

earned the nickname “Central Negro District” from both the city and the county police departments.

There was still beauty in Liberty City, still sunrises where the light would smart off the sides of pastel-painted houses, and the dew on the grass would glisten, and churches would fill, and the jitney buses would chug patiently, waiting for the elderly to board. Still schoolchildren in white shirts tightening backpacks to their shoulders and catching as much shade as possible on the way to the school gates. There was still beauty, but you had to squint to see it.

Eighty percent of South Florida homes had air-conditioning in 1980, but in stifling hot Liberty City,

only one in five homes could afford it. It was a neighborhood without a center, few jobs to offer, seventy-two churches but just six banks,

not one of which was black-owned. There were plenty of places to pray for a positive future but few institutions willing to risk investment in one. The fact that a teenager called Arthur McDuffie got out at all was unusual. The fact that he came back, found a good job, earned steadily, and raised a family was rarer still.

Frederica Jones had been Arthur McDuffie’s high school sweetheart at Booker T. Washington, one of Miami’s three segregated schools. They’d met while Frederica was walking home from the local store, where she’d bought a can of peas for her mother. She’d swung her groceries at her side, and McDuffie, who’d been watching her from across the street, fell into step beside her.

After a few moments of banter, McDuffie made a simple declaration. “I like you.” Then he asked for Frederica’s number. That night McDuffie called, and the two talked for an hour. At the end of the conversation McDuffie, two years Frederica’s senior, asked, “Would you go with me?”

“Yes!” she said.

They became inseparable. They were in the Booker T. Washington band together. McDuffie was the baritone horn

and Frederica a majorette. She watched McDuffie win the local swim meets. When McDuffie graduated, he joined the Marine Corps, and for the next three years, they communicated through letters. Then, within two months of his honorable discharge, they married. Two children quickly followed. After which came problems, separation, and, in 1978, divorce. McDuffie had always had a reputation as a ladies’ man, and now he had

a child with another woman to prove it.

Yet toward the end of 1979, the thirty-three-year-old McDuffie was back visiting the house he’d once shared with Frederica. He mowed the lawn, fixed the air conditioners, and trimmed the hedges of their neighbor, the last white family on the block. The warmth in the failed marriage seemed to be returning. The two spent the night of December 15, 1979, together, and McDuffie asked Frederica to join him on a trip to Hawaii—a vacation he’d just won at the office for his performance as the assistant manager at Coastal States Life Insurance.

The following day, Sunday, under bright 80-degree skies, Frederica, a nurse at Jackson Memorial Hospital, drove McDuffie back to his home. She parked the car feeling like there was positive momentum.

They’d talked of remarriage in front of their families. The deal was that if McDuffie could make “certain changes” in his life, then they could go ahead and make it official. As they sat in the car, McDuffie kissed his ex-wife goodbye and promised to be back at her place that evening to take care of their children before her shift. Normally, Frederica worked only afternoons, but the hospital was short-staffed over the Christmas period and she’d agreed to work that night at 11:00.

Shortly after 2:00 p.m., McDuffie walked into 1157 NW 111th Street, the home he now shared with his younger sister, Dorothy, a legal clerk. It was a modest building, painted green. Inside there was a record collection and books of music. McDuffie played

five instruments, all horns. There was

an entire white wall “covered with plaques and certificates of achievement,” including his “Most Outstanding”

award from his Marine Corps platoon. He wasn’t a war hero, hadn’t fought in Vietnam, but McDuffie had been faithful to the corps, a military policeman who had done his job impeccably.

A dutiful father, McDuffie had already wrapped Christmas presents for his two daughters and hidden them in a closet in his bedroom. His nine-year-old would get a wagon, a jack-in-the-box, and clothes. His oldest would get a watch, a tape recorder, a radio,

and a pair of roller skates.

He’d saved for months, but it hadn’t been an easy year to make money. Under President Jimmy Carter, the country, most especially the South, had been battered. Unemployment was stubbornly high, and it looked like the president was being swept downstream by the economy. For all Carter’s preaching of forbearance, the reality was that interest rates were up to 17 percent. In thirty years, inflation had never run higher.

Gas prices had doubled in two years. Even hamburger meat was two dollars a pound.

Despite all this, Carter was about to enter an election year in comparatively good standing. Whatever America thought of his ability to steer the country, he retained the people’s sympathy,

with an approval rating of 61 percent. Six weeks before, the Iranian revolution had become very real to the distant United States. The sixty-two hostages captured in the American embassy in Tehran had helped generate a sudden sense of solidarity in the United States. Between that and the following month’s Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, there was an understanding that Carter had a tricky hand to play. He would promise a strong and quick response to both situations. By the end of the year Carter led his presumptive challenger, Ronald Reagan, by

an enormous 24-point margin.

Still, the mood was summed up best by the

Miami Herald

in 1979. It was a year the average American wallet had “barely survived.” The unseen benefit, according to the paper, was that Miamians like McDuffie lived in Florida. They weren’t being hammered on heating oil like the rest of the country.

By Miami standards, the evening of December 16 counted as cold, expected to dip below 70 degrees and then drop below 60 the following day. Miamians traditionally overreacted, digging out winter coats and scarves for a rare outing. McDuffie selected blue jeans, a navy shirt over a baby-blue undershirt,

and a black motorcycle jacket. He searched his house for a hat to wear under his helmet. At 5:00 p.m., he closed the door behind him.

His own car, a 1969 green Grand Prix, wasn’t parked in its usual spot in his driveway. A friend had borrowed it. So he climbed on an orange-and-black 1973 Kawasaki 2100, “a more or less permanent loan” from his cousin. McDuffie turned the key, revved the engine, and drove the motorcycle south to Fifty-Ninth Street, to his friend Lynwood Blackmon’s house. He pulled up at the front door, feet still astride the bike, and talked to Blackmon’s seven- and eight-year-old daughters. He explained to them that he couldn’t help their father tune their car as he’d promised. His tools were in the back of the borrowed Grand Prix. Next he drove to his older brother’s house, his most common stop, and found him washing his car in his driveway. McDuffie grinned, revved the engine, spat up dirt over the clean car, and sped away before his brother could grab him. He raced to the far end of the street, turned, and braked hard.

“You better slow that bike down,” shouted his brother. McDuffie nodded, grinned, and pulled away.

Sometimes on weekends McDuffie moonlighted as a truck driver, making deliveries to Miami Beach. Sometimes he gave up his time to help jobless youngsters, teaching them how to paint houses. Just two years before, he’d painted the Range Funeral Home, where his body would arrive in exactly a week. On this particular Sunday evening, he was going to see Carolyn Battle, the twenty-six-year-old assistant that McDuffie had hired at Coastal Insurance. She was pretty, independent, and stylish, with a preference for dresses and wearing her hair in an Afro. He’d brought a helmet for her.

McDuffie shouldn’t have been driving at all. His license had been suspended months before, and he’d paid his thirty-five-dollar traffic fine with a check that had bounced. He’d told a coworker that he was worried about getting stopped again, but there were no alternatives for

driving back and forth to work. Public transport was pitiful in Miami, and Liberty City—barely serviced—was reliant on independent jitney operators who rarely worked weekends. Not having a car was a self-quarantine.

McDuffie collected Carolyn Battle. They drove fifteen minutes south, to the edge of Miami International Airport, where they watched planes arcing out over the ocean or dropping into landing patterns above the Everglades. Tiring of the airport, McDuffie drove Battle across MacArthur Causeway to Miami Beach. When McDuffie was a child, dusk would have found an exodus heading the other way:

black Americans subject to a sunset curfew. But on December 16, on the three lanes that ran east over the bright blue shallows, McDuffie showed off, hitting eighty miles an hour. They walked in the sand, stopped for Pepsi, and then at 9:00 p.m. headed back to Battle’s apartment at 3160 NW Forty-Sixth Street, just

five blocks from the Airport Expressway.

At one in the morning, McDuffie slept in Battle’s bed while she watched television on her couch. At 1:30 she woke him up. “Jesus,” said McDuffie, reaching for his watch. He was far too late to show up at his ex-wife’s house. Frederica would have taken the kids over to a babysitter two hours ago. How was he going to make that up to her? Had he blown it? McDuffie gathered his watch, his wedding ring, his medallion. Still dressed in his blue jeans, two blue shirts, and boots, he put on his knitted cap under his white helmet, tied his knapsack to the back of the Kawasaki, and headed north toward home.

Was it a wheelie, a rolled stop sign, a hand lifted from a handlebar to give the finger that caught the sergeant’s attention? The officer would later offer all three explanations of why he’d first noticed the Kawasaki pass by him. It was 1:51 a.m. The sergeant got on the radio, described McDuffie’s white helmet and the tag number of the motorbike, and flipped on his red light and siren. On a cool night, with the rider in jeans, jacket, and helmet, he couldn’t have known if he was black, Latin, or white.

McDuffie appeared to glance in his mirror and then sped through a red light on NW Sixty-First Street. As the sergeant followed in his white-and-green county squad car, McDuffie blew through another red light and swept around corners,

not even slowing for the stop signs. He’d picked a very quiet night for these traffic infractions. Within sixty seconds of the beginning of the chase, McDuffie was being followed by every available unit within Central District.

[lizzybeth1986]

TF MCs for the ask!

Thanks Anon! Someone else has asked me to do Jade (Kaitlyn MC), so I'll shift hers to that ask and do my other two!

JESSICA:

full name and why I chose it: Jessica Phillip. TF was the first Choices series I ever played, and Jessica was often the name I'd use as a teen for my self-insert stories. So that name was the first that came to mind. 

alignment: lawful good

zodiac sign: Leo

favourite movie/TV show: The Crown and the Flame haha. 

weapon of choice: that fancy pen she got in The Senior 

love interest: James Ashton

sexuality: queer

favourite holiday: Christmas. Jessie's father loves making homemade fruit wines (not how James' folks have them made, with barrels and cellars and stuff. Mostly in a bharani with fruit and sugar and yeast and spices, like his mother used to make) mid-year so they'll be perfectly ready for the winter season. James was initially nervous about trying it but found himself loving it. Jessie and James always get a bottle to take home. 

ideal day: cozy, in front of a fireplace, holding a cup of coffee and reading a book. Preferably she and James are nestled together under a blanket.

dream house: anything that also functions as a mini library lmao

favourite mythological figure: Ganesha, esp that little story about the writing of the Mahabharata where the nib of his pen breaks so he breaks off his tusk (he has the head of an elephant) so he can continue writing. "I aim to be that hardcore of a writer", Jessie tells James once. James backs away slowly.

comfort food: Nutella. Straight from the jar. 

description of their favourite outfit: That cute red dress her mum gave her before she left for her London internship

faceclaim:

Amala Paul

MABEL:

full name and why I chose it: Mabel Davis. This one was simple - I've always loved the name and I thought it paired well with Becca. 

alignment: lawful neutral 

zodiac sign: Sagittarius 

favourite movie/TV show: Not exactly a TV show but Buzzfeed Unsolved was pretty high on her list of binge-series'. She loves true crime stories. 

weapon of choice: That drink she "accidentally" spilled on Becca as comeback the day they first met 

love interest: Becca Davenport. The tension is there all through the last half of Mabel's first year but they only get together when she's in sophomore year.

sexuality: bi

favourite holiday: Easter

ideal day: Mabel's a very social person, so her ideal day would involve meeting and talking to lots of people, going out, having fun, lots of dancing. Adventure sports too!

dream house: Bright colours, warm, lots of scented candles. She's crazy about scented candles!

favourite mythological figure: The Muses.

comfort food: Ghanaian jollof rice

description of their favourite outfit: There was this lovely pink and black dress Becca gave Mabel as a thank-you gift for all her help in The Sophomore. That one remains Mabel's favourite outfit for a long, long time to come. 

faceclaim:

Sabina Silverx