#so sorry Sandy and North fans

[heidi-dai]

First concepts for human-ish ROTG characters

Can you tell which is my favorite?

[artficlly]

lady of the ghosts [chapter 8]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: FLUFF, sexual tension, some angst, mention of sex work, mention of war, mention of funeral, tiny amount of anxiety/doubt, swearing, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.5

A/N: i wanted to make this a smaller chapter before shit hits the fan, very dialogue heavy and fluffy. please let me know what you think and reblog/like! sorry for any typos - enjoy!!

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

It was said that Neume once dwelled in the waters surrounding Faliene. As a guardian of the city, she waited beneath the waves. If she detected malice on the ships that entered her waters, she would rise from the ocean floor, her body hulking and blue with seaweed and barnacles entangled across her flesh. She would seize the ships with an iron grip, the wood splintering and cracking under the strain. She would drag the sailors to the bottom of the dark, sandy sea, where they would either drown or perish in her crushing grip. 

She was a protector in more ways than one; her presence wasn’t only to instill fear in those who ventured into the Falienean waters but also to aid those who worshiped her. They claimed she would herd the fish towards the fishermen who sailed off the coast, easing the giant schools into the hand-woven nets. On quiet, empty nights, some claim you could hear her singing. Her hums were reminiscent of whales, eerie and lonesome as they reached across the vast, vacant waters. Her song would lull the creatures to sleep, and only then could she be at peace. 

According to legend, Nemue's deep sleep, brought on by her own song, is what caused Faliene's misfortunes to start. As her children waited for her to return, disease and evil crept into her beloved city and slowly poisoned those who remained. Faliene held her breath, waiting in anticipation for the return of her song. The north had been stuck in a slumber for too long; it was time for her to come alive once more. 

The breeze was stronger than usual up on the rocky cliff of The Fishhook. The slowly rising sun partially melted the snow and ice below, where the waves pounded mercilessly along the exposed coast.  

James squinted his azure eyes against the whipping wind, his hair tousled, and his cheeks pink. The two of you had decided to hike up the southernmost point of Faliene’s coastline before it turned to mountain and sea. You had taken the daunting and winding path upward to the peak of The Fishook, a large curved outlook that had been creatively named due to its shape. Halfway up the path, Steve and Peggy had left you behind in favor of exploring a tiny, frozen cave. You knew it was so they would have a moment alone to continue their activities from the Pass; it was harder to do so with King Harrison’s ever-watching eye. 

“Do you see it?” The winds hurtling along the coast have left your lungs burning, and words are nearly stolen as your breath is ripped from you.

“You might have to point it out to me.” James’ admits sheepishly, eyes darting as he surveys the blue, glacial waters below. You step closer to him, careful and slow on the icy rock below, as the two of you are close to the dangerous edge. If the plummet didn’t kill you, the freezing waves crashing against the rocks certainly would. 

With a gloved hand, you point at a darker patch of water, where presumably the ocean floor is deeper than the rest of the bay. James ducks his head, his eyeline following along to where you point. Your gaze is on the side of his face, watching each emotion cross while studying every twitch of his eyebrow or jaw. 

“It’s supposed to look like a woman curled up on her side.” You explain, watching as he tilts his head ever-so-slightly, as if trying to see from a different perspective. James had been insistent on his prior promise of falling in love with the ghost city. Unlike the other guests, who mainly remained in the warmth of Fort Faliene, drinking and laughing their days away, James required endless exploration. 

Sometimes you wondered if it was somewhat of a ploy to get you alone, as even if Steve and Peggy came along as ‘escorts’, the two of you frequently found yourselves abandoned by the pair. Steve and Peggy had more interest in each other's mouths and bodies than the sights of Faliene, unlike James, who remained enraptured by every story and sight you showed him. 

You had toured him through the docks, the city, and the surrounding areas. The people of Faliene watched on with knowing smiles; even Brannigan seemed chuffed by your apparent familiarity with the King of Galanta. From what you gathered, the Falieneans were secretly pleased and were growing to forgive you for your lack of engagement. Why pester you about marrying a lord when you were actively seducing a king? 

“I see it.” James speaks up from beside you, his confused expression melting into a grin. “Her head is facing the east.”

Your eyes flickered over the now familiar planes of his face, watching as he rubbed the stumble across his jaw out of habit. A small smile plays across your face, words leaving you despite your attention being nowhere near the shape of Neume in the waters below. “I know it’s silly, that it’s just the shape of the seafloor, but Falienean’s have always said it looks like Neume sleeping on her side.” 

“You know, everyone always talks about how superstitious the north is, but I think it’s simply that we Southerners are too boring.” He replies, his eyes abruptly cutting to yours. There is a small smirk across his features as he notices your stare, and you look away, cheeks pink, now not only because of the cold. 

“I don’t think you’re boring.” You hum quietly, your words nearly stolen by the next gust of wind as you look to your feet. 

“We definitely are.”

You sucked on your teeth for a moment, tilting your head so you could see him through your peripherals. A smile crosses your face as you realize he’s been watching you the entire time, gloved fingers reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. You finally pluck up the courage to look back at him. “Tell me a story about Galanta, then. I will be the judge of whether it is boring or not.” 

James lets out a long sigh, looking upwards at the horizon in thought. “They are all stories of war and death, I’m surprised I didn’t die of boredom as a child having to listen to all those tales–”

“You know that I like history.” You cut him off, playfully pushing at his chest. Your cheeks warm up more, realizing that the hard muscle beneath doesn't give under your touch. James chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you. “Tell me a story about when you were at war then. Maybe that will be more exciting because you were actually fighting–”

“People who tell their own tales are always bragging.” James grumbles with a hard look, which quickly softens as he catches your pleading look. He shakes his head with a sigh, humming as if in thought. His hands mindlessly come to your cloak, gloved fingers twisting through the fur trimming.

“During the war,” He begins. “Steve and I stumbled upon Prince Micheal in a whorehouse. He was so drunk on ale that he could barely see, let alone walk. The girls were sick of him, so we offered to take him back to camp. The trip was short-lived, though… We grew tired of dealing with him, so we left him passed out in a pig pen. He didn’t return to camp until the next day, it was lunch when he stormed in. He was all covered in filth. He didn’t remember a thing, but he knew Steve and I had something to do with it, we could hardly keep a straight face due to the stench.” 

A laugh bubbles in your chest, and you shake your head at the brunet. Steve had often mentioned how he and James tormented the Prince when they could. Those were tales that Steve would whisper to you over dinner, while Michael bragged and boasted about exaggerated stories further down the table. Though this was not a story you had heard before, you quickly learned that Steve was not as open with you about his secrets as you first assumed – his and Peggy’s affair being just one example. You wondered how many tales from the war were lost to you due to Steve's reluctance to share. This story seemed to have a glaringly obvious reason why.

“You and Steve frequented whorehouses?” You ask innocently, and you hear James suck in a sharp breath, his head tilting to look away guiltily. A teasing smile plays across your lips as you lean closer to him. “The good King James and his knight Sir. Rogers getting their cocks wet? How scandalous.” 

You could imagine the girls in the whorehouses would have loved to be visited by James and Steve – rich, handsome war heroes? They would’ve been snatched away before they even put their foot in the door. You didn’t have envy or malice for the whores, unlike some ladies of court who bickered about the ‘filthy harlots roaming the war fronts’. You imagined James and Steve would’ve been a welcome break from the usual soldiers who would’ve wondered their way. 

Beside you, James swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he looks back at you with surprise in his guarded eyes. You wondered if he had ever heard you speak in such a vulgar way before — Steve definitely had, especially when he schemed and got you a few drinks in. His hands reach out, gripping your waist to tug you even closer to his body, and you oblige with a satisfied sigh. 

“It’s just the way of things during war.” He says, his voice husky and low as he looks down at you. His words hesitate, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he scans your face. “You’re telling me you didn’t bed a knight or two during the war? While you were all alone in Haiford Castle?”

Your smirk spreads. “You think King Harrison would’ve let me stay if he had any inkling that I wasn’t a virgin?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You allow your eyes to roam over his face as you take your time answering his question. You note the way his pupils have dilated and the subtle strain in his jaw, as if silent worry was clawing behind his cool demeanor. 

“No. I didn’t.” You reply honestly. “You really think I would invite one of your knights into my bed, or even worse, a Haifordian knight?” 

James grins at that, as if secretly pleased by your answer. You could imagine he made assumptions about you, considering your affinity for finding trouble and irritating authority. Even if you often made it your mission to irritate Prince Michael or King Harrison, you had never fallen to the depths of sleeping around with men you despised.

“I must be good then if you’re willing to have me.” He replies, his voice still low and rumbling in his chest.

“And who said you were invited into my bed?” Your eyes flutter upwards as you look at him through your lashes, a coy smile forming in response to his smirk. 

James hums, his hands squeezing tighter as he presses a soft, gentle kiss to one of your exposed collarbones. His grin is cheeky as he raises his head once more, his expression near ravenous as he watches your breath hitch slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin. Everything about his touch and scent is intoxicating, and you nearly forget you are standing on an exposed cliff as you lean heavily into his touch. 

“I am going to speak with King Harrison tonight.”

“About what?” You manage to stutter out. Your mind is hazy and confused as you try to focus on something other than the pattern he is tracing across your ribcage with his thumb.

“Us. Peggy.” James begins, and you stiffen under his touch. “I am going to gift Steve land and make him a lord – maybe a duke or a count. Something high-ranking enough for him to marry Peggy.” 

“I haven’t even agreed to marry you.” You say through narrowed eyes. “Don’t you think this is too early?”

James looks down at you with a frown. “Where else will you go now that the funeral is complete? You can’t return to Haiford… If we settle this issue with King Harrison, you could return to Galanta with me–”

“What if I want to stay here?” You interrupt, and James snaps his mouth shut.

There is a long pause between the two of you, with James sighing slowly through his nose as his grip around your waist eases, his fingers no longer tracing delicate circles.  

“Well…” James begins hesitantly. “Once we are married, you will have to balance your time between Faliene and Galanta, as will I. If you cannot lead Faliene until our marriage, it would be wise that you return to Galanta until the ceremonies–”

“I want to be married in Faliene.” You interrupt once more.

“I thought you said you hadn’t agreed–” He starts with a grin, only for you to cut over him again with a huff.

“Hypothetically. If there were a hypothetical marriage between us, I would want it to be here–”

He is still grinning as he speaks, as if amused. His eyebrows arch as he speaks. “You do realize the Galantaians would riot, right? Robbing them of a wedding celebration–”

“I am only just winning back the trust of my people, they would be insulted if I snubbed them–”

“Well, it is tradition for the wife to be married in the husband's–”

The playful tone that had built through your exchange quickly snaps, and a scowl crosses your face as you take a step back from him. “Please don’t tell me you’re under the assumption that a husband should be the only one in charge simply because he is male–”

“No – Y/N. No.” James gasps, exasperated. His gloved hand raises up, cupping your cheeks as he looks down at you with a frown. “If we are married, Faliene would be run by you and only you. I will sign whatever papers you ask me to, and I will not interfere unless you ask my opinion.”

You blink at him slowly, exhaling sharply out of your nose as you lean into his touch despite the stubborn look across your face. A small part of you is anxious; you have been hesitant and cautious to trust all of your life. What if, like Rumlow, James was trying to fool you into marriage so he could control the seafaring of the continent? 

“Are you telling the truth?” Your voice is quiet, nearly lost to the winds. Thankfully, James doesn’t seem insulted by your wariness.

“Of course I am. I know that if Faliene is to flourish, it can only be under your rule, not mine.” James hums, his thumb gently swiping over the skin of your cheek before he pulls away. “Maybe it is best we leave the talk of weddings until after I deal with King Harrison. Deal?” 

He offers his hand in the small distance between the two of you. You chew on your lip for a moment, nodding your head as the apprehension in your gut eases. You reach out, grasping his forearm near his elbow. The muscle is bulging and swollen in comparison to your small hands. His fingers wrap around your own forearm, engulfing the clothed skin entirely as you both shake hands on this new agreement. 

“Deal.” You mutter back, though you can’t fight back the smile that has formed. 

There is a new feeling growing in your gut. 

Hope.

—

“Does King James always fuck you with his eyes?” Wanda asked from behind you, her nimble hands expertly washing the soap from your hair. Your strands were lazily dangling over the side of the tub, the water trickling off into the bucket below. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a small huff leaving your lips as you leaned harder against the warm metal. 

Once returning from The Fishhook with Steve and Peggy in tow, Wanda managed to sneak you back into your rooms before your presence was requested elsewhere. Tonight there would be one final feast before most of the guests returned home, and it seemed everyone wanted your attention or opinion on the most mundane of subjects. You had been practically assaulted with questions about dining displays and menus, while the Asgardian Princes, Thor and Loki, somehow managed to trick you into showing them the wine cellar. 

As if sensing your rising stress levels, Wanda had pulled you away, declaring she needed to help you bathe and dress for the dinner to follow. 

“You can act all coy, but we’ve all noticed it. Brannigan is biting at the bit to start organizing a wedding.” Wanda continues, and you groan loudly, slipping deeper into the warm water.

“Do not let him organize anything.” You grumble, and the woman chuckles behind you. 

“When you said you knew the Galantian’s well, I didn’t realize it was because you had invited them into your bed–”

“He has not been in my bed.” You protest, sinking even further into the water until it reaches your chin.

“Ah. Matter of time. You can see it on his face that his cock gets hard everytime he looks at you–”

“Wanda.” You cut over her sternly, wrapping your arms across your chest as you turned in the tub to face her with a scowl. The water sloshes around you at your sudden movements, Wanda withdrawing as a small wave departs the tub. “I have already upset King Harrison enough, I can’t upset him more by having rumors spread around.”

“I am sorry.” Wanda sighs, elbows braced against her thighs, as she leans over to look at you. “I am just excited for you.”

You can’t help but let a small smile grace your lips at her words. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, there was always a sincerity and sweetness to Wanda that made you cave. You move forward through the water, your breasts pressed against the metal as you cross your arms over the lip of the tub. 

“I am sorry for keeping secrets… It is just that to keep the peace between Haiford and Galanta, we have to be careful.” You mutter softly. Wanda gives you a sympathetic look, ringing out the damp cloth in her hands. 

“King Harrison is still expecting Princess Peggy to marry King James?” She asks quietly, abandoning the cloth over the lip of the tub. You press your lips together tightly, watching as Wanda fetches you a dry towel. 

“Unfortunately.” You grumble in return, standing. You allow most of the water to cascade off your skin and hair before wrapping yourself in the towel and carefully stepping out of the tub as Wanda readies your dress. 

You quickly dry yourself before the cold sets in, scoffing as Wanda speaks up once more from across the room. “He must be blind if he has not seen the way Princess Peggy and Sir Rogers dance around each other.” 

“I think I may have accidentally helped Peggy by distracting King Harrison.” You admit sheepishly.

Wanda snorts. “He seems to be looking everywhere but at Princess Peggy. Gods, he spends more time enamored with Lord Rumlow than–”

“What do you mean?” You cut over her abruptly.

Wanda arches a brow at you. “King Harrison and Lord Rumlow, they’re always constantly muttering away in the corner, haven’t you noticed?”

“I have.” You say it with a frown. At least you had noticed it more back in Galanta, but these past two weeks between the funeral, James, and organizing, you had barely had time to play spy. It was harder to notice the small things of court when you were now the center of attention rather than a ghost slinking around on the outside of conversation.

“Maybe King Harrison has grown bored of wives – Maeve says that the two of them remain locked up in King Harrison’s rooms most days and nights. She scarcely has time to clean!” Wanda says as she helps you pull on your dress, a thick, dark material with fur trimmings and silver beading around the waist. 

“Does she know what they are doing in there?” You pry cautiously, tugging the sleeves in place and shooing Wanda away as you begin to lace the front. 

“No. They always grow quiet when she knocks, and they send her away. The staff are making bets over what date they’ll announce their affair.”

You don’t reply, instead pondering over this newfound information. Wanda begins muttering about the hairstyle she will craft for you tonight. You are barely listening as you sink into the seat in front of your mother's old vanity. With any hope James’ and King Harrison’s chat goes well tonight, you felt a pit of dread growing in your stomach at the thought of what Rumlow might be scheming.

taglist | @liter4ti @just-someone11 @champagnejoker @scooobies @queerqueenlynn @fanfictionjunkie1112 @themotherof10 @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @riffstorm

[bunnimew]

As a human, which of the spirits in rotg would you be most to least okay being near/hanging out with? As a human, which of the minions in rotg would you be most to least okay being near/hanging out with?

Hello anon! 

What a fun question. 😂 Let’s see, if I had to rank them- Jack + Pitch, Sandy, North, Toothiana, Bunny. For me (Kam), hanging out with BOTH Jack and Pitch would mean fear AND fun and as an avid horror fan, that sounds like my kind of party. 🤣 Sandy? I’m always down for a nap, especially if whimsical dreams are involved. North- cookies and tinkering around making things? Sign me up. Tooth and Bunny have less interest for me- Hanging out at the Tooth Palace would be amazing tho. Bunny… I have too much personal beef with Bunny’s portrayal in the movie to be chill enough to hang out with him. Sorry bun bun. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Minion wise- Nightmares, yetis, tooth fairies, eggs/egg warriors, elves. The Nightmares are just too cool. I will risk some nasty nightmares if it means I could pet one. 😭 🖤 The yetis have a special place in my heart as overworked but well meaning fluffy badasses that get things done. I want to give each one a highfive and a snack that isn’t fruit cake. 🤣 The tooth fairies are adorable. I would be over the moon to have one just hang out on my shoulder for a while. 🥺 The eggs with legs/egg warriors I have an artistic appreciation for. The eggs with legs are just weird enough to pique my curiosity. And the elves… creep me out tbh. 😂 I’m good over here. 

Thanks so much for the ask anon! 😁

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2024/03/20

Once again, the time had come for the Circus of Wayward Wonders to move on.

A member of the maintenance crew piped up, "I know of a great location to head to next! My Aunt Estessa is the mayor of a town along the north coast of the island: Willowside! I hear they're dealing with some troubles, so they could really use some excitement right about now."

The entire circus took a short voyage on a ship (definitely not paid for by Opper Vandy) from Kerrick to the shores of Willowside. Eventually, a sandy beach came into view. A group of twenty people stood on the beach, waiting. But waiting for what? Surely the Circus of Wayward Wonders!

Midori, who had pushed herself to the top of the gangplank on the approach to the pier, strode down to the beach, elbows akimbo. She stopped on the sand in front of the crowd and raised her hands in the air dramatically. "Welcome, good people! We come in peace! Take us to your leader! We are the Circus of Wayward Wonders!"

Every single person on the beach ignored her. Midori's right eye started twitching.

Zookdar came up beside Midori. He suggested jokingly, "I say we hit 'em with a fireball. That'll show 'em respect!"

Midori whispered loudly out of the side of her mouth. "SHH! Zook! I think they can hear you! An' we need payin' customers!" She cleared her throat and tried a different approach:

🎵🎵🎵

Oh, gather 'round, both young and old, Upon this sandy shore so bold, The Circus of Wayward Wonders' tale, Is one of magic that never fails.

Step right up, the show's begun, Under the golden setting sun, A ship of dreams on sands alight, With wonders that will dazzle your sight.

From distant lands, through stormy skies, To entertain, to mystify, The acrobats and jesters dance, Inviting all to take a chance.

The waves applaud with every beat, As mysteries and music meet, A spectacle of sheer delight, That shines as bright as stars at night.

Step right up, don't be shy, The circus ship has sailed nigh, On this beach, we'll weave a spell, Of Wayward Wonders to retell.

So let the drums and trumpets sound, As our ship has run aground, To share with you our storied quest, The Circus of Wayward, simply the best.

🎵🎵🎵

Once the song had ended, Midori heard one person in the crowd clapping. "Oh, a fan! Perhaps somebody local with skills who may want to join our merry troupe? Please, come forward!"

The short-statured circus aficionado stepped forward. Midori squinted in the noontime sun to see. "Oh, little girl, would ya like to run away and join the circus?"

A high-pitched, melodic voice answered, "Yes, that's exactly what I want to do."

Lysander stated flatly, "Midori, she's clearly a halfling."

Midori replied, "Not a little girl?"

Lysander gestured at the short woman, more flustered, and responded, "Look at her hairy, bare feet!"

Midori shot back, "Are you sure?"

Lysander exclaimed, "You know what a halfling looks like! For Pharasma's sake, you worked with Alyssa Sunmeadow selling concessions at the Celestial Menagerie for a year!"

Midori turned to the halfling woman. "Sorry 'bout that. The sun got in my eyes. But, yes, let's tell ya about our circus!"

Zookdar offered, "We have doctors, lawyers, charlatans, crooks, thieves…."

The woman asked, "Have any books?"

Zookdar continued, "Some books. Gypsies, tramps, did I mention the thieves?"

The halfing replied, "Yeah, so, here's my deal. I have some sleight-of-hand skills. I can get along with your thieves. I have some magic and some musical talent as well. I go by 'Magical Myrrie.'"

Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd brushed past the circus folk to talk to the other people who had come in on the ship: merchants who were setting up shop right there on the beach as the crowd clamored to buy their wares. Some of the party joined them to see what was for sale.

Zookdar announced, "It's bread and foodstuffs."

Midori entreated the crowd, "You've had your bread, now it's time for the circus!" She put on a cheesy grin and gestured jazz hands at them, but, once again, they completely ignored her.

Galon mentioned, "Hey, this bread is very expensive. Crazy expensive. And it just looks like your run-of-the-mill loaves. What gives?"

His bags full of foodstuffs, a local man walked by the party and offered, "Hey, want to join the caravan? I assume you're heading into Willowside."

Galon replied, "Sure!"

The local man advised, "We'll be heading out in the next twenty minutes."

The caravan traveled down a windy dirt road through sand. The party noticed that the land was very dry, with mostly dead, withered little plants poking out here and there. No sound of insects cut through the heavy silence.

Zookdar decided to make small talk with locals to see what he could find out about the area. He found out that the local crops had not been doing well for some time. There has been a plague on a stretch of land to the southwest of the town that they call "The Welt." Willowside is now quite poor, as the townsfolk have been spending all of their savings on overpriced food.

Zookdar started probing, "So, is…anybody worried that you might be afflicted by an evil wizard?"

A local woman answered, "There was talk about it, but we didn't find one. We did try drowning, like, forty witches, but that didn't help. But you can't be too safe, am I right?"

Zookdar grimaced, but continued, "Anything else notable over the last few years?"

There was no answer.

"Would anybody give us more information for…one gold piece? And a silver?"

Midori helped out, "And three, no, FOUR coppers?"

The woman replied, "Nah."

Zookdar and Midori just shrugged and sat back to get comfortable for the rest of the ride.

As the caravan drew closer to town, Galon noticed a shrubbery moving in the distance. A scream erupted from the general direction, "Help! Help! The shrubbery is trying to eat me!"

Galon, Midori, and Zookdar jumped down from the cart and readied their weapons for action. It seemed that Lysander had fallen asleep in the back of the cart. In his place, Buffy strode over to the party, potions of healing clinking as they rotated to the front of her vending racks. Before they could act, however, one of the local men ran to the shrubbery to help. Shortly after, the party heard him scream, "Help! Help! I'm also being repressed!"

The party ran to the shrubbery to find three giant flytraps accosting two people.

Zookdar ran in with a battle cry to intimidate the foes.

One of the plants focused on Midori, hitting her and attempting to grab her. She narrowly avoided its grasp.

Galon flanked the plant attacking Midori and unleashed a flurry of blows on it, also narrowly avoiding capture.

Midori screeched at her opponent:

Listen here, you photosynthetic fiend, My friends and I won't be so easily gleaned. We'll trim your tendrils and your ego deflate, For we're the gardeners of our own fate!

The plant shook from the painful vibrations of Midori's attack.

All of the commotion had awoken Lysander, who ran to join the fray. Buffy, sensing that a party of four could handle things, retreated to the cart.

The plant then attacked Galon, grabbed him, and tried to swallow him whole! Galon barely grabbed on to the sides of the plant's maw to remain outside.

Lysander, not wanting to get too close, fired his Hex Blaster gun at the plant, but missed. Sighing, he reloaded.

Zookdar struck the giant flytrap with his flaming gnome flickmace, hitting it, knocking it down, and setting it on fire!

The battle continued on like this for several rounds, the giant flytraps grabbing and swallowing party members, while other party members fought back and freed their allies. All in all, Galon was swallowed twice, Zookdar was swallowed three times, and Midori was knocked out and swallowed once.

With his final blow, Galon killed the last giant flytrap, freeing everyone who had been trapped inside.

Midori shouted with disgust, then said, "C'mon, let's treat our wounds and continue on." She gathered the party into a tight square and began bandaging everyone up. Before they could rejoin the caravan, however, Galon noticed some footprints in the dry, cracked earth trailing off to the east. They looked like the tracks of a reptilian quadruped!

(Some images Copyright Paizo, Inc.)

[qvistwheeler9]

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[thatonegreyghost]

I feel like being extra today, so have some California gothic(SoCal edition):

There is no rain. There is never rain. If it comes, it comes when everyone is inside or asleep. Roads flood and swimming pools spill over and there is half a foot of water on every corner. Then it dries and its gone forever. There is no rain.

There is something in the ocean. You can't see it, because you aren't far out enough for the water to be clear, but it doesn't matter; anytime you do go far out enough, it's too deep to see the bottom. There's a ledge where the sandy floor drops into a steep cliff; young kids who are brave enough to swim out the ten feet to reach it dare their friends to jump. You see fishermen on the pier and the beach, and even though you've never seen as much as a piece of bait on the shore, you keep your distance to avoid a hook in your foot. The water glitters with flecks of gold; when the waves crash, the sand is stirred up enough to reveal the precious metal. You've heard stories about people jumping off the pier, but you never see it happen. You love the ocean. Maybe you'll come again when there's less people. There's something in the ocean; maybe one day you'll actually see it.

The air around LA is dirty. Its orange and gray and disgusting. Breathing it in makes you feel nauseous, dirty, depressed. When it rains(it never rains), you can see all the skyscrapers, and the mountains! The mountains are so clear. It only lasts a few days, and the smog is back. Time slows down on the freeway leading into downtown. You sit in traffic, staring at the license plate ahead of you. Its been ten minutes since everyone stopped moving. You look up at the skyline; has it always been that orange? Someone honks behind you, and you turn your attention to the road. Its been five minutes. No one's moved.

There's a fire somewhere. It makes sense; you got a lot of rain that winter, and the summer was predictably hot. You wake up at three in the morning; on the coast, because you smell burning, in the hill, because a neighbor is pounding on your door. The sky turns red, and when high schoolers leave their third period, they can't see. Nothing gets canceled except for sports. There is ash in the pool; it will stay for weeks until the first home meet.

"Coyotes are back" the sign says. You think of your dog, a good sized dog that can protect itself. You think of your neighbors dog, a scrawny thing that would get snatched in an instant if it were left out at night. You think of your friend's cat, and how the only dead cats you've ever seen are mauled on the side of the road. Coyotes are back. You don't think they ever really left.

The lights went out last night. You know this because your alarm went off at two am instead of six, and because of the blinking 12:01 on your clock. Your fan is still going at least; without it, you would be smothered to death by heat, heat that builds and builds and builds until its cooler outside than in. The pools are open for the summer, but unless you know friends or family with one, you'll have to pay. You think that's kind of cruel, but say nothing. You're too hot to think.

There is a June bug in your house. Its July. There is a June bug in your house.

A gun shot goes off. No, wait, that was a firework. You wonder how your neighbors got those fireworks, the kind that bang instead of whistle and shriek instead of scream. You hope they don't go to the hill to set them off. There have been enough fires in recent years. You hear the bang again. You count the weeks to the fourth of July; three weeks to go. You'll get some sleep in a month.

There is nothing in the dark. Absolutely nothing. You know this because the night makes you feel safe, because it is cool and refreshing. There is nothing in the dark. You walk faster anyway.

A tourist from the Midwest complains about sunburn. You laugh; you don't get sunburn. You can't remember the last time you had sunburn. Sunburn is what happens to outsiders, or those with less melanin. You stare at the strawberry blonde whose face is as red as her hair. Even your white friends aren't so pale; living here, you've absorbed the sun into your skin and the golden warmth into your smile. Outsiders say you are beautiful. Insiders know why.

Disneyland is too expensive. You can't afford it, you don't want to go. You still think fondly of your past trips. Knott's is smaller, more local, but a yearly pass is a fraction of a Disney day ticket. You go to Knott's with friends. You don't regret anything. You say you should go again. You still want to go to Disneyland.

Southern California is its own state. Outsidrrs say "NorCal" and "Frisco" and wonder why locals stare. See's Candies are everywhere, every city has at least one. SoCal is dry and arid and has such a different climate from up north. There are forests in the north. You have never seen them.

There are abandoned train tracks everywhere. You want to walk along them. Your parents and friends say no. You ask why. They say its dangerous, they say there are coyotes on the tracks. They never say you might find a homeless camp. They don't need to; you already know. The homeless aren't dangerous. You stay away from them anyway.

You are chatting with an online friend. They say the snow is bad. They say their parents hate them for coming out. They say they don't feel safe at night because of the things outside. You are shocked. You know thses things can happen, but you never really believed they could before now. You tell them you are sorry. You try to understand what their life is like. You can't; you don't understand how their life is so different, yet they live in the same country as you.

LA to San Diego is 3 hours. LA to San Francisco is 8 hours. You have been to San Diego before. Its very nice. You've passed through it on your way to Mexico. You don't like coming back from Mexico; border patrol is scarier on that side. You worry that you will answer a question wrong and you will be kept on the wrong side of the border. You are a US citizen. You think about San Francisco. You've never been. It sounds lovely.

Your friend has a green card. You don't care; your friend is the same age as you, you met in elementary school. You hear a person in power talking about deportation. You are nervous for your friend. Your friend is a good person, their family is nice. Your friend wonders if they should take the citizenship test. You say nothing.

As a child, the police scared you. No one told you to be afraid of them, you just were. Now, you are still scared. At least this time, you know why.

You keep a bottle of baby powder in your car, right next to the beach towels and a scrubbie brush. "To get the sand off." You say to the questioning looks from the out of towner. You think they are visiting family. Most of your family lives here, and you don't remember who the outsider is related to. They gawk at the ocean. Its just the ocean.

Big Bear is pretty. Its always pretty. In the summer there's camps and in the winter there's snow. You go up for the day, once a year; its why you have a sled you never use.

Fourth of July is pretty cool. You get fireworks from the local high-school or local church, and you spend two hours setting them off. The pictures and video don't come out right, but it doesn't matter. You know this is a holiday celebrating America. You only care about the colors, and in the back of your mind, if someone might accidentally start a fire.

[ginwhitlock]

Southbound : Chapter 6

After the Cullens leave her behind, Bella is left to pick up the pieces by herself. A year after her eighteenth birthday, a split second decision lands her in her truck, running far away from everything she has ever known. She decides to go south. What will she find in San Angelo, Texas?

After Peter left, the air between us felt stagnant, cold, like a pond left uncovered in the first freeze of winter. The man in front of me didn’t smile, didn’t even fake a breath for my own comfort. I know he could feel the shard of glass slowly sinking into the pit of my stomach; the fact of its direction changing, resigning, surpassing my throat to lodge itself in my skull as a sharp ache not lost on me. 

And I’m sure, not on him. 

I knew Jasper. I had sat feet from him not even years before. What had changed in those aching months? What kind of lust seeped into his unbreakable bones since? This man was toothier, slumping shoulders spread wide against the settee. Who was this brother of his and why did he have Jasper now? I mean— he had explained just moments ago the short extent of Alice and his separation, but the questions were tar in my brainstem: unmoving, guilty, painful. The faint imprint memory of his hand on my knee softened the creases under my eyes. His eyes were nothing if not full of memories.

He scared the shit out of me. The worst part of me liked it. 

The keys in my hand were jangling as I wrung my hands against the metal. They were ice cold from Peter’s grip and yet I never shied away from them, I rested into their cut, their steel mill scent. It’s all the comfort I had left in this unfamiliar sandy home. 

“You never told me where you meant to end up, Isabella.” 

The look on his face hadn’t changed from its hawk-like gaze, his mouth upturned in what was made to be sincere questioning.

My teeth seemed to buzz in my jaw as they clenched. I was stuck between trying to find the answer that made the most sense— but this far away haunted house was nowhere close to where I was headed. To be honest, I hadn’t even made a plan for my drive, the road had been a black licorice rope pulling me deeper and deeper south, its vines unswervable. 

Those damn carmine irises were still on my face. My hand settled on the silver scar.  “Somewhere without you— your kind.” There's a horrible dread that sinks deep into the pit of my lowest bones, down past the acid lining of my stomach. It wasn’t mine in the first place…

He smiled again. That fangy lip twitch he implemented earlier in his bedroom, his searing white canines glinting in the southern sun. Jasper did some twist of his knuckles as they rested on his denim knee, the bareness of the marble flesh punctuated. 

“Do you truly think your life will not continue to be… supernatural?” He paused something big and let his lashes point away from me, his gaze settling right behind my head, “The world has never been that kind. Especially to you, Miss Swan.” The way his tongue curled around my name made something twist in my gut. Something that felt like finally breaching the top of a rollercoaster after clunking around in the seat for several minutes. 

I took a breath, “No hope for me then, Mr. Cullen?” 

“Whitlock, darlin. Mr. Whitlock.” 

His correction was daring and quick, like a dare. The scared shitlessness was starting to turn. 

“Oh?” I’m sure my eyes were the size of dinner plates served on the damn moon. 

His quirk faltered as he refocused on the skin of my neck. “The Cullens aren’t the biggest fans of the ousted members keeping their name, I’m sure. Whitlock was my human name.”

My lip twitched, “Like Peter?” He did say they were brothers, it would make sense the tanner man kept it while Jasper stayed up north. 

“He adopted it when I changed him in the twenties. He didn’t need to remember his own.” 

The paint covering the living room walls was starting to feel warmer and warmer. There was a sort of mysticism in the air, the kind of feeling Phil said he got standing on the pitcher’s mound. This charge of electricity. And if I felt it— did the man in front of me do too?

“You changed Peter?” 

A hum came from his Adam's apple. I quickly stopped staring at its vibration, focusing on my still hands. “Is that where you got that name? The ‘Major’?” My legs felt like salt blocks sat out for the new fawns. 

Jasper kicked his foot out, inches from my own. “All in time, Isabella.” 

Why the hell was that the question he kept dodging?

I nodded against my own snooping judgement and sat up straight, gripping the cut key again. “Peter said something about seeing my truck?” As if on cue the sound of a backfire sounding across at least an acre of dirt, the laugh of the man in question following in direct response. 

He reminded me of a wilder, leaner, Emmett. 

I didn't know if that was a good thing. 

The blond rolled his eyes, something I would’ve passed out seeing months ago, which now just made him more and more intriguing. His hand raised without fantastical speed and made an ushering motion, inviting me silently to stand and follow him to the front door, not even twenty feet to our backs. I did as I… wasn't… told and raised to my shuffling feet, watching with barely suppressed intensity as he did the same, his shirt unbunching as his long legs swept past me. His strides were unhurried yet strong, quickly reaching the exit without me. Jasper’s slim fingers turned the knob gently and allowed the now open door to rest against his shoulder. 

“I’m sure my brother will find you the moment you start walkin’. I have to get to some business caused by my early departure earlier.” My shoes scuffed the hardwood as I passed by him, the scent of firewood and malt whiskey light in the air of the threshold. I nodded again as I looked back at the giant southerner. 

“So I’ll be making it back?” Half joking, half fearful the words slipped past my lips. 

He smiled truly that time, his teeth hidden behind his smile. “Of course Isabella. No one plans to kill you… for as long as I can see.” 

The door closed slowly as I turned away from him in only slight ease, the sound of his footsteps behind it unrecognizable. Texas dry wind called to me from the bare porch, wooden planks creaking ever so slightly underneath my weight. The world was quiet— in only a way nature could be quiet. Silence without loneliness. 

Another diesel racket sounded over the slight hill in the property, some of the only patches clustered with shruby, overgrown trees.  

“Bell!” 

There was a smile hiding under the surface of my skin, not the least undetectable. My stride started up again as I half jogged through the crab grass and rusty dirt. It had to be almost two or three o’clock now, the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. 

Had the day gone by so fast— or so slow?

I couldn’t decide which it was. Not yet. Not now.

The baked exterior of my cab was just in sight over the small hill, somehow further away from the bare dirt trail than it had been this morning. Had the black eyed man… moved it? It didn’t run, at least not by my hand, he would’ve had to have pushed it… or picked it up. 

God, Peter was starting to turn out more and more like the biggest Cullen boy by the second. 

My shoes were caked in dead weeds and clay dust by the time I reached the freckled vampire— an attribute I still hadn’t made sense of. His cowboy hat was a stark black against his darkened porcelain skin. He smelt rough like a redwood forest, something private. Secluded. Peter’s hands were covered in the ink black of motor oil and grease, the solutions clinging to his perfect fingernails. 

He had to be related to Jasper somehow, there's no way he wasn’t. I was sure of it. 

Or maybe I was just hoping.

Silly girl. 

His eyes could’ve mirrored his brother’s and I wouldn’t have noticed anything past the sight just behind him: my truck was pulled at the seams. 

“Sorry bun, I think your baby might need some extra attention before it gets anywhere near a highway.” My breath was loose in my throat, air whistling behind my eyes. The transmission was the only thing complete under the hood. The engine block was propped up by a chain tied to a lone pecan tree, the rest of the assembly laid out on a blanket on the pitted ground. The well of tears hit the back of my eyes before he started to speak. 

“I had to take the engine apart to diagnose the problem— something to do with some coils. It ain’t as bad as it looks, I promise, Bell.” I nodded for the fiftieth time that day, my words fleeting in the paralysing tunnel that had become my voice box. The only thing I had kept when I left was now in pieces at my feet, the soil unforgiving and rough against the cotton blanket they sat on. The downpour of fear came down my sinuses and filtered out through my spine, the tips of my fingers pulsing with thunder. Peter stood, apathetic to the storm raging through my body, his stance curling around my own slightly, as if in defense to the world around us, to the truth in front of me. 

“How long will it take to fix?” My voice was weak and pitiful, stripped of its playful kick Peter initially instilled. 

He twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “Could be a week or more. Maybe two.” His own speech didn’t reflect his burdening appearance. It was almost airy, a light glee hidden subtly behind the consonants. 

My brain stored the small inflection for a much later time. 

“You know,” he started, his massive wiped hand drawing to my shoulder, “me and the Major don’t mind some company around the house. The old thing could use some life in it while your truck gets some beauty work done.” His suggestion wouldn’t have sounded like such a question if anyone else had uttered it, but the draw of the Whitlock boys held a certain power over my otherwise powerless existence, at the moment. I wanted answers, stories, the in and outs of the clan I had called family as a younger girl. 

I wouldn’t admit to anyone else my other wants. 

Hell, I couldn’t even admit them to myself yet. 

I made a sound in the back of my throat that made up for another nod and pursed my lips in false thought, the field stretching before me in an unwavering sea of curiosity. 

“Only until she's fixed. I’ve served my time living with vampires for two lifetimes.” 

There was an explosion of a laugh from Peter’s tan lips and I smiled in turn. The truck was a cesspool of terrifying possibilities, insecurities. But for right now, the horrible itch in my brain led me further into the immortal light. 

The cold digits of the human drinker felt featherlight against my back as he sputtered to an airy stop. “You are truly something Bell.” My teeth poked through my lips as I looked into his face and found simple lineless skin and sandy curls. My eyes rested back on the rusted out birthday present and sighed. “Do you want any help?” It sounded almost like a plea, the time splitting me farther and farther. 

He shook his head with vigor. “Baby doll, I’m not sure you’d make it go any faster.”

I had half a mind to slap him on the chest, no matter the bruising I’d sustain. 

“I’m not that dimwitted.”

He sucked unneeded air through his teeth and let me go, stepping towards the hull. “Just believe me.” 

I shook my head like a dumped dog and looked back towards the house, just barely noticeable at this distance. The question bounced around my stomach before it left my mouth, “What is Jasper up to?” 

Peter raised a brow and picked up an impact wrench.

“I’m not sure you’d want to know.”

[eriklivesinmybasement]

Rise of the Guardians: Is it as good as we remember?

(Oof! I’ve been working on this one for a long while! Buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long one!)

(Before I get into this, I want everyone to know that I’m not claiming anything to be fact. This is just my personal opinion).

Back in November of 2012, we were greeted with Rise of the Guardians. This movie, based on the books entitled The Guardians of Childhood, written by William Joyce, gave us a new and unique take on our favorite childhood characters. This included Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Jack Frost, and more.

While it didn’t do so well at the box office, it seemed to explode in popularity. It spawned a fandom fairly quickly, even spawning a couple fandoms that branched off of it. For a long while there it seemed that, wherever you looked, you saw cosplays, fanart, tribute videos, fanfiction, etc. Loads of people seemed to absolutely love this movie, and I, as a twelve-year-old at the time and thus a part of the target audience, was no exception.

Even now eight years later, I still claim to love this movie. Even though I haven’t seen it in a long while, it left a huge impact on me as a writer and artist, which is why I am sad to see the fanbase slowly dwindling away. So I went back and watched it again, and as I sat there ready to press the ‘play’ button, I began to wonder. 

Will this movie be as good as I remember it?

And the answer? Yes and no.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I still really like this movie, and I still stand by it being one of my favorites. But just like everything else in life, nothing is perfect. And while still amazing, this movie does indeed have some flaws. 

And as I like to save the best for last, I’ll start off by diving into some of the movies flaws.

Flaw #1 - Pacing

The pacing in this movie can be a little awkward from time to time. Nothing super jarring, but enough to make me go, “I’m sorry, what?”. 

Some scenes seemed to just jump from one to the other without much warning. Either that, or the transition from one scene to the next seemed a little off. One example of this is when North, Bunny, Sandman, and Jack Frost set off to the Tooth Palace. There was nothing inherently wrong with these scenes, but the transition between the two seemed a little awkward. One minute we were having a nice, calm moment between North and Jack, and then all of a sudden we get a quick, action-like sequence with the sleigh.

Another moment that felt awkwardly paced was the introduction of the movies villain, Pitch Black. It seemed like there should’ve been more buildup to him. We got a bit, but moments of buildup seemed quite few and far between. When he was introduced it felt almost a little random, him just appearing for a few moments and disappearing just as quick didn’t seem to work or do him justice.

There are other scenes, but I won’t go over those now, as I guess I’m probably already bugging some hardcore RotG fans.

Flaw #2 - Unexplored Questions and Backstories

Alright, before I get people shouting me down about how, “If I want backstory and questions answered I should read the books”, hear me out.

When you make a story, whether it be in the form of a movie or book, you’re going to want it to make sense. You’re going to want everything to tie together. It’s true that the original books do this, but it’s not seen in the movie. So for those who watch the movie, they may walk out confused about some aspects of it. The two parts I’m going to focus on here are Pitch Black’s backstory, and how Sandman came back to life.

Every story needs a good villain, and Pitch Black is certainly a well-defined villain. But here’s the problem. We get no backstory or explanation as to how he came to be. We do get a quick flashback to Pitch during the ‘Dark Ages’, which gives us his motivation as to why he’s doing what he’s doing. But that’s it. We get no other real backstory to how he came to be. Actually, we don’t get that for any of the other Guardians besides Jack Frost. But again, the other Guardians lack of backstory could be forgiven, as none of them are the main characters. But it’s important to tell a villains backstory because it gives the audience something to connect with.

Onto the next question. How exactly did Sandman come back to life?

This is a question that’s actually been on my mind for a while now. How exactly did Sandy come back? In the movie we clearly see him die, so how did he come back from the dead? The only lead I got is that maybe the kids somehow brought him back. During the final confrontation with Pitch, Jamie touches some of the black nightmare sand and it turns gold. It’s later on after that that he looks to the other kids and says, “I know what we have to do,” and they run offscreen for a little while, only for Sandy to show up soon after. Did Sandy come back through the kids believing in him again? Did they preform some sort of ritual to call him back from the dead? Who knows. It’s a dumb nitpick, I know, but I still wonder.

Well, now that I got that out of the way, and the RotG fandom is probably coming after my head, I’ll go over the strengths of this movie. And trust me, these really help the movie stand out.

Strength #1 - The Characters

All the characters in this movie are phenomenal! But to be honest, Jack Frost was the reason I originally wanted to watch this film when it first came out. Growing up I never really heard any stories about Jack Frost, and the only Jack Frost I ever saw in the media was of a withered old man. So seeing him portrayed as a teenager seemed pretty interesting. And the character was handled and written very well. His backstory was intriguing, he had a fun and enjoyable personality, but that’s not all.

One thing that was really great about Jack Frost’s character was his struggle throughout the story, and it’s actually a pretty relatable struggle as well. In the story, Jack Frost starts out not knowing who he really is or why he’s even alive. Not only that, but it seems that no mortals can see him, effectively making him invisible to the entire world. The story follows him as he looks for answers to his identity. 

This can be a very relatable situation, especially for preteens and early teenagers who are still trying to figure themselves out. And most all of us get to this point. We reach a time in our lives, often in our youth, where we start to wonder exactly who/what kind of person we are. Along with the desire to discover ourselves, there is also the fear/feeling of being invisible and isolated, not understanding where we exactly fit in. Again, everyone reaches a place like that as well, where we feel invisible to the world. Just a passerby. Like we have something amazing to share, if only we could get someone to see it. 

The other characters don’t come off as deep or complex as Jack, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable. Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Sandman were all very creatively designed and portrayed. A lot of the fun from this movie actually came from all these strong, drastically different personalities clashing with and bouncing off of one another. It made for some fun dialogue and hilarious moments which had me laughing off and on throughout the beginning of the film. 

Strength #2 - The Villain

Pitch Black is, without a doubt, one of my favorite DreamWorks villains. I loved everything about this character. From the voice, the design, the aesthetic, it’s all wonderful! But the one thing that set this villain up above many others was that he straight up killed an important character onscreen.

Reminder, I was twelve when this movie came out, and up until then, I wasn’t often exposed to death scenes like this in animated films. I grew up majorly on Disney animated movies and shows, and when a character died, it was usually offscreen. And on the occasion it was onscreen? The villain only indirectly killed a character. For example, in the Lion King, Scar pushed Mufasa into a gorge where a stampede was taking place. Scar killed him indirectly, as he’s the one who put him there, but the stampede is what really did the work.

But in this case it was much different. It’s not like Pitch took Sandy off to the side and killed him there. No, we legit saw this whole scene happen and play out on screen. When I first saw it, it blew my mind! This was actually kind of new for me! We saw Pitch take that shot at Sandy, and we actually saw Sandy’s final moments as he died. When you have a villain physically kill off a beloved character on screen, it sends a message. It sends the message that this villain isn’t all talk. That this villain really does have great power of their own, and that they are serious about getting what they want. That they aren’t going to let anyone get in their way. They mean business. And that was perfectly executed in this scene. (No pun intended).

Strength #3 - The Creativity and Art

I think it goes without saying that this movie is unbelievably creative! Everything from the locations, animation, and the characters themselves in both personality and design are just bursting with creative energy! The animation is incredibly detailed, and for DreamWorks as an animation studio, I think this has to be some of their best work. The colors, textures, details, and everything in between are just so beautifully done. In terms of creativity, two of the locations I want to talk about are the Tooth Palace and Pitch Black’s lair. 

When it comes to the Tooth Palace, the artists and creators were given a lot of creative freedom. In media there is no set idea of a place where the Tooth Fairy lives or operates. We all know Santa lives in a workshop, and it makes sense to think that the Easter Bunny lives in a Warren, but no one really knows what to expect when it comes to the Tooth Fairy. When we saw the Tooth Palace, we were treated to some highly detailed and stunning imagery, all with a lovely color scheme of soft pinks, purples, and blues with accents of gold. Not to mention the design of the structural design was a spectacle itself to behold.

And then we have Pitch Black’s lair. As a lowkey goth at twelve years old in the early 2010s, the aesthetic here made it one of my favorite parts of the movie. This set here is similar to the Tooth Palace in that, the creators had a greater level of creative freedom, as we never really think about where exactly the Boogeyman lives. I mean, we know he kinda lives under beds, but that doesn’t sound as cool as living in a spooky, gothic underground secret lair. (But in all honesty, I do really enjoy the detail of the entrance of his lair being under an old, broken down bedframe. It’s a very good nod to the old stories).

It’s like a maze. A labyrinth full of shadows, and looks like the interior of an old, gothic castle that’s somewhat tilting into an abyss. It’s color scheme is predominantly full of grays and blacks, and the surprisingly elegant-looking cages hanging from an invisible ceiling really helps to establish a more gothic look. And since the lair is very dark and shadowed, it fits and aids Pitch black perfectly, in that he can morph in and out of shadows as he pleases. This gives him plenty of places to hide as he’s making an effort to mess with and get into Jack’s head.

The last piece of creativity I want to touch on is how the characters are presented. And holy crap after this movie this is the only way I can view Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, etc.!

They take these beloved characters that we are already familiar with, and, while still somewhat showing them as we know them, present them in an entirely different way. 

We all see Santa Claus as this huge, lovable man with a big belly who’s always jolly. And while that is what we get from this Santa, or North, as they call him, it’s very much flipped on its head. While still jolly, North is very eccentric, high-energy, and is strong-armed, duel broadsword wielding Russian warrior with tattoos. Seriously, who thinks of a Russian warrior when they think of Santa?! Well, now I do! Also the fact that he’s not always super happy like other incarnations of the character. We get to see that he’s very capable of getting both upset and frustrated. It’s a pretty interesting way to humanize such a beloved character.

We then have the Easter Bunny, who is played by Hugh Jackman. Say that out loud. The Easter Bunny is being played by Hugh Jackman. Growing up, me and many other kids saw the Easter Bunny as a small, cute little critter who hopped around the world leaving baskets and painting eggs. Not a tall, boomerang wielding fighter from the Australian outback. Not only that, but giving him a small rivalry with North was interesting, and snot something I ever really thought about. As well as the idea of a the Easter Bunny having somewhat of a temper.

In terms of character design, I feel like both the Tooth Fairy and Sandman had the most creative freedom. We don’t see these two characters often portrayed in media, so they were able to receive some really cool and unique-looking designs. Especially the Tooth Fairy. Did you ever think of the Tooth Fairy looking a like an elegant cross between a beautiful woman and a hummingbird? No, of course you didn’t. But Rise of the Guardians gave us just that, and it truly set its place for it’s own individual take on this childhood legend. 

Pitch Black is a fairy creative villain as well. When you hear about the Boogeyman, you don’t get very scared. The name actually sounds a little silly when you say it out loud. And even then, because of the success of The Nightmare Before Christmas, you usually think of their incarnation of the character when you hear that name. But this version of the character is actually much different. He’s not this weird, in-your-face kind of monster. He’s a very subtle, yet terrifying character. When I first saw the movie in theaters, there were kids in the room crying at moments when Pitch Black came on screen. It’s also interesting the way his powers work. We all grew up knowing the Boogeyman as someone who just hid under beds. We had no idea what magical powers he may or may not have had. So giving him the ability to morph into the darkness and into shadows was a pretty cool concept, but also solidified that he had a weakness. Light.

So, In Conclusion...

As I have gotten older, I admit that this movie does look a little different to me now, versus when I saw it as a preteen. I’ve noticed some interesting flaws here and there, but I’ve also been able to remember why I fell in love with it in the first place. It’s a very different kind of movie, but that’s part of what makes it so much fun and interesting.

The characters are delightful, the villain is intimidating, the story, while awkwardly paced, is still pretty solid, and is all tied together with a great lead character. And as you get invested in the story, you’ll find yourself getting really into the all artistry that went into creating this movie.

At the end of the day, it makes me sad to see the fanbase for this movie slowly dwindling away. But I feel there are always going to be people out there who enjoy this movie. And you know what? You never know what the future holds. Perhaps there will be a movie in the distant future. Or more likely a animated series on either TV or Netflix. And for the hardcore fans, go and read the original books. 

All I can say here is that, every now and again when it starts to get a little nippy outside, I’ll sit in my living room with hot chocolate and give this movie another watch.

[normal-thoughts-official]

See I think the problem is sweden is just.. cold amshnsdhdj we can’t really grow spices here so throughout the times it’s just been salt and pepper (until we started importing spice from the colonies like we thought we were the brits lmao) but traditional swedish food is like??? Potatoes and meatballs with lingonberry jam and sometimes you make the sauce out of the fat you fried the meatballs in and it’s gross. I’ve never been to Germany actually but that restaurant sounds disgusting I’m so sorry what are they doingggg. THANKFULLy we have so much food imported from pretty much everywhere that most people’s favourite foods is almost always something that didn’t originate here. Like tacos!! It’s a staple in pretty much any household here, at least where I grew up, and one of my friends is obsessed with Indian food, specifically vindaloo which is so so spicy but so good. As for the cream cheese sushi, at the restaurant here they put it in the maki rolls with veggies and a piece of omelet, i cannot stress how good it is ahaha. I love food so much!!! I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything Brazilian specifically, but since we’re talking about it I’m really curious. If you have a specific dish or anything you think I should try let me know!! I’m gonna ask google but it’s always fun to get tips from someone who is living with the culture behind it and everything!! - salmon anon (salmnon? salmanon? Swenson? I actually wrote swenon but my phone corrected me so I’m leaving it skhdkshd)

aaaa okay so when it comes to brazilian food you gotta understand that there’s...... so much stuff. our cuisine is super varied and rich and there’s just... a lot. so it all depends on what strikes your fancy. but i have a few suggestions, although keep in mind that again, brazilian cuisine is varied and rich and it’s a big country, so i have the mos contact with food from my region (the southeast), although i’ve been to the northeast, north, and south as well

so the basis of culinary in most brazilian households is the rice + beans + farofa combo. farofa is basically cassava flour with spices, it is made to add Big Crunch to the meal. we eat that in every meal, except for breakfast. it’s kinda the foundation/pillar of the plate. i do recommend trying it, absolutely. the most likely version of that for you to find is feijoada, which is a little stereotypical as far as brazilian dishes go, but i doubt you’d find regular rice beans and farofa around in a small town in sweden. in feijoada the beans come with pork parts, and it’s black beans, not regular beans. it is also traditionally served with kale and orange slices. it’s really good, personally i love it

[image ID: a plate with kale, rice, farofa (which is sandy-colored and has a grainy consistency), orange slices, and feijoada. end ID] 

another great dish worth a try is moqueca. moqueca is (usually) fish/shrimp, coconut milk, dendê oil, bell peppers, and other spices. it takes cilantro so if you are a little bitch, i mean, if you don’t like it, you might skip that one. it is also usually served with farofa or pirão, which is essentially farofa but moist 

[image ID: a pot of moqueca. it looks soup-like and has very vibrant colors, particularly red, yellow, ad green. you can see pieces of bell pepper and chopped cilantro in it. end ID]

i do recommend trying anything palm-heart related if you haven’t. palm heart pies are one of my favorite things. and okay i know that you probably won’t be able to find this but i doubt you’ll be able to find most things i’m talking about so i’m just gonna dream big here: catupiry is this kind of brazilian... cream cheese, except it’s creamier and tastier and just superior in general. we love putting it on shit, and when it comes to stuffing, palm heart + catupiry or chicken + catupiry are my favorites

i also love bobó de palmito na moranga, which is essentially palm heart inside very creamy squash. the most common version actually takes shrimp instead of palm heart, but i don’t like shrimp and they’re not super accessible in my city anyway lol

[image ID: a carved pumpkin with shrimp swimming in a creamy mixture of squash, coconut milk, and catupiry inside. end ID]

escondidinho is another great dish. it means “little hidden one” in portuguese and it is cassava puree with dried meat inside, gratinated. there’s also a version with mashed potatoes, ground beef, and tomato sauce, but cassava is better. honestly just go for anything cassava. it’s the basis of native brazilian culinary and it’s fucking delicious. fried cassava, roasted cassava, cassava puree.... if you’ve never had them, they’re like potatoes, but better in every way. and don’t get me wrong, cuz i love potatoes

anything from the state of minas gerais FUCKS and is highly recommendable. tutu de feijão might look bad for a gringo but i promise it’s worth a try. feijão tropeiro is amazing, and chicken with okra is one of my fave brazilian dishes. it’s also easy to make so you can make it at home, even. just don’t forego the rice beans and farofa. my eastern european friend had never seen okra so if you look it up, no, that is not pepper. it’s not spicy. seriously i know yall are afraid of everything but it’s not

as for snacks! one of the greatest institutions in brazil is coxinha. coxinha is a potato-based batter stuffed with chicken (and usually catupiry as well although coxinha without catupiry is also commonly found) and deep fried. you cannot have a kids party and not serve it, it is absolutely essential. but it is also eaten as a regular snack commonly. it is super good, everyone loves it, and i highly recommend

[image ID: a plate of coxinhas. they are round-ish thingies with a “beak” on top, making it look almost like a pyramid. they are orange-golden in color and have a distinctly deep fried texture. end ID]

another great institution is pão de queijo, which i’ll admit i’m not a fan of because i don’t like cheese (catupiry doesn’t count) but i can’t just forego mentioning it. it takes polvilho, which is tapioca (which is a derivation of cassava, i’ll get there in a minute) flour, with cheese, basically. it gets a fluffy consistency that is hard to describe and that many people love. it is most traditional in the state of minas gerais, but you can find it all over brazil and also in other places in south america although recipes vary

[image ID: a bowl of pão de queijo. they are small, round, and white-ish. they have a very thin hard-looking layer on the exterior, but it also has cracks that make you able to see that the inside is fluffy. end ID]

tapioca! you might have heard of tapioca as the bubbles in bubble tea are made of it. it is a kind of cassava flour, but it’s very different from the cassava flour used to make farofa. it is white in color. you just put that motherfucker in a frying pan (no oil needed) and the grains stick to each other, making a sort of... taco-like thing? it doesn’t taste like a taco but it looks slightly like one. then you just stuff it with Whatever You Want. can be savory or sweet, personally i prefer savory but the "classic” one is coconut and condensed milk. another good stuffing to try is what we call romeu e julieta (literally “romeo and juliet”), which is a cheese that we know as queijo minas, but if you have contact with mexican food you might know as queso fresco, and guava paste. i know it sounds weird which is why it has the name as these two things are not supposed to be together but they go WELL together. romeu e julieta is a common dessert and the basis for thousands and thousands of other recipes in brazil

[image ID: a plate with tapioca. it has the form of a taco, but the “batter” is thinner and white. the inside is coconut and condensed milk. end ID]

speaking of tapioca, DADINHO DE TAPIOCA (tapioca dice) is where shit’s at. it is tapioca flour with cheese rolled into a dice format and fried, served with pepper jam, altho you can forego it, but i DO recommend trying it with the pepper jam. it is not super spicy and so so very good. don’t waste an opportunity to try it

[image ID: dadinhos de tapioca. they are small cubic snacks with a golden color and granulated-looking texture. there is also a little bowl with pepper jam in it. end ID]

and an ESSENTIAL brazilian institution: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a flour-based batter with a bit of cachaça (sugarcane liquor) stuffed with Whatever You Want (most common tho are ground beef, and cheese. but personally i’m always a slut for palm heart and there’s a local pizza place near my home that also makes pastel with whatever flavor you could possibly want and broccoli with catupiry pastel? PEAK) and deep fried. it is kinda big for a snack but bro it is so very good. and then we usually have it with caldo de cana, which is sugarcane juice. now, caldo de cana is very sweet, so personally i like to put a little bit of lemon in it, which is how we usually make it in the state of São Paulo, but other states lowkey look down on that (brazilians as a whole have a sweet tooth, many of our desserts are Really Sweet) but they are wrong and we are right. anyway, pastel and caldo de cana are usually served at street markets, so once you are done with your groceries, you can sit down and enjoy some. highly recommended altho again i’ll be surprised if you can find any in sweden. but pastel is not hard to make! caldo de cana is tho, you have to have kind of a machine to extract the juice from it

[image ID: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a long, golden-colored, thin rectangle with, in this case, cheese inside. caldo de cana is of a brownish-green with a regular juice consistency. end ID]

onto desserts! an all-time brazilian favorite is brigadeiro. that is condensed milk, butter, and cocoa with chocolate sprinkles, essentially. i recommend using dark chocolate as it is otherwise really sweet but it depends on your tastes. do try it tho

[image ID: brigadeiros. they are little balls completely covered in chocolate sprinkles, each places in a smal paper holder. end ID]

romeu in julieta as i already mentioned is very popular and seriously, give it a try

if you’re into sweet stuff, try rapadura, which is our version of piloncillo. it is like 90% sugar tho so seriously, you gotta like sweets

pé de moleque, which literally translates to “boy’s foot”, is rapadura and roasted peanuts, and it’s one of my all time favorite desserts

[image ID: a plate of pé de moleque. they are thick rectangles with almost entire roasted peanuts parts stuck together by a rich brown sort of batter - rapadura. end ID]

paçoca is also grounded peanuts with a little bit of salt and sugar, usually coming in a cork format. they are absolutely amazing and i can’t recommend them enough

[image ID: paçoca. it literally just looks like a small cork, even the color is similar. looks like something totally underwhelming but i promise you it’s so so very good and worth a try. end ID]

and okay i think that’s what i have!! at least off the top of my head (yeah that’s just what i came up with off the top of my head. like i said. brazilian cuisine is RICH) sorry for the gigantic answer that is probably not very helpful, but welp, now you know what to look for, at least lol also if you’ve followed me for over a year you should have known i would do this. BITCH I’M LATINO FOOD MATTERS TO ME

[starship-nine]

Getting into The Dear Hunter

Alright so like this is a post that may go nowhere but I'm making new friends again and want a quick and easy way for them to know how to get into my favorite band.

So in this post I'm gonna be detailing what albums you should DEFINITELY listen to, any you should be wary of, and anything bad (spoilers; that's not on here).

First are Must Listens, as these are the ones I think show the style, influence, and musical, lyrical, and charismatic ability of the group best.

Must Listens

So the obvious answer is "All the Acts", but I'm gonna break it down a bit.

Act V: Hymns With The Devil In Confessional

Act III: Life and Death

Act IV: Rebirth in Reprise

Migrant

Act V and Act IV kind of go hand in hand as two signs of the same coin. Both have intricate, exquisite melodies, but Act IV is a lot happier sounding, whereas Act V is incredibly dark from moment one. Just compare the intro to The Old Haunt on Act IV to The Moon/Awake on Act V.

Act V is my personal favorite Dear Hunter album, and the dark tone has a lot to do with it. The album is varied, going from a large grand spooky rock number to a peaceful acoustic melody, and ending with a mob March, a funeral eulogy, and a Danny Elfman-esque ending piece.

Act IV has some beautiful tracks and works better for the emotional side of things, as it focuses on themes such as existentialism, relationships failing, and even politics and the meaning of organized religion. I'll go over highlighted tracks at the end of each section.

Act III is an album that I feel gets overlooked, even among Dear Hunter fans. The lyrical dissonance in so many of these songs is outrageous, though! The cheerful tone of tracks like Go Get Your Gun and This Beautiful Life when they're about going out and shooting the enemy, the talks of morally repugnant characters such as The Thief, who loots the bodies of dead soldiers regardless of their side, the Poison Woman who offers soldiers drinks only for those drinks to be, obvs, poison, and of course Hunter's father telling the story of how Hunter got conceived. On top of all of this some of the most memorable lyrics in the band's catalog ("Come away young man where the ground is red and you need a mask to breathe" is such a powerful intro lyric), and melodies that still show up later in the story... Don't sleep on Act III, please. It's so good.

Migrant is the only album I've listed not a part of the story, but that's not discounting the album at all; it's still got exquisite melodies, beautiful vocal harmonies, Casey's unforgettable lyrics, and some of the best rock music of the 21st century. Tracks like Whisper show the rockier side, while somber tracks like Bring You Down and the single Shouting At The Rain show us that Casey is more than capable of writing about topics beyond his 6 act story.

Recommended tracks:

Act V: The March, The Moon/Awake, Cascade, Light

Act IV: Wait, The Line, Ouroboros, The Bitter Suite VI

Act III: In Cauda Venenum, This Beautiful Life, Son/Father/Life and Death, Mustard Gas

Migrant: Whisper, The Love, Shouting At The Rain, An Escape

Further Listening

These albums are still good, but they're more for when you've gotten a good feel for the band.

The Color Spectrum

Act II: The Meaning Of And All Things Regarding Ms. Leading

Act I: The Lake South and The River North

All Is As All Should Be

As I said, no Dear Hunter album is bad. But jumping right into these ones without any prior Dear Hunter knowledge is not a good idea. Act II and Act I were very early on, and are a different beast than the newer stuff, and The Color Spectrum is a collection of different EPs all based on different influences, and as such feature no orchestral elements and is just the four band members (two guitars, a bass, and drums). All Is As All Should Be is a fantastic EP to be sure, but knowledge of the band's past work is almost necessary to understand the rather eclectic nature of it.

The Color Spectrum is a hard one, because it's 9 EPs all based on different influences. My personal favorites are Black and Red, but that's because they're based on metal and indie rock and I'm very biased. I think The Dear Hunter is better with a full orchestra, but give this a listen, see what you can find. The melodies are still here, Casey's voice is great as always, and the songs on Black really show how good of a drummer Nick Crescenzo is.

Act II was the album that made the band underground emo heroes, and while I do love it to death, the lyrics regarding the main theme of the album are a little..... immature? As they should be of course, and I still love tracks unrelated to the whole idea of love vs. Lust. This album is also catchy as all hell, and it probably won't leave your head for a week. Songs like Black Sandy Beaches, Where The Road Parts, and ESPECIALLY The Lake and The River have gorgeous compositions and melodies. You really can't go wrong with it, so long as you can excuse some higher eloquence high school dissing of your ex.

Act I was the very first album the band ever recorded, and as such it's easily the shakiest. I still love it, but Casey's dynamic range isn't quite there yet. Tracks like Battesimo Del Fuoco still hit me in the right spot, and songs like His Hands Matched His Tongue work on a level I can't quite explain, but overall this is the shakiest and the hardest for me to recommend.

All Is As All Should Be was actually cowritten by people who went to The Dear Hunter's summer camp! That's really cool. The album is a good 6 song EP, melodies all over, and some of the best lyricism in their catalog. But alongside it is the silliness of the line "Pay no mind to what the haters think, cause they're just haters". Its still good!! It's really good! But it's not my go-to recommendation album.

Recommend tracks

Color Spectrum: Filth and Squalor, This Body, We've Got A Score To Settle, A Curse of Cynicism

Act II: The Lake and The River, The Bitter Suite III: Embrace, Black Sandy Beaches, Dear Ms. Leading

Act I: 1878, Battesimo Del Fuoco, His Hands Matched His Tongue, The Inquiry of Ms. Terri

All Is As All Should Be: The Right Wrong, All Is As All Should Be, Witness Me, Beyond The Pale

Well that's all I got. Sorry for the long post, but I just really love this band.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother dragon (9); WInchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well I’ve had this done for a couple of days but I wanted to fix some things up that caught my attention but to those fans who have been waiting long and hard for this next part, I hereby present to you the long awaited chapter 9 of Mother Dragon. So here we get some intense drama happening here so proceed with caution.

And I know I may get some comments (or not) about Warren’s character being an asshole after this chapter but ALL WILL BE EXPLAINED IN THE NEXT CHAP. I don’t wanna give to much away cause that would be spoiling it but I hope you all enjoy this chapter until I finish up chap.10. Now I’m not sure how many more parts there will be but I can tell you we are now at the halfway point of this story. I’m glad to see people still enjoying this and new people coming in to reading this book, I can’t tell you how much it means to me. Thank you all, don’t forget to reblog, like and comment.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@plethora-of-things

@onebigfangirlworld

@waddles03

@deanscroissant

________________________________________________________

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Stephen’s roar I groaned tiredly but that’s when I remembered.

“Shit dragon school whoa ahh!” I soon ended up falling out of Deacy’s bed and ended up tangled in his red satin bedsheets. “Hey! Hey let go of me get me out of here!” I struggled to get out of the sheets which took me like five minutes.

As fast as I could, I began putting on my armor and once I was sure I got everything on and buckled I was about to take off flying when I heard a knock at the door.

“Shit.” I muttered quietly. “Who is it?”

“Hey (n/n) can we talk?” Oh shit, it was Dean.

“Uhh…..can we talk about it later?”

“No kid actually this needs to be said now, come on open the door. Sammy, Cas and I are all out here and we need to head somewhere where there aren’t any dragons to spy on us. Can you please open the door?”

“I can’t because I’m in the tub right now.” I then opened my wings and immediately took off flying towards the exit.  “Whoa! Okay little turbulence, okay just slow and steady. That’s it (y/n) just let instincts take over and just fly.” I flew through the maze like entrance until I finally reached the exit.

“Seems our latest addition finally decided to arrive.” Deacy teased.  I landed and brought my wings back into the suit and lifted my helmet up.

“Haha very funny.” I mocked back.

“Right. Now that everyone is present and accounted for, I’d say it’s time we all fly out to our current location for our first lesson.” Everyone then phased into their dragon forms and Stephen led the class of about 20 little dragons onward while Deacy stayed behind and allowed me to get on his back.

“Sorry I was late, Dean, Sam and Cas were trying to talk to me before I left, couldn’t risk them finding the suit.” He nodded in understandment before he took off following Stephen.

We soon arrived at a clearing out into the woods, now phasing back to human form the dragons all landed.  When Deacy phased into human form, I immediately jumped off of him and opened my wings for a safe landing and he landed beside me.

“Alright young ones. Next to flying, hunting is the key to our survival. Back when I was a dragonling, the world was much different than it is today. Less technology and less suspicious, curious humans. We were once free to hunt but now with the rising numbers the human race, we risk our existence being exposed to predators such as trappers and hunters. Who can tell me the three laws of hunting?” There was silence until a young girl around 10 years old with long sandy blonde hair spoke up.

“No dragon shall ever hunt on human grounds. Stick to the forests or deep in the sea.”

“Well done Chrissie, who can tell me the second law?”

“No dragon shall hunt human animals. Above all the cattle which is sacred to them.”

“Nicely put Adam. Third law, and the most important one of all.”

“Never make man a meal. Especially the virgin women. For taking humans only brings up more humans.” All the children soon choired out in unison.

“Excellent. Now when it comes to hunting, the first thing you need to remember is that while it is our right to hunt for survival. We must never do it for sport. It is important to know that when you hunt with our Alpha, he always calls the shots. Whatever he says goes. If he says a dragon is to start the stalk on the ground, you go on the ground. If you are the eye in the sky, you fly high so that the prey doesn’t see you but you see the prey.”

“But why must we hunt from the ground when we have our wings?” asked a young Asian dragon.

“Well Shang that’s because in order to take prey from the ground, you must first tire it out. It never suspects a dragon to chase it from the ground. A good chase helps the seeker tell the other dragons where the prey is going. If all of us hunted from the air, we lose the prey much quicker in the trees and brush.”

“Today you kids will be learning just that. We’re going to set you off into small groups and your job is to assign a chaser, a seeker and finally the ambusher. The ambusher’s role in the hunt is when the prey is finally within reach, you must strike out and take it down. All members must work together as a single unit. No one must outshine the others.” Deacon said.

“Deacon and I have assigned the roles for each of you and have already decided on who is to be what in this team hunt. In total we shall have seven teams of three since there are now 21 in this class level, so here are your teammates.” After a few minutes everyone of us was assigned a team.

I was partnered with two female dragons Astrid and Rose.  I was to be the ambusher, Rose was the ground chaser and Astrid was the eye in the sky.

“Now it’s not about who catches the biggest prey or who comes first in the hunt. The object is to work together as a single unit. You all have your assigned roles and areas of your hunting ground, now hunt!” Rose, Astrid and I ran westward then went north until they finally caught wind of something.

It was a hare.

“Hare, 10 o’ clock.” I whispered.

“10 o clock?” questioned Astrid confused.

“It’s just an expression, just look that way.” The girls turned and they soon saw the hare feasting on some grass.

“Okay I’ll take to the skies, call out patterns and turns.” Astrid whispered as she turned into her silver dragon form and took off flying with probably the quietest flaps I had ever heard coming from a dragon’s wings.  

“I’ll head on ahead. Think you can handle the chase Rose?” I asked her.  But she looked a little scared, her hands were wringing themselves and it looked like she had tears in her eyes.  “Hey Rose, you okay?”

“I’ve never been able to pass this test. I always fail Master Stephen and Alpha. I—I can’t do this. Why can’t we hunt grass or berries?” I looked at her empathically and said.

“You want to be friends with that hare, don’t you?” she looked up at me and nodded.

“It’s sad the way we must kill animals. They’re real nice and they never did anything to us.” I sighed and said.

“I know. Believe me it was hard the first time I ever had to kill a live animal. But take it from me Rose. As hard as it is, hunting is the difference between living and dying. If I didn’t do what I had to, I wouldn’t be alive today. And neither would your Alpha. You’d all still be living in fear had he died at a young age from hunger. I know it’s cruel but it’s what’ll help the nest. For your future little ones you may have. And it’s like Stephen said, you all do it for survival and I wish it were like that for all living creatures that hunt. Including us humans but sadly some of us have forgotten that law.”

“My mama says that humans kill for sport. That some of you have animals as trophies, or clothes. Is that true?”

“Sadly it is. For many humans they do hunt for sport. But some of us aren’t like that. Like me for example. I never killed a bunny back home if I knew it wasn’t going to be for a good reason either for myself or for your Alpha. Yeah it was tough the first several times. Believe me my first time I cried for over a week and thought about never eating meat again. But fruits and berries can last you so long. In the end I needed more protein otherwise I wouldn’t last. And I didn’t want to die.”

I cupped the side of her face and said.

“I know it’s scary but I know you can do this. All you have to do is just lead it towards me. Let me take care of the rest, okay?” She nodded and said.

“Thank you mama dragon.”

“You got this sweetie. I believe in you Rose.” I ruffled her hair gently then kept my eyes on the hare as I stalked around it, making sure to hide in the thick bush downwind of its sense of smell.

Rose slowly stalked towards the hare in her dragon form and soon the hunt began.  The hare quickly took off running through bushes and logs but Rose was right on him, from the air I could see Astrid flying out and calling out to Rose in dragon tongue calling out patterns in order to lead the hare straight towards me.

I got into position and could hear twigs snapping and heavy footsteps.  I waited, and waited and waited until the hare jumped in my line of vision and I grabbed hold of it and pinned it down by it’s back so that I could quickly tie up it’s legs.  Rose slide up to me panting and Astrid came down to see if I had caught it.

“Well done girls, you did amazing.” I placed my hand on each of their heads giving them a proud stroke as they purred and nuzzled against my hand.  Rose especially was happy as she nuzzled further up my arm and she licked my face and just stared at me with those dragon amber eyes of hers. “You’re welcome Rose, alright c’mon let’s show your alpha and teacher what we managed to catch.” We then headed back to where Deacy and Stephen were waiting for all the young ones to come back with their game.

All the young dragons got a different variety of things from birds, to rabbits and foxes and some caught bigger game like small deer.

“Well done young ones, I see some potential future hunters for our nest. Keep this up and soon you’ll be joining your Alpha and I on the real hunts.” The young dragons all cheered and it was then Deacy said.

“Alright I think that’s enough for today, back to the den. No wondering off now.” It was then we watched as all the young dragons flew off.  “Mum, that includes you.”

“Got important Alpha things to talk about?” I asked. He nodded. “Very well I’ll leave you boys to talk. Besides I better make sure Sam, Dean and Cas aren’t too suspicious. I’ll see you guys later.” I then took off running off back towards the den.

*3rd Person POV*

As soon as (y/n) was out of range, Stephen said to Deacy.

“I got an update from Warren sometime last night.”

“And?”

“It’s here. He lost track of it at around dawn so it could be anywhere now.”

“Any what of Percy? Was he with it?”

“As far as he knew, no. Let’s up it’s just that monstrosity and nothing else.”

“We can’t take any risk. Even if it’s just one of them, I want it killed before it can report back to him. No one is to leave the den until this thing is caught and destroyed.”

“What of your mum? And the brothers?” Deacy hated to even think of doing this but he had to protect his mother.

“Even them. If they try to leave, stop them at all cost. I refuse to lose another mother.”

“Understood Alpha.” Stephen then took off flying in dragon form and Deacy turned to look up at the sky before spreading out his wings and flying high into the sky.

*My POV*

As I finally reached the den, I suddenly heard a voice I hoped that I wouldn’t hear say.

“What the hell is this!?” I was shocked to see Dean, Sam and Cas all standing outside all with their arms crossed over their chests and looking at me with disapproving looks.

“Hey guys well look who finally came out of the den. Seriously never did I think you guys would come out here for some air.”

“Don’t play dumb (l/n), what the hell’s all this? What are you wearing cause last I checked we’re miles from Comic Con.” Dean snarled.

“What oh this old thing? Latest fashion statement here in Britain didn’t you know?”

“You’re lying to us (y/n), now give us the truth.” Sam demanded.

“What do you guys care, so I made a suit so what? It never harmed anyone?” It was then Dean came up to me and forcefully pulled on my wing string which caused my wings to spring out. “Dean what the hell? I thought you were taught to never forcefully put your hands on someone!?”

“Not when someone is pretending to be something they’re not. So all this time, the sneaking out, the early morning patrols with your son? You were being one of them?”

“So what if I was?” I bluntly said as I took my wings back in. “Did it ever occur to you boys that when you found me I might’ve had a second agenda in mind?”

“So you were just using us?” asked Sam.

“I was being a mother! You guys will never understand the bond between a parent and their child!”

“We do know one thing. We know the bond between family. We took you in, we protected you, and this is how you repay us back?! Okay that’s it we’re out of here.” Dean forcefully grabbed my arm and dragged me towards Sam and Cas. “Cas get us home.”

“Dean stop it let me go! Let go of me!”

“No one is going anywhere!” Soon slamming down on the ground with green wings spread out was Deacon.  “You four are to stay here.”

“And look whose come? The beast who gave (y/n) Stockholm Syndrome.” Dean fake praised. “The all mighty Alpha dragon.”

“Let go of my mother Dean.” Deacy lowly growled.

“That a threat?”

“Not a threat, a promise.” Deacon’s eyes phased into dragon slits as I could hear the low thunder growls rise up in his throat.  

Dean forcefully let me go but before I could stop him, Sam stopped me holding me back and I watched as Dean walked straight up to Deacy and he said.

“You really are a mama’s boy aren’t you? Well news flash in my book humans don’t take in monsters. She’s done with you. And if you come back for her, I will end you.” Dean punched Deacy across the face sending him down to the ground.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” I roared at Dean as I struggled to get out of Sam’s grip.  Deacy looked up Dean and said as he got up.

“Yeah, and how you gonna do that hunter?” Deacy then sent a hard right hook across Dean’s face and at that punch I heard thunder rumble and lightning flashed across the sky.  Dean looked back towards my son with blood dripping at the corner of his mouth.

He wiped it away as Deacon continued.

“I know all about Dean Winchester, I know exactly where you have been. The hunter to be pulled from hell, and now the one place that’s even worse than hell. Purgatory. The hell for all monsters. I’ve seen the bloodlust in your eyes, and that only comes from those whose had to fight for their survival. Well if you want a challenge then you’ve got one.”

The two of them charged at each other trying to outweigh the other like two titans battling it out.  But then Dean had to cheat as he kicked Deacy’s leg in sending him down to the ground and I heard the cocking sound of a gun.  In his hand Dean held his gun and my son looked up to see the barrel of it staring him right in the face. He chuckled icily and mocked.

“You know that thing won’t kill me right? You’d just be wasting bullets.”

“Yeah but I’ve had an itch to shoot you since I met you. Plus we’ll see how many bullets it takes to slow a dragon down. Maybe even bleed you out?”

“You could try that. But one shot of that gun and the entire nest will know who fired that gun. They know the sounds of a hunter’s weapon. And once they see the blood on me, they will reign hellfire down upon you. And dragon fire is worse than what you experienced in hell.”

Dean took aim, slowly his finger pulled on the trigger and soon a shot was heard.

Dean Winchester had been knocked to the ground and when he quickly grabbed his gun to fire once more at Deacy since he had missed the first shot, but standing in front of his target was none other than me.

Yeah.  I had knocked Sam out and tackled Dean before he could shoot my son and now here I was standing protectively in front of my boy and a hunter.

“Mum, stay out of this.” I heard my son say.

“No! Not this time. If he’s got the balls to shoot my son, then surely he’s got the balls to shoot his mother.” I glared right at Dean and continued, “I knew you changed the second you came back from Purgatory. You’re full of bloodlust, you never ask questions, and you’re always on edge. I’ve warned you multiple times what would happen should you harm my son. So come on, you’re a hunter. A Winchester no less. If you really think I’m a monster,” I walked right up to him, took the gun and positioned it right to my forehead and sneered, “Then treat me like one.”

Silence rang through the air and I saw a slight flicker in Dean’s soulless eyes, but he still didn’t drop the gun even as I held my arms out ready for him to shoot me.

“C’mon Winchester.” I mocked.

“Dean….put the gun down.” Sam tried to reason as I saw from the corner of my eyes he and Cas slowly walking towards us. After a moment of silence and Dean still keeping his dagger-like eyes locked right on me, Cas now spoke up.

“If you pull that trigger, you will unleash something far worse than anything you’ve seen. Deacon, Stephen, Apophis, every single dragon will kill you!”

“Not if I kill them first.” Dean argued arrogantly.

“No you won’t! Dean…..I know what you’ve been through back in Purgatory, trust me I was there with you. But if you cross this line, all that’s happened to you will seem like a walk in the park. Trust me. You can’t comprehend how deep a dragon’s loyalty goes. So don’t test him!” Cas argued back.

All was tense and quiet. I could just feel the fear from Cas and Sam, the anger from my son and the rage Dean was emitting.

“Dean! You’re better than this.” Sam reasoned one last time.  For a split second I thought Dean would shoot me right then and there but then something else happened.

A loud roar echoed throughout the forest.  If I had to put it into words, it almost sounded like the raptors from Jurassic Park.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

“Get inside.” Deacy demanded.  “Now all of you inside!”

“Deacon hold on what is that?” asked Sam.

“Just get inside!” Suddenly out of nowhere a dragon suddenly appeared, but it was completely different than any dragon I had ever seen.

It looked like a crossover of a dragon, scorpion and spider.  It’s tail was what got my attention as there was a large piercing stinger at the end of it, it had two tusks on it’s mouth like a warthog and had six legs, the front legs resembled pincers and the other four were more like dragon legs and feet.

“Run!” Deacon soon phased into his dragon form and grabbed hold of me and put me on his back as well as grabbed the boys and we flew towards the den with the dragon chasing after us.

“Uhh Deacon shouldn’t you be fighting back?” Sam cried out.

“Look out!” I ducked his head in as the dragon shot out something I never thought a dragon could breath out. Acid.  Green and yellow acid.  I watched in shock as it melted the rocks like it was nothing.

“Does that answer your question Sammy?” I cried out. We soon reached the main sanctuary but as soon as the rest of the Deacy’s nest saw the dragon enter, they all flew high up to their sleeping dens away from the dragon.

As Deacy flew towards his, the dragon was right on his tail ready to fire again but he suddenly stopped as he was now thrown backwards.  Standing between the dragon and Deacy was none other than Warren.  As we all got off of Deacy’s back, I looked over just to see what all was happening.

Warren stood before this dragon and roared menacingly at him and the two circled each other.  Even though Warren had a great size advantage over this dragon I was not expecting what was to come.

The dragon leapt itself at Warren, attaching itself to his face and horrifyingly managed to bring the giant colossal dragon down to the ground off of his feet.

I could hear all the other dragons whimpering and roaring in fear as Warren was taken down by this tiny bug-like dragon compared to him.  Using his whip like tail, he at least managed to pull the dragon off of him but before he could unleash a raging fireball at this dragon, I saw some sort of spit shot right at Warren’s eyes and he roared in pain as the dragon quickly got onto his back.

Using it’s barbed like tail like a scorpion, it pierced through Warren’s neck causing him to roar before finally collapsing on the ground forcing himself to transform back to his human form.  The dragon roared and circled Warren, all the while stomping on the ground with its pincher-like front legs sounding like it was gloating.

Why couldn’t he hear it? If his sight was blinded then his ears should be able to hear him? Why wasn’t he hearing it, it was clearly wanting him to fight him back.

Okay that’s it. I placed my helmet over my face and activated my wings and took off flying all the while hearing Deacy and the guys trying to stop me.

*3rd Person POV*

As Warren lied there helplessly, his vision now blurry thanks to the dragon’s special venom and from the paralysis poison coursing through his veins, the dragon then launched another attack ready to end Warren’s life with a single bite to tear him in half while he was still in this form.

But what the dragon didn’t expect was another roar to be hear, but it was unlike any roar it heard, especially as it felt itself being kicked in the forehead and tossed aside like trash away from its kill. As it got back on it’s legs and snarled, there stood (y/n).

Her wings spread and she now activated her special ‘dragon claws’ that she herself had forged while working at a case at an old steel mill.  She stood protectively in front of Warren, even though he had threatened her no one deserves to be taken down by a cheater.

From above all the dragon seeing the Mother Dragon down below about to go face to face with this dragon all roared and cried out for her to kill it.  All but Castiel, Sam, Dean and especially Deacy who was fearful that he’d lose yet another mother, and this time in the most gruesome way possible.

Then it began.  The dragon launched itself at (y/n) but she leapt over the dragon easily but it quickly came back at her a second time but she managed to jump over it and land perfectly on the tree and thanks to her claws, she got a pretty good height as she hung there for a bit.

However the dragon didn’t just fly up to her, no that was too easy.  This dragon was just a fast a flyer as it was a walker as it now crawled up towards (y/n) roaring and snarling at her, chasing her up further and further into the tree.

Clawing and spitting acid toward her, (y/n) somehow managed to dodge it’s perfect aim running across the branch until she was forced to open her wings once more and take flight towards another tree branch.

She waited as the entire sanctuary was silent. Looking at every corner she could to try and see if she could spot the red and black dragon anywhere but there was no sign of it.  That was until suddenly it somehow got above her and was ready to take her down, but then revealing a hidden knife underneath her wrist, she managed to stab the dragon’s wing which caused it to go off balance and roll down 10 feet to the ground.  The dragons above her roaring and cheering.

It wasn’t until the dragon opened it’s wing to not only reveal that she had actually managed to stab it, but she gave it a pretty good cut in it as well, at least 3-4 inches of an opening on it’s wing. And everyone knows that if a dragon’s wing is damaged, it can’t fly.

Angered by the fact that someone had actually managed to hurt it, it let out a hiss towards (y/n).  Showing the dragon her knife, she hissed back before jumping right to the ground as the dragon circled around her lowly growling and using its second pair of claws to tab the ground as a distraction.

Then quick as a whip, it used its tail to try and stab her with it’s piercing stinger filled with venom but that was only a distraction as the dragon suddenly now stood before her and used it’s pincer like front claw to push her aside which actually knocked her into a boulder.  She let out a cry and all the dragons above went silent with worry as they saw the Mother Dragon go down.

With her vision blurry she saw the dragon crawl up to her before finally pinning her down using its tusks, its hot breath dancing across her face and it’s tongue sneaking out to have a taste of her before ending her life.

That was until it felt a shot to its side and there stood Dean Winchester.

“Hey spider dragon! Back away from my sister!” The dragon hissed and charged after Dean and he kept firing shot after shot before reaching for his machete and managed the scar the dragon across its eye making it rear back and roar in pain before hissing down at Dean.  It knocked the machete out of his hand right and into the lake using its tail and pinned the eldest Winchester down.  

Just before Dean found himself to be melted into acid, (y/n) who now regained consciousness mounted the dragon and pulled it by its horns trying to redirect its attention to her now.

The dragon now pissed off that someone was now on it, tried to buck and shake her off of it but she kept a strong hold on his horns.  That was until she tried to lead it towards the thicket of trees where the young dragons would use as a type of ‘dragon jungle gym.’  Only this was much tighter and older dragons wouldn’t be able to fit in it.

Once she was close enough, she took a leap of faith and managed to grab onto one of the branches and pull herself inside and bury herself into the jungle gym.  But the dragon was right above her as it used it’s tail, pinchers and acid spit to try and reach her, roaring and snarling along the way.

She buried herself deeper and deeper into the thicket gym as the needle and acid just barely reached her.  It was then she saw an opening wide enough for her to get out to the lake and go and find Dean’s machete.  But the dragon roared at her giving her a jump scare forcing her to yelp and go backwards into the thicket.

Arms came down from above trying to reach in and pull her out, it was then she saw a stone just lying inside, probably left there by one of the younger dragons.  She quickly grabbed it and shoved it through the hole where the dragon’s second left arm was.  It let out a roar as it tried to pull itself out then tried to lash out with its pincers as she managed to escape out of the thicket and run towards the lake.

But with its leg still trapped, it couldn’t do anything so it did the only thing it could do.  Using its own acid on itself, it fired its own leg which easily disintegrated it instantly before finally taking off running towards (y/n).  

She quickly jumped in but before she could dive down, the dragon leapt over her and tackled her sending both her and it down the dark blue water.

All was quiet as the dragons watched with horror and shock as the water rippled before going still.  Deacy, Sam and Cas watched from their perch in shock and horror while Dean raced up towards the water.

“(Y/n)? (N/n)!” But there was no answer.  He was terrified to think that (y/n) was dead and the last thing she’ll ever remember him by would be pointing a gun at her. Even though he did try to save her, he never got the chance to apologize and he doubt he ever would.

The water soon turned red and everyone feared the worse that it was human blood but with the water so dark and murky they couldn’t tell whose blood it was.

That was until (y/n) broke surface like Ariel gasping and coughing out water.

*My POV*

Somehow I managed to find Dean’s machete at the bottom of the lagoon and then just as the dragon came at me, I swam up and stabbed it right through the eye.  I made sure to twist the knife in to be sure that it would stay dead and next thing I knew, I just collapsed to the sea floor.  

As I was running out of air, I quickly swam back to the surface of the water as well as the blood and let out a huge gasp and coughed harshly while panting for air.

I then swam back towards the edge and just before I pulled myself up, I saw Dean’s hand reach out in front of me.  I took it and he helped me up then immediately embraced me.  I could tell by the look in his eyes and just the strength of his embrace that he was trying to apologize but knew he couldn’t find the right words.

So I leaned against him and hugged him back as well as patted him telling him that I forgave him.  It was then I finally heard all around me the dragons roaring in victory.  Dean and I separated and looked up to see them all out of their dens, their wings extended and some breathing out fire.

I then stood up and walked outward looking down at the machete in my hand.  The blade dripping with both water and blood and just like a true warrior, I raised it in the air and I let out my best battle cry that could compare to a dragon’s roar.

They all soon came flying down and surrounded both Dean and I thanking us for killing that dragon.  But I especially was nudged on top of Apophis’ dragon head and raised up high into the air and the dragons continued to roar.

But it was then I noticed Warren who looked at me disappointingly before sulking away out of the den.

After the fight; Deacy refused to leave my side as he now had me between his front dragon legs and proceeded to lick me, healing me of any wounds.  But after a while he just wouldn’t let up.

“Alright Deacy. Deacy. Deacy stop! Okay, okay I think you’ve got all the wounds cleaned off now.” I tried to get out of his grip but he blocked my path before slowly scooting his hand over toward me forcing me to go back towards him. “Deacon seriously I’m fine now!” He huffed and grumbled at me. “Don’t take the tone with me mister man!”

He grumbled and nuzzled his nose against my stomach and lowly grumbled.  It was then I began to slowly understand what he was trying to say.

“Hey, I’m still alive aren’t I?” He looked at me and nudged closer to me before phasing into his human state and he said.

“Yeah, I just—” but he was interrupted as Stephen now came in and he said.

“Oh sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes you were.” Deacy sneered.

“Deacy don’t go off on him. What is it Stephen? Is—is Warren alright?”

“Yes he’ll be fine. Kisara and I managed to help give him his sight back and drain the venom out of his system. But that’s not why I’m here. I need to ask you (y/n).” I looked at him confused.  He came up towards us and he asked me, “Tell me how long have you been exposed to dragon saliva?”

“What are you saying?” Deacy asked.

“Please I—I just need to know.”

“Well, I mean it was after that shapeshifter attack when I was 13. Then after that it was only on severe wounds.”

“Which happened at least four times a month.” Deacy piped in.

“No it was more like twice a month.”

“Mum get real.”

“Okay well that was for 3 years till we were separated, until last week when we reunited. And of course all the other times you’ve licked me since then.” He came up to me and held out his arm saying.

“May I?” I held out my hand but he gently grasped my forearm with his left while his right hand hovered over the underside of it. His fingers softly and gingerly stroking my skin as suddenly my veins began to glow and light up which freaked me out for a brief second but I calmed down when I didn’t feel anything.

His palm turned up and soon a spirit visual of my body came up and some sort of blue light was coursing throughout my body.

“Just as I thought. But—never did I imagine I’d actually get to see it with my own eyes.” He muttered as he looked directly at me before cupping my face.

“What are you getting at Stephen?”

“Deacon, your mother—is enhanced.”  The two of us looked at each other in shock.

“Wait so—you….you mean I’m basically a dragon?” I asked bewildered.

“To a degree. There is rumor that if one is exposed to dragon saliva for a certain amount of time, then the host can gain enhanced abilities. Answer this for me (y/n), on any of your hunts either with Deacy or the brothers, have you ever done things that not even they could do?” I began to think long and hard and turns out now it all made sense.

The time we were on a Vampire hunt in Omaha, I was able to jump from roof to roof in order to catch a vamp who tried to kill a young teenage girl.

Another case was when we were hunting a pack of werewolves and we were captured and I was tied to a chair, I was basically able to literally perform a Natasha and break free and take down the werewolves before killing them.  

And of course there’s all the training days when I was able to take down both brothers as well as Castiel.  And I could just go on and on about several other situations.

“Yeah on numerous occasions.” I replied.

“It would seem you’ve been enhanced with great strength, speed and agility that only us dragons are known to have. Because that fight was unlike anything I had ever seen humans do, even the best of them have stumbled but you….you were a different story.”  I let all this information sink in and just couldn’t believe my mind.

“So…..does this mean I’m immortal as well?”

“Unfortunately no. Dragon saliva can heal as well as enhance but it cannot grant you immortality. Dragons aren’t made, they’re born. That’s the way it’s always been and always will be I’m afraid.” Stephen answered.

“Well it was worth a shot.” I said as I stroked my son’s cheek and he leaned into my hand. “Where is Warren? I—I’d like to apologize to him. I mean I did kinda steal his thunder and he looked disappointed after I won that fight.”  The two of them looked at each other and Deacy said.

“Mum, I think it’s best you leave Warren to one of us.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I should be able to defend myself and let him know I didn’t mean to offend him in anyway.”

“Trust us mum, you wouldn’t want to see him when he’s in his moods. We’ll speak for you, just please don’t go anywhere near him, okay?” Deacy’s eyes were serious as he spoke this and he needed me to swear that I wouldn’t do what he think I’d do.

“Okay, I promise.”

“Thank you.” He spoke softly as he kissed my forehead and embraced me.

*3rd Person POV*

Later that night just outside of the den, Warren was lying up against a tree trying to come to terms with what had just happened to him earlier this afternoon. Stephen who agreed with Deacy went out to find the stubborn dragon and talk some sense into him and speak for the Mother Dragon.

Even through the light of the half moon, he could see that his friend and brother was still upset, humiliated and disappointed.

“Warren?” Stephen spoke up softly.  Warren with his arms crossed over his chest didn’t look down at the half breed and continued to mope. “I know it was hard for you today. Back with the acid spitter, but surely it’s not worth all this self-pitying about. Please Warren, she saved your life even after all that you’ve threatened her with.”  Having enough of hearing about this ‘Mother Dragon’ bullshit, Warren stood up and growled.

“You. Allowing her to get involved with our war.” Stephen smelling the air knew what was coming towards him.  Warren’s eyes turned from blue to dragon slit in a split second as he finished his statement, “traitorous half breed rat!”

From the den; Kisara was actually the first to hear the sound of a fight happening.  She lifted her head from her mate’s neck and took off flying towards the entrance and she was greeted with a horrifying sight.

She saw her two brothers fighting it out. Both in their dragon forms with Warren gripping onto Stephen’s tail trying to rip it off of him.  He slammed the four winged dragon down and continued with his attack and of course Stephen tried to fight back.

She roared out and flew towards the two dragons hoping to break up the fight. She finally landed in front of them and tried to bite Warren’s neck trying to pull him off, using her wings tapping him to stand down.  But due to her size compared to Warren it did absolutely nothing. Then something horrifying happened.

Warren turned on Kisara blindly and there ended up being a long, bloody scar that ran from her chest to her lower abdomen, right where the eggs still were.  When he finally calmed down to see it was Kisara that he had attacked, he knew that he had screwed up big time.

Along with harming the Alpha’s parents, it was taboo to do harm to a dragon’s pregnant mate.  

Stephen quickly came up to her and nuzzled her head as she whimpered. Warren phased back into his human form with a look of horror and guilt on his face. Next thing he knew, he was pinned against a tree by the throat by none other than Apophis who was seething with anger.

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? YOU COULD’VE KILLED HER!! OUR FIRST LITTER OF CHILDREN YOU COWARD!!!”

“Apophis!” They turned around to soon see not only Deacon but (y/n), Castiel and the Winchester brothers as well as some of the other dragons who had heard the commotion.  As much as Apophis wanted to kill Warren for attacking his pregnant mate and threatening the life of his future little ones and he had the right to do that, but his Alpha refused to let him have it.

After what felt like forever, he finally released Warren and raced up to Kisara frantic with worry.

“Kisara? Kisara love I’m here. I’m right here darling.” He stroked her muzzle and she looked up at her mate with pained eyes as she lifted her head and placed it across Apophis’ lap whimpering in pain as he continued to stroke her, placing his head against hers.

Ashamed of himself, Warren took off flying trying to get away from everyone because this time he knew there was no coming back from this.  He knew he’d be exiled for this because he broke a sacred dragon law against a pregnant female.  

And one that had shown him nothing but kindness and love, he never meant to hurt her, he never would hurt Kisara.

But he did.  And he would forever be ashamed of what he did.

[high5nerd]

Alone Together---Chap. Nineteen

A second reminder that this fic is 100% abandoned, apologies in advance if that puts a downer on my fellow Pitch Black fans.

Sadie was the only source besides calendars that told me that time had passed. Not only would she vocally shout all over the house what holiday it was or what special occassion was going to happen, but the little girl at age ten overtime turned fourteen.

And boy what a brat she can be.

She gave me that sigh with the roll of the eyes teenage girls do. Alice thought it was hysterical but me? I just wanted to smack it off of her! Giving me attitude, why, if I gave my parents attitude I'd be spanked with a paddle or hit with the back of my mother's hand.

But other than her attitude I can understand where she's coming from. She's wanting more independence, she's growing up.

Why does that remind me of Jack Frost? Ugh…

Luckily her age hadn't deterred her belief in me, because she told me straight up one Sunday afternoon, "It's a known fact you're real. Why wouldn't I believe in you?"

Sadie still retained that childlike demeanor, however. White was still her favorite color, she got excited over the smallest positive thing, she still begged for things like she did when she was ten, and once or twice I'd catch her playing with the mirror by making faces to it. To the point where it was actually sort of amusing.

...Don't tell Alice Sadie and I both were making faces in the mirror. It was raining outside and we were bored.

Sadie had grown into a smart young lady, and unlike Alice where patience was her center, Sadie...was a nutcase. Okay, that's putting it harshly. Her center clearly revolved around passion. I'm not meaning the romantic type, I mean passion for things like freedom and equality and justice.

One night after a snowstorm, a few weeks into January, Alice and I were in her room-don't think too hard on that-and Sadie was in the living room watching television. Out of nowhere, she started screaming in fury, "Damn right you're sent to prison! For corrupting your fellow politicians and bringing your town to shame, you asshole! Go to jail so some big guy with an ugly tattoo will make you his bitch!"

Alice looked at me with narrow eyes and folded her arms after Sadie's rant, "Now. Where did she learn that language?"

"The school bus." My response was a little too quick.

I think Sadie has heard me drop a few phrases of curses here and there. Bitch is her favorite word. Alice heard her swearing up a storm once she actually slapped the back of her head with a magazine and told her if she didn't stop she'll kick her outside until dusk.

Having a teenager around certainly was different than a child, despite keeping some childish traits. Sadie no longer was short and no longer had those cheeks with baby fat. She was slender, almost like Alice but not exactly her height yet. Sadie let her hair grow all the way down her back, preferring to have it in one long braid or just loose. She grew an interest in what's called...boho? No. Bohemian? I can't recall, but her choice of apparel was very grunge and artist like, and she loved clothings from different cultures, like Nepal and India.

Tooth would like her for her interest and passion in other cultures. Sadie would grow up to be a fine worker of international relations and activist. But so far Sadie's only interest is her family, friends, and her art and history classes at school. Good thing she's keen on her studies. As long as I'm around, no student's going to be slacking off in my presence.

Sure enough, Sadie's birthday would be rolling around and she'll be turning fifteen, and older and older she'll get along with Alice.

That scared me to death, knowing that they're aging and I'm not. What will I become when they're in their sixties? Just...just a memory? A daydream that they wish was still around? Even if I was I would feel so guilty for not doing something. It's not like I could give them immortality.

Or maybe...or maybe I can!

I was walking through the woods when I was deep in thought, waiting for the girls to come home from a party. I physically stopped at the idea.

"That's it! That's exactly what I could do! I could go to one of the older spirits and beg for them to become immortal! They'd have to agree to that!" I almost jumped in a circle with excitement and started gloating to myself, "Oh, you've done it now, Pitch! Wait until they hear this plan, it's brilliant!"

"Not so brilliant, I'm afraid."

...That better not be who I think it is.

Sure enough, it was. Jack Frost. Jack...Fucking...Frost. Whoop dee doo. I rolled my eyes as I saw him lying on his back on a tree branch, freezing autumn leaves solid with his toes.

Now it's time to take my leave.

Just as I was about to head out of the forest and to the house again, I heard Jack call, "Wait, Pitch!"

"What?!" I turned to snarl at him.

He wasn't phased by my bite. He looked awkward with his shepherd's crook behind his back as he walked towards my place. He looked pitiful. What an idiot.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in on your thoughts." he tried holding out his hand, but I hid mine behind my back. No way am I touching him. No.

"Why are you even here? Spying on me…" I grumbled, looking away.

Jack sighed and switched his grip to his left hand with the wooden staff, kicking up leaves as we walked towards the house. I really didn't want him following me. I'd rather have Sandy around griping at me than this mixed bag of nuts.

"Well, I wanted to see what you do on a daily basis with Alice and Sadie. Since Jamie's all grown up and goodness knows where, I thought I'd observe how you-"

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa!" I stopped him, staring at him in horror, "Who told you?! My business with the girls was only known between me and…"

Jack grinned, liking the look on my face that went from confusion to absolute anger. I growled and looked up at the sky, "That little dust bin is dead."

"Pitch, it's okay," Jack hopped into the sky and flew in front of me as I started storming forward, "He explained everything. I mean it, everything. Sure, North wasn't too pleased and Bunny was pretty pissed, but I get it."

I looked at him oddly, "You...you do?"

Now I know Jack Frost. I think you know I know Jack Frost. He's my enemy, of course, and nothing would change that. Yes, I was very skeptical and very guarded by his odd sense of kindness he was showing me. I thought any second he'd whip out a snowball and pelt me, or make some snide comment about my defeat and then take off before I could break his spine in half. I knew he was capable of immense power if he summed up enough of it, I knew he makes a mess wherever he goes, I knew he was trouble, a mischief maker, and adores children.

But I didn't know he'd side with me on the fight Sandy and I had.

"Sure," he shrugged, "Granted, you're a lying, slimy asshat and I could never forgive you for nearly destroying us," that made me cringe, but he continued, "But I understood where you were coming from when you stood up to Sandy."

"Really." I asked doubtfully, giving him a suspicious eye.

He held up his hands honestly, "Really. There are times I wish I had connections like you have with them. I get it, caring about family. You love them. It's not that hard to understand."

I must've given some sort of look that I still wasn't trusting him, that he could freeze me any second because he sighed in defeat and dropped back down to the ground, putting his hands in his hoodie.

"I suck at apologies, alright? I'm not going to say it. But because you've helped us gain some belief by Alice...well, we're neutral. Ish."

I scoffed, folding my arms. "Fine. I only did it for Alice, not for you."

"And Sadie." Jack grinned widely.

That made me smirk. "Yes, and Sadie."

"Hey, speaking of Sadie, how's she doing? Sandy's missed her a lot. He's changed these past couple of years."

I folded my hands behind my back as we walked towards the house, the lights all on and noises of cookery sounding inside. Frost walked along side, a hidden smile on his face that I hadn't noticed yet.

"She's doing well. She's grown up, very independent," I smirked at him, "Like you."

"Cool," Frost grinned up at me, "Does she know I exist?"

I nodded slowly, and that made him excited. Can't say I blame him, the euphoric feeling of belief was always welcome no matter what age someone was at. He continued to show interest in my girls, mostly about what they do on a daily basis. I told him Alice's job, Sadie's excellent skills in school, and Alice's support of the family. She was like the roman pillar that held up the roof when the other two cracked to ruins, and how she was allowing me to help her with some of the weight. Especially since Sadie's a rowdy teenager, it was more hectic than ever. Her energy was like dealing with three crazy triplets of little Sadie's.

"So, back to your 'immortality' thing," Frost started, swinging his staff over his shoulder.

"Yes, you bluntly said it wasn't a good idea. Shouldn't I know that better than you?" I sneered at him, but he shrugged.

"You should, but I get that you're desperate."

I glared at him, "I'm not desperate."

Frost gave me a knowing look, clearly stating that I was. I growled and looked away, muttering, "Fine. What's your reasoning? Not like I want to hear it."

Frost simply started anyways despite me making it clear I didn't care what he thought, "Well, for starters you don't want to go around telling other spirits you're in this predicament. Secondly, there's no spirit besides Man in Moon that can do that, and I doubt he'll listen to you since he's the one that made the rules."

"Damn…" I muttered, looking up at the sky. No moon out, but that didn't mean he wasn't watching.

"How long have you and Alice been together? Like, four years?" he asked.

I groaned, wishing his incessant chattering would stop. Now I was glad he never joined my side against the Guardians because this little brat talked up a storm, more than Sadie could ever in a lifetime. He continued on about how I was wasting my breath and time, and that sooner or later Alice is going to find someone else that won't be immortal.

Well that topic made me panic again. Hey, I had a reason to snap at him.

"Will you shut up already?!" I snapped at him.

But at the last moment, at the edge of the forest, I saw a sight that could never be erased from my memory. Jack stood still, looking between me and the two people outside. He finally rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, as if he knew the entire story I was watching.

Sandy was there. So was Sadie, and by her face she was genuinely surprised seeing him.

Jack wasn't kidding. Sandy really had changed. Mostly in physical appearance. He was taller, just inches taller than Sadie herself. He must've morphed his form during those four years, and believe me that metamorphosis for a spirit takes ages to do. How he was able to gain energy while transforming his body in just a minimum of four years, I had no idea.

His face was less round than before and his nose was more humanly sculpted, but nonetheless he was still recognizable. His sand body gave an appearance of Indian trousers and the signature folded jacket he had, and his shoes curled.

He...he didn't do all this for Sadie...did he?

I looked at Jack, who winced. "You don't mind I was a distraction, right?"

I growled, "I'll kill you later."

Not wanting to watch this display, nor embarrass Sadie with whatever she was discussing with Sandy, I melted into the shadows. Finally, away from Jack Frost.

Sadie stared, open mouthed. She looked Sandy up and down for the third time. Despite being known as a loud talkative person, no words could describe how she was feeling or what she wanted to say to him. She wanted to hug him and cry because she's missed him so long, she wanted to laugh because of the absurdity of her silence, she wanted to punch Sandy in the stomach for skipping out on her for four freaking years when she needed him most.

"You're...you're back." she stammered, looking into his golden eyes.

He shyly smiled and nodded, looking up through his lashes like a puppy. Sadie found it too adorable for her own good.

I never really left. He touched her hand, but she withdrew. She couldn't look at him, just at the wooden fence of the patio.

"No. You left. Four years and I was alone when I needed you most," Sadie said, looking at the ground with bitterness, "I told you how I felt when I was ten years old and you left because you were disgusted with me."

His fingertips touched her mouth, silencing her. She looked up at him, still angry. He looked mournful, like four years of regret and guilt were finally pouring out of him.

I left for bad reasons that I thought were in the name of your safety. It's bad for humans to love spirits-

"Big excuse," she muttered under his fingertips, "Pitch broke that rule and he's still around. Why couldn't you?"

Because you were young. There were other boys more worthy than me, and I misjudged your feelings as just childish crushing. Sadie, I really did care about you. Do. Why do you think you've never had a single nightmare despite practically living with the Boogeyman?

Sadie couldn't think of a response fast enough for Sandy's liking, so he continued. Now he wasn't just signing or having text float above his head, he was mouthing it. Sadie knew how to lip read, thank goodness for Sandy. She knew sign language as well, mostly from school, but Sandy was too desperate to sign everything that was on his mind.

I never left, Sadie. Physically I did but I would never leave you in any other way. I kept my promise that you would be safe. I always will-

"That's not enough, Sandy," Sadie broke away from him, fighting back tears, "You left for four years. I missed you. I almost gave up on you. But I couldn't, because I really did care about you."

Sandy stepped forward, But-

"But nothing!" Sadie yelled, tears building up in her blue eyes, "You hurt me worse than you thought, Sanderson. I needed you around. I'm still that outcast at school with minimal friends because I still believe in childish fantasies. You never kept me safe in daylight, only when I was asleep! At school I'm harassed by jocks and ridiculed by the teachers for being too liberal and independent. Who was I to go to when I cried? Who could I have possibly gone to that knew how to comfort me and be there?"

Sandy looked down at his slippers, ashamed.

"I couldn't go to Pitch because he'd be angry. Not at me, but he'd go after people and punish them, and the last thing I would want is for people to get hurt because of me. I couldn't go to Alice because she'd try to reason with me why maybe I'm the victim and she ends up sounding like the teachers. You were the only one I knew that let me cry on your shoulder when I needed it, you were there every moment I needed you…"

Sadie's voice fell...she couldn't go on. She didn't have the heart to. Tears were running down her face, and she stubbornly wiped them away, angry at herself for being so weak. Selfish! Self centered! She scolded herself, You make this all about you! How DARE you! How could you do that to him!?

She cried. She tried holding it back, but those four years of loneliness came rushing forth in the form of her tears, and she couldn't stop it. Horrible flashbacks of her lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for those dreamsand images to come hurt her. The images of her writing letters to Sandy she'll never send before throwing them into the trash, of drawing his face until it burned into her brain, thinking that if he had a voice what would it sound like? Lulling and soothing? Musical? Gravely and tough?

Gentle hands touched the sides of her cheekbones, and she looked up, not expecting to see Sandy's face close to hers, noses almost touching.

Without a warning, he softly kissed her, soft as a butterfly's touch. It was one of those kisses that was so gentle it made her heart soar that her wish was fulfilled.

His kiss lingered before he pulled away, looking into her eyes and letting his thumb wipe away her tears.

Do you accept my apology?

Sadie stared at him, not fully processing what was happening. When her brain finally comprehended Sandman's kiss, she clung to him in a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her, gently rubbing her back in circles.

"Don't leave me again. Promise."

Under Man in Moon's watch, I promise.

[winnipegpatty]

like what you’re doing to me | four | s.m. series

a/n: please send me feedback!! It’s really helpful for me in knowing what you guys are liking and what you aren’t!

Los Angeles came sooner than Shawn could have ever hoped with the last of the Europe shows flying by in a flurry. Like predicted, the first few days were packed full of studio sessions and marketing meetings getting every last detail of the song ready for release. Shawn was so proud of the content he was getting ready to release, he really couldn’t wait to see what people would say. After releasing In My Blood and becoming completely honest with his fanbase, he’d realized he had a larger support system than he’d ever imagined. Not in the sense of he had more fans than he ever imagined because he always knew the breadth of his fanbase. It was more in the sense that he hadn’t realized how strongly they would accept his unbridled confessions. When he’d become aware though, of the overwhelming amount of people who’d continue to support him despite struggling with such human emotions, he was invigorated to only push further into those emotions. And he had with this new single, he’d tapped into feelings he hadn’t even know he’d had. But the end product was something Shawn could be completely proud of.

Shawn had been so incredibly busy, he hadn’t even had time to contact Karli until three days into his week and a half or so of break. They’d agreed, back in Manchester, on a date in LA, but Shawn had to come up with a plan before he talked to Karli about it. He wanted to make sure he thought this through and gave her his absolute best. She deserves nothing less. So with studio sessions finally behind him, Shawn set off to plan the perfect first date for the most perfect girl he’d ever met.

Shawn: So, I know I said dinner, but how does a picnic sound?

Karli: I’d say I’m intrigued.

Shawn: Pick you up on Friday at 5?

Karli: Can’t wait to see you :)

___

Shawn picked Karli up right on time. He’d rented a Jeep similar to his at home for the two weeks in LA and he was enjoying the wind blowing through his curls as the sun was dropping lower and lower by the minute.

“Where are we going?” Karli asked about twenty minutes into the drive, noticing how they were heading out of town and towards the coast.

“The beach,” Shawn said simply.

Karli smiled, leaning back in her chair, sliding her hand out the window and feeling it pull her hand back, wind trailing through her fingers. Shawn’s phone was plugged in, listening to music playing through his spotify account, and Karli was content just enjoying his presence and some good music. Karli knew from experience that during this time of the day it would take at least an hour to reach the beach, if not an hour and a half. She didn’t mind the long drives though. Karli sang along to the end of a Julia Michaels song as Shawn’s spotify transitioned into something familiar. It hit Karli instantly, smiling smugly, but she waited a moment to see if Shawn would react. He must not have been completely tuned into the music because he didn’t react until Karli’s voice sang through the speakers, and Shawn’s eyes instantly went wide. He reached towards the phone, presumably to skip the song, as if Karli hadn’t known exactly what it was the moment it started playing.

She laughed, looking at Shawn, “You’re really gonna change it now?”

Shawn blushed, pulling his hand away from the phone, “I, uh, no?” He questioned. “It’s weird…”

“Which part? The part where you clearly went out of your way to download the song because it’s not even on spotify or the part where you tried to skip the song as if I hadn’t already noticed it was my song the second it was on?” Karli smirked, looking at Shawn.

Shawn’s blushed deepened, spreading to his neck, “Both?”

Karli laughed lightly, “Shawn, it’s not weird. It means you liked the song, which is…” She searched for the perfect word. “Cool,” She finally settled.

“It’s embarrassing.” Shawn admitted, scratching his neck.

Karli shook her head from the passenger seat, “What? You don’t think I’ve never listened to your music either? Shawn, we’re musicians… we listen to other people’s music. It’s normal.”

“Yeah, but I went out of my way to listen to this song. My songs are way easier to access.” It wasn’t meant as an insult or anything, it was simply the truth.

Karli, trying to calm his clearly anxious thoughts, laid a hand on his thigh, looking intently at him even as he stared at the road. “Shawn, it is really amazing to me that you like my music. It makes me happy. Even just knowing you watch my Youtube videos is special to me. I don’t think it’s weird at all, and I’m flattered. The fact that you, and tons of other people, had such a strong positive reaction to my first original song means the world to me. It was something special and I was so nervous to put it out into the world. I’m sure when you first heard people listening to your music, it was surreal. But it was still probably a good feeling, right?”

Shawn glanced over at Karli for a moment before answering, “Yeah...it was...everything I’d ever dreamed of.”

“Exactly.” Karli said confidently, leaning back into her chair, removing her hand from Shawn’s thigh. “So it’s not weird. It’s sweet.”

__

Shawn pulled up to the upper parking lot of Point Dume State Beach. The view was breathtaking and the water was the deepest blue Karli had ever seen. Shawn led them down a path towards the sandy beach, basket and blanket in hand.

“I came here with Niall and a big group of friends sometime last year,” Shawn said as he laid the blanket on the sand. “It’s so beautiful, but most people don’t even know about it since it’s so hidden.”

“An ideal place for a famous people hang out,” Karli laughed.

“Something like that.” Shawn smiled.

Karli was the first to sit down on the blanket, Shawn taking a spot next to her. He leaned back, his arms supporting himself from behind, and together they just looked out at the beach for a moment.

“You know, sometimes it’s really hard to get away.”

Karli hummed, glancing at Shawn, “You ever wish it were different?”

He bit his lip for a moment, contemplating his answer. The truth was, millions of people dreamed of having what he had. But living it was different than dreaming it. “I wish, what were different,” Shawn started, “were people’s expectations of me.”

“In what way?” She wondered.

“Like this for instance,” Shawn gestured between the two of them, “There’s a unspoken sense of entitlement that people have in regards to my personal life. I’m sure you even experience to that to some degree. But they think just because you’ve put yourself in the public eye or released a couple of videos or have tons of Instagram followers, that they now have claim to your entire life.They’d never admit it out loud, but they feel entitled to every part of you, even if you never had any intention of giving that part of you away.”

Karli simply nodded her head in understanding, allowing Shawn to continue his own thought process.

“It’s not that I want to hide things, or be as secretive as possible. I just want to feel like I have a life. Being constantly on camera, people shouting your name, it’s a lot. It makes me constantly anxious. There’s no end. Like, if you think about when you were a kid and your mom would continually nag you to do a chore. And you’d get so tired of her saying your name? It’s like that, but it’s my whole life. There’s no silence. There’s always someone wanting a photo or to say hi. And I love them all, I really do. And I appreciate their support. But sometimes you just need silence.”

Karli nodded, “I’m sorry that it’s like that because it shouldn’t be. I’m sorry that you can’t just put out music and perform and that be all it’s about.”

“It comes with the territory, but I just wish it were a little...less.”

“Well, anytime you’re in LA you can always come to my house. I can lock you in a room so you can have some silence.”

Shawn threw his head back in a burst of laughter, “It’s sad that would actually appeal to me.”

“No phones, no music, no fans or managers. Just you, in a room. I’ll give you a tv and some books to read,” Karli smiled.

Shawn looked at her, smiling from ear to ear, “One day, you’re going to completely understand everything I just said.”

Karli looked at her lap, blush creeping up her pale skin, “You think that’s all going to happen for me, eh?”

“Oh, I know it. Karli King you are going to take the music industry my storm one day soon.”

“That’s the dream.” She whispered.

“Just don’t let it carry you away.”

Together, they enjoyed a lovely picnic dinner. They talked about everything imaginable, and Shawn couldn’t remember the last person he’d felt so free to talk to. There was something special about Karli. She was smart and confident and held so much depth as a person. She intrigued Shawn in all the best possible ways, and he just wanted more of her.

“So when do you leave?” Karli asked him sometime later in the evening.

The sun had set, and they’d toed off their shoes some time ago. They were standing the shallow bits of water, enjoying the water rushing over their feet as their toes sunk deeper into the sand.

“I have another full week, and then I’m off to the races, touring the rest of North America.”

Karli hummed, “And when you’re LA concert?”

“I have two.” Shawn reached for her hand, and swung it between them, looking at their linked fingers instead of Karli. “Friday and Saturday, and then I’ll leave on Tuesday.”

Karli nodded, squeezing his hand.

“You gonna come?”

She smiled up at Shawn, “If you don’t mind me crashing in.”

Shawn’s eyes gleamed with happiness, “I would never. I want to see you as much as I can before I leave.”

Karli toed her way to Shawn until they were face to face, toes bumping each other under the water. “I would like that.”

With his free hand, Shawn reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand rested on her cheeking, guiding her eyes to look at him. “In that case,” he whispered, his words meant just for her. “Would you want to go to breakfast with me Tuesday morning before I have to leave?”

Karli nodded before whispering a “yeah” in response.

They stayed like that, toes pressed into the sand, fingers tangled together, and water washing ashore, just enjoying the quiet around them and the sound of the lapping waves.

___

Karli and Shawn weren’t exactly being careful about the time they were spending together, and fans were certainly starting to notice. But every comment or tweet that insinuated that they were anything more than friends went unanswered.

Sure, perfectly timed trips to Manchester was suspect. And aesthetic shots of the beach posted on the same day were conspicuous. And attending three of Shawn’s concerts wasn’t exactly subtle. But they really didn’t care. Shawn didn’t feel the need to hide, and it’s not like they were officially together or anything. Right now they really were just friends who were getting to know each other and were most likely headed towards a relationship (at least if Shawn had something to say about it). He’d never lie to his fans, but that didn’t mean he’d always give them the facts.

On Tuesday morning bright and early, Shawn and Karli met at a local cafe near Shawn’s hotel. They ate and talked and shared soft touches under the table. It was everything a movie romance could possibly be. The only downer was that in less than an hour, Shawn would be leaving and would be busy for months with little to no break.

But Shawn had one thing he needed to do before he left.

“Karli,” Shawn asked after they’d finished their food and were just finishing their coffees.

“Yeah?” She asked, putting down her cup.

“I know this is like new,” Shawn motioned with his hands between the two of them, “but I really like you. And, I know it’s a lot to ask of someone, considering the lifestyle I live, but I would really like to be able to call you my girlfriend.” Shawn’s cheeks were the deepest red Karli had ever seen them. He was extremely flustered, but it was so adorable. “I don’t mean like, let’s tell the whole world we’re dating. I’m not ready for something like that,” Shawn eyed her for a moment, gauging her reaction. “But, I really feel like this is going somewhere, and I can’t leave on tour without asking.”

Karli smiled, “I really thought you were never going to ask.”

tagging: @peacedolantwins2 @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel @justanotherfangurl272 @yourwonderbelle @loveydoveyshawn @outlandishnerd @amandash113 @my-sweet-escape-from-the-world @fourtristattoos @lostinroses @ilsolee

[sariasprincy-writes]

Hollow Point 17

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen (here) 

Chapter Seventeen The beginning of the end

The cold water seeped into Sakura’s body. So bone-chilling she was sure the blood in her veins had frozen solid. She wasn’t even sure how she made it to the shore. Only knew that in one moment she was trying to drive her numbing body towards the sandy beach and the next, Itachi was suddenly there, hauling her soaked form out of the river.

He supported the majority of her weight, her legs like jell-o as he half-carried, half-dragged her up the sand and towards his car. He leaned her against the back door before he began attacking her clothes, pulling her gloves off before reaching for the zipper of her jacket.

“Told you you’d survive,” he told her as he worked.

Sakura glared. “I hate you,” she managed to hiss through her teeth, the muscles of her jaw tense and her tongue heavy in her mouth.

She thought she saw Itachi smirk faintly before he pulled her shirt over her head. In her sluggish state, it took her a moment to realize she was down to only in her bra. Sakura opened her mouth, but the words were muffled when Itachi yanked his own sweatshirt off and slipped it down over her head.

The sudden, delicious warmth killed her retort on contact. And Itachi didn’t wait for one. He simply ushered her into the passenger side of the car where the heat was blowing and the seat warmer was on max.

Sakura melted into the cushion. She greedily sucked up as much heat as she could, her fingers curling around the inside of the sleeves. Itachi’s sweatshirt was big, much too big to fit her properly, but it was warm. So warm. She couldn’t resist burying into it, his cologne clinging to the inside of her nose.

The car ride was silent as Itachi drove. At some point when her body began to thaw and her mind could focus on something other than how damn cold she was, Sakura peered out the window. The highway signs told her they were heading north. Out of the city. Those shimmering lights grower smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

She snuck a glance in Itachi’s direction. He was in just a t-shirt. In the glow from the dash’s backlight, his features were thrown into sharp contrast. She traced the curve of his cheekbone down to his jawline and mouth. If there was something to read in his expression, she couldn’t see it in the semi-darkness.

As if he felt her stare, Itachi’s gaze flickered to her. He seemed to sense her unspoken question for he told her as his eyes returned to the road, “I own some property up North.”

He didn’t provide any other details and she didn’t ask. Just watched the street signs flash by until they pulled up to a house almost an hour later.

It was two stories and surrounded by a large yard. She couldn’t see much beyond the darkness. Only a single light in the distance from a neighboring home. None of the lights outside or inside the house were on. Only the headlights of Itachi’s car illuminated the driveway as they slowed to a stop. He cut the engine and got out without a word. Sakura watched him through the windshield for a long moment, debating her decision to follow him or not. In the end, she chose to abandon the vehicle.

The house itself was nice. Nothing too fancy. Just comfortable. Like a family home. She briefly wondered if this had perhaps been his, but she didn’t ask. Just left her soaked boots by the front door and trailed behind him as he led her upstairs to the master bedroom. There, he handed her a towel before he directed her into the bathroom. And the shower.

xx

At least an hour had passed before Sakura wandered back downstairs. Itachi heard her footsteps on the stairs, that creaking bottom step always a giveaway. He peered over the top of his computer when she rounded the corner. She was wearing the sweats and plain, black t-shirt he had left out for her, her own clothes still tumbling in the dryer.

For some reason he did a double take. Unused to how her wet hair fell down her shoulders, the way her face was absent of makeup. With her big name and high-powered rifles, he sometimes forgot she was only in her mid-twenties. So young. Yet so old.

Sakura gave the room one sweeping glance before she finally turned back to him. When she noticed his stare, she cocked her brow pointedly. “What?”

He bit back his smile. This was more what he was used to. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

Sakura eyed him a moment longer but eventually let it go. “I may have used your entire month’s supply of hot water. Sorry,” she said, not really sounding that sorry.

Itachi’s smile widened minutely. “I can make some tea if you’re still cold.”

“I’m not much of a tea drinker,” she told him as she pulled out one of the chairs to sit adjacent to him. Her phone and the radio she had stolen sat on one end of the table. She barely glanced at them, both too waterlogged to ever work again.

“That’s right. You favor tequila,” he said.

As if she had asked for some, Itachi stood and made his way over to a cabinet. Whatever he had been working on must have not been too important for he left his computer open and easily accessible to her viewing. She glanced at it briefly, only to find nothing of interest. Instead, she turned her head to watch him move about the kitchen.

Itachi returned with two glasses and a half-full bottle of tequila. He poured a drink and passed it off to her before filling one for himself. It burned in the best way as it went down.

“So,” Sakura said after she had taken a few sips, “we going to discuss what the hell happened tonight?”

Itachi set his own drink aside, the glass clinking quietly against the tabletop. “I didn’t know about the raid, if that is what you’re asking. At least not until it was already too late.”

When Sakura just continued to stare at him, he sighed. “I’ve been in Israel. My plane landed an hour before I called you.”

“And were you playing good cop or bad cop this time?” she asked, the barest of smirks playing in the corner of her mouth before it disappeared behind her glass.

Itachi shot her a look but didn’t bother with a reply before he returned to his computer. “From what I’ve been able to dig up on the CIA’s end, the FBI was after Izuna’s man, not you.”

“I only set up this meeting with Izuna last night. How did they arrange a raid so quickly?”

He shook his head. “That I don’t know yet. Shisui is still following some leads, but the FBI only know Izuna’s man was meeting a woman by the name of ‘Tsunade’. From the emails and text messages we’ve read through, they haven’t been able to identify you specifically.”

Hacked was more likely what Itachi meant but Sakura didn’t call him out. It was the first thing he had said that actually made her relax. She sat back in her chair and drank from her glass slowly, thoughtfully. Rolling all this new information around.

It was unlikely Izuna knew his man was being watched, but between him and Hashirama, this was the second mole in as many weeks. Her confidence in them was beginning to wane. Dangerous for people in their line of work.

When Sakura looked at Itachi again, she was surprised to find he was already watching her. She didn’t say anything. Simply cocked her brow quizzically.

Itachi sipped his glass again before answering. “I wasn’t sure you would actually jump.”

She huffed a laugh, but it was mostly lacking in amusement. “I’ll admit it’s definitely near the top of craziest things I’ve ever done.”

The corner of his mouth twitched but he didn’t immediately reply. He simply continued to study her, those black eyes piercing as if he was trying to read her very soul. Her skin flushed hot. From more than just her shower.

“What?” she asked again.

She half-expected him to shake his head again, but he didn’t. He just continued to watch her, his chin resting in his palm. “You really don’t have any fear, do you?”

There was no amusement or accusation in his question. Rather, just honest curiosity. Like he was looking at a puzzle he just couldn’t figure out.

For some reason that question sank deep in her chest. Settled in that hole that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day. She tried to lessen that weight with more tequila. The alcohol helped numb some of it.

“I think a lack of fear is a requirement for my job, isn’t it?” she asked with a forced smile.

A strange expression settling over his features then. As if something he hadn’t considered before had just crossed his mind. “Except it isn’t fearlessness, is it. You just don’t care whether you live or die.”

There was an usually note of sadness in his voice. It did something to her insides she didn’t like.

At that moment, Sakura decided she was done with this conversation. Instead, she took to gazing about the room, noting that while there was furniture and pictures hanging on the wall, none of them had any meaning. Almost like a hotel. Decorated simply to fill the blank space.

“This is your house?” she asked eventually.

Itachi had returned to working on his laptop while she looked around. He typed out another sentence before he finally closed it. The quiet hum of the internal fan shut off, suddenly casting them into silence. He seemed to study the room before offering her an answer, “It’s one of my safehouses. Not even the CIA knows it exists.”

Her brow arched curiously at that. “And you brought me here why?”

“I’m not planning to kill you,” he said as if he had read more into her question. “If I had wanted you dead, I had only needed to leave you in that river.”

Sakura had considered that herself. It was the only reason she hadn’t pressed him where they had been going in the car. She didn’t bother correcting him, instead just rolled her head to one side. “Why did you help me out of that hotel?”

To her surprise, Itachi went quiet. Thought visibly rolled through his head. “Because you were right about Newark. If we hadn’t pulled our team out when you said last week, they would have gotten caught up in the massacre that was Pier 86.”

Flashes of Tobirama and the blood that had clung to him that early morning flickered through her head. A massacre was the only word to describe the failed raid he and his men had attempted against Akatsuki. It truly was amazing he had even gotten out.

Blinking, Sakura banished Tobirama from her mind. She drained the rest of her glass before she set it down and peered at Itachi again. “So, saving me was your way of thanking me?”

“If you want to see it that way.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. That strange look was back on Itachi’s face. She didn’t understand that either.

Unable to hold his stare, Sakura looked down to where her finger was tracing the rim of her glass, ignoring the way the back of her neck suddenly flushed again. She changed the subject. “Any update on Madara?” she asked.

When Sakura glanced up again, Itachi was no longer looking at her. He peered at the clock on the wall before turning to her again. “I do have one lead Shisui is following up with,” he told her. “A port Madara is trying to seize on the south side. Once I have more information, I’ll let you know. Have you heard anything more on your end?”

Sakura thought about the flash drive Shikamaru had given her. The list of working ports and warehouses Madara was looking into. She shook her head. “Nothing yet, but I may soon. Do you have anything more on Akatsuki?”

To her surprise, Itachi nodded. “Yes, that’s actually why I was in Israel. I have a contact I want you to meet. I think he might be able to give you some information that may help.”

Sakura eyed Itachi, somewhat amazed he was willing to give her information when she had none to trade in return. A trap was her first thought. But as Itachi had said himself, if he had wanted to kill her the opportunity to do so had already passed.

“When?” she asked.

“One week. In Tel Aviv.”

She was quiet as she thought. A contact in Israel. That was her territory. There weren’t any contacts there that she knew of. Unless they worked for the government. That made her hesitant. She didn’t want to work with anymore military, police or otherwise. But Itachi knew her well enough not to offer something that would threaten her work.

In the end, Sakura’s curiosity won out. “I’ll be there,” she said.

A smile crossed Itachi’s face before he glanced at the clock for a second time. Sakura followed his gaze. It was four. The sun still some hours off.

Itachi stood with a yawn. “I haven’t slept since sunrise in Tel Aviv. I need a nap. I’ll take you back to the city afterwards.”

Sakura remained at the table as he headed upstairs.

Itachi was hardly surprised when he awoke a few hours later to find she was gone. What did surprise him was his car was still in the driveway. Only the number of a burner phone in his cell’s recent contacts.

Other than that, there was no trace she had ever been there. Their drinking glasses washed and put away, the tequila back in the cabinet. Her clothes were gone, the ones he had let her borrow folded in his drawer.

Itachi couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. As if he had expected anything different. Not that it mattered. He would see her again in a week.

xx

The following night Hashirama summoned Sakura. As if he knew she was keeping her head low, he had texted her. Just a time and place. Not that he needed to. Hashirama was never very good at keeping a low profile.

Bright, flashing lights and balloons in blues and silver decorated the outside of the city aquarium. The venue for his business party. It took up the entire west wing. In front of the large, glass tank where the largest sharks and most colorful fish swam in circles.

The rest of the building was left empty and quiet. Sakura stood in a tunnel of jellyfish as she waited. With her head tilted back, she watched the see-through creatures drift through the gentle current, their neon bodies and tentacles brightened by the deep blue backdrop. It was mesmerizing to watch. How effortlessly they sank and rose. Bouncing off one another in slow motion before moving on.

She didn’t have to wait long before the soft, inspiring background music was interrupted. She heard each step of those expensive shoes as they clacked against the tiles. Sakura didn’t turn to greet Hashirama. Simply waited for him to come to a stop beside her.

They said nothing for the first minute. Merely observed the smooth glide of the jellyfish as they drifted through the water.

Sakura was the first to break the silence. “What grown man rents out an aquarium for a party?”

Hashirama just stared at her when she turned to face him. Side-by-side, she realized she could have been his rebellious daughter with her in her leather jacket and boots, and him in his pressed, tailored suit. Even before she had spoken, she knew this wasn’t a friendly visit. Not that she was expecting one. She was pissed too.

“I thought I made it clear to you not to get involved with Tobirama,” he told her calmly. Too calm.

Sakura cocked her head. “That’s what you want to talk about? Not that fact that Izuna’s primary supplier was being watched by the FBI. That I nearly got arrested and killed myself.”

When Hashirama just continued to watch her, her eyes narrowed. “You have had two moles in two weeks. Your oversights are beginning to threaten my business, Hashirama.”

He didn’t immediately react as his gaze returned to the jellyfish display. He studied it so intensely she half wondered if he was considering drowning her in the exhibit. Make it look like an accident.

“Izuna assures me he was unaware that his man was being watched,” Hashirama told her eventually.

Sakura scowled. “I don’t give a fuck what Izuna says,” she retorted, voice low. “I won’t have a third incident. Clean up your house, Hashirama. It’s beginning to fill with shit.”

Hashirama didn’t react but his hazel eyes were as cool as copper plating and as hard as lead when he looked at her. She was toeing a dangerous line. One wrong step from finding a bullet through her foot. Sakura glanced away.

The aquarium music filled the space between them after that. It almost felt like they were tainting the serenity of the chamber with their conversation. A dark presence in a pure room.

“I should hope moving forward that nothing will interfere with your business interactions with Tobirama,” Hashirama eventually said. “I have enough to deal with between you and Izuna.”

“Believe me, Hashirama,” Sakura murmured, her eyes forward and her voice tinged with something not quite pleasant. “Izuna and I get along swimmingly.”

She turned away after that, content to end their discussion there. Only to pause as Hashirama spoke again, “I know you did not come to me as thanks for pulling you out of that orphanage,” he told her quietly. His tone non-threatening but dangerous both at the same time. “I never trusted Tsunade. And I do not trust you either.”

Sakura couldn’t help but smile at Hashirama as she turned her head to look back at him. “In our line of work, Hashirama, you would be an idiot to.”

His gaze stuck to her back until she rounded the corner. Her smile held only a few minutes longer before it too vanished as she headed back out into the night. Back out into the dark.

xx

The waitress greeted Izuna the instant he stepped through the door. She collected his jacket and drink order before he crossed the room to sit in the leather chair he usually frequented at this gentlemen’s club.

As he waited, he adjusted his cuff links, smoothed down the front of his suit. Settling only once every wrinkle had been flattened out.

“Your drink, sir,” the waitress said a few minutes later.

She handed him an old-fashioned and smiled her thanks upon his generous tip before she vacated the room. It took Izuna one sip to realize she was not the only one to do so.

Setting his drink down, he eyed the bar, watching as the few remaining customers in the club stood from their seats and slipped out. So carefully, so smoothly he nearly didn’t notice. With his guard up, Izuna slipped his hand into his jacket for his gun and made to stand. Only to still when the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

“I wouldn’t pull that out if I were you.”

Izuna’s nostrils flared angrily but he withdrew his empty hand from his coat slowly, somehow unsurprised to find her here. “You have some nerve showing up here,” he told Sakura coolly.

The pressure against the side of his head lessened as she moved around the chair to stand directly in front of him. She then touched the blunt end of the weapon to his forehead. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you now.”

Her tone was casual enough but the steel behind her gaze was enough to let him know she was serious. Izuna ground his teeth together to fight back his retort. “I did not know my supplier was being watched,” he told her.

Sakura pressed the barrel harder. “Not good enough.”

Even with her weapon pressed to his face, he managed to glare. “What do you want? A written apology? Because you’re not going to get one. The FBI is now on my ass, my primary supplier was arrested and I still have no weapons. From where I’m standing, it seems like you set everything up.”

“Oh, don’t even go there,” Sakura rolled her eyes. “You chose the time and the place. This is on you. You’re still going to pay for that shipment.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” He reached up to wrap his fingers around the barrel of her gun and pulled it closer. “You and I both know you won’t do it. You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my brother and Hashirama’s relationship.”

Her eyes narrowed, her finger briefly tightening around the trigger. Not enough to engage the bullet but close enough that one twitch would scatter Izuna’s brain matter on the high back of his chair. A long, tense silence passed before she loosened her grasp and lowered the gun.

Izuna had barely begun to smirk before Sakura cocked her fist back and punched him square in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and painted his upper lip red. He raised a hand to the damage before he looked down at the crimson staining his fingers.

“You bitch,” he snarled.

Sakura straightened, a proud smile on her lips. “You only wish I was as nice as a bitch.”

Izuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously but before he could move, another swept into the room. Sakura held her weapon towards the newcomer. Only to pause as she recognized Tobirama.

He stopped short. First eyeing Sakura and the gun she still had pointed at him, and then Izuna whose blood had seeped through his fingers and was dripping down onto his pressed suit. Tobirama looked caught between smirking and frowning.

“Should I come back?” Tobirama asked her.

Sakura eyed him a moment, briefly interested as to why he wasn’t being more abrasive. She wondered if he was actually sorry about bursting into her apartment those few weeks ago. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since then. Not even through text message.

But she doubted that. Tobirama was never sorry about anything. More likely he had just heard of her botched meeting with Izuna’s supplier. Had Tobirama been in her position, she was certain he would have unloaded a bullet into the younger Uchiha brother by now.

“No, we’re done here,” Sakura said, pocketing her weapon. Without another glance at either man, she swept past Tobirama and out of the room.

Three blocks later, Sakura got a phone call. She shoved both hands into the pockets of her jacket, only pulling the one with her cell out. She half-expected it to be Hashirama. Or perhaps Tobirama. Her brow arched when Naruto’s name popped up on the caller ID.

“What is it?” she answered.

“Hey, do you remember that thing you asked me to look into?” Naruto asked. “About other possible places Akatsuki might be using to traffic their shipments in and out of the country.”

On the other end of the line, she could hear the roar of the wind as if he was standing somewhere that was unprotected. “Yeah, did you find something?” Sakura asked, flexing the hand inside her coat. Her knuckles ached where they made contact with Izuna’s face.

“Yeah, I found a port,” Naruto told her. “And it’s close. Very close.”

to be continued…

[eremika0000]

(Ferriswheelshipping) Awakened Emotions Chapter 24

Yay, I'm back! Let the dramafest commence. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

Steven and N reluctantly leave the injured White behind, heading off into the jungle to hopefully find food and water. She is left upon the sandy beach, sitting on her knees and not sure what to do with herself. N had suggested she try to find a water Pokemon or flying Pokemon that could help them get off the island, but the island was strangely desolate of any living creatures. Even after spending hours there, she hadn't seen a single creature. The island was a bit creepy in that aspect. A normal island would be teeming with wildlife, and she should probably be able to hear tropical birds squawking away since she was so near the jungle, but no. It was completely silent around her other than the gentle sound of the ocean waves lapping against the shore.

White kept her eyes peeled for any sort of wildlife, but after spending a few hours sitting around doing nothing, she felt like she was going to go crazy. There hadn't been a single sign of any Pokemon nearby, and the midday sun was just starting to beat down on her. The morning sun hadn't been too bad, but the afternoon sun was brutal. With her lack of water for the last day in the terrible climate, she felt like she was going to pass out. She no longer focused her sights on trying to look out for Pokemon, but instead was trying to focus on not passing out. If she passed out, with no one around, she might be viable to any sort of jungle predator that might suddenly appear. Although it was unlikely, with the jungle seeming to lack any sort of life, it didn't necessarily mean that there wasn't any wildlife. They might just be really good at hiding.

Eventually, every minute of trying to force her eyelids open felt like an hour. Her eyelids were fluttering open and closed at her desperate attempt to stay awake, After a while more of struggling to stay conscious, she had slipped into a deep fitful slumber without even realizing it.

*Later*

White is awakened by the quiet sounds of N and Steven's desperate voices. They sounded exhausted and worn out.

"I don't think we should wake her up, Steven…" She hears N say, and then hears the sound of him plopping onto the sand with a thud. "I think she needs her rest…"

She hears an exhausted sigh from what she presumes to be Steven. "Think about it, N. She should be awake in case any sort of threat is around. I agree that she needs the sleep,, but will probably be able to stay safe and escape if some sort of threat appears while she's awake."

"I suppose you're right. I want her to stay safe…" N murmurs.

White was pretending to be asleep still, and her heart warms at their concern. She slowly opens her eyes, surprised to see that many hours had passed since she had fallen asleep, since the sun appeared to be starting to set. She gasps in horror as she takes in the sight of the thoroughly beaten up N and Steven. They both had various gashes across their bodies, and their clothing had lots of little tears across them. They were covered in dirt and their hands looked especially scraped up. They both looked like they were going to pass out any moment, and basically looked like they had gone through hell out there in the jungle.

*I wish I could have helped them… White thinks with feelings of guilt consuming her. I know I can't help that I'm injured, but I feel like a burden…*

N notices White's now opened blue eyes. "White! You're awake. I'm sorry, but we weren't able to find anything… But we want to go out looking one more time before it gets too dark out. We're gonna go in a different direction this time, and hopefully we'll find something. We just thought we'd come back here and tell you that we're okay, since it's been so long. Are you doing okay, White?" He reaches his hand out gently, giving her hair a little ruffle.

"Yes… I'm fine." White murmurs. Even though she felt like crap, and she knew N did too, it wasn't completely unbearable.

"I'm sorry White, but we want time to go looking for supplies again before it gets completely dark out. Are you ready, N?" Steven asks.

She notices that the relationship between Steven and N seemed to have improved. She wonders if they bonded while looking for supplies, and she smiles a bit at this thought. They were always bickering, she thought it was about time that they started to get along.

N and Steven wave at her as they then trudged tiredly through the sand, looking like they were going to fall over at any moment.

Tears prick the corners of her eyes as she watches the pair of men pathetically limp away with injuries littering their body and their eyes glazed over. She wanted to help so badly in any way that she could, but it hurt so terribly to move at all. As the pair disappear into the jungle, she attempts to stand for the first time in over a day. Her entire body protests, and her vision becomes incredibly shaky and blurry. Her arm pulses in agony as she gets her first knee up. Then, suddenly, her vision blurs completely out and she finds herself collapsing upon the sand.

Luckily. She landed on her uninjured arm. Despite things hurting even more now after her little fall, she felt more determined than ever.

*I can do this. I can do this.*

White puts her first knee out again, managing to put all the weight on that. With much struggle, she is finally able to stand up. With a groan, she staggers towards the jungle, her fists clenched in determination.

*Steven and N went towards the east originally to search… Then they were unable to find anything, so they left to search the north part. Maybe I should try the far west area? They haven't explored it yet, I might find something…*

After a few painful minutes of limping, she manages to make it to the edge of the sandy beach and at the start of the scary looking jungle. The jungle was so dense that you could hardly see far into it, only a few feet in. There were so many leaves and canopies that it would probably be easy to get lost.

She hesitantly takes the first step into the jungle, terrified of what would await her in the unknown area. Although the jungle was eerily quiet, you never knew what could be hidden in the dense forest.

White begins to travel through the jungle slowly at first, the pain in her arm slowing her down quite a bit. However, she found herself beginning to think of their inevitable fate if they couldn't find any food or water, and she was able to motivate herself to keep going, despite the horrible pain her body was in.

She felt like she had been struggling through the forest for days, even though it had probably been only twenty minutes. Every few moments, she would have to move a hanging branch or vine out of her way with her uninjured arm, but she still missed a few. She ended up getting quite a few scratches across her body, but she kept going.

Not to mention, there were also lots of bugs. White definitely wasn't a fan of them, and what she really wanted was to run back to her safe haven. However, she knew this needed to be done. For all of their survival. Eventually, every step felt like another mile to her. She didn't know how she kept going in her condition, but she did.

Suddenly, she heard a sound. It sounded like angels wings from above. Well, not really. It sounded like running water. It definitely wasn't ocean water, and she could hear the water rolling across what seemed like rocks. She runs towards the sound, hoping that it wasn't in her imagination. And then, she found it. The oasis in the middle of the desert. The one place they'd all been searching for.

It was a tiny clearing in the middle of the jungle. There was a small pond that opened up to a few tinier puddles below it, and there was also a banana tree next to the pond. White found herself drooling. She hadn't had any fresh water or food in such a long time, and it looked so delectable at the moment. She rushes towards the heaven on Earth, and gasps in surprise as her foot gets caught on a rock, causing her to spiral towards the ground. She screams in pain as she lands directly with all her weight upon her already injured arm, and her forehead smashes into the ground as well, causing her to go out cold.

*Meanwhile…*

"Steven! She's not here!" N screams in horror as he desperately searches along the sandy shores for White.

Steven comes running up behind N, clearly concerned as well. N had rushed quite ahead of Steven in order to get back to White faster, despite being dehydrated, exhausted, and quite scratched up. Steven is horrified to learn of her sudden disappearance. He looks around the beach as well, seeing no trace of the small brunette.

N begins to panic, holding his head in his hands as he collapses to his knees. "Where is she? Did she get attacked by some sort of animal? Is she okay? What are we going to do? Where is she?" His sentences become more muddled together as he starts to breathe heavily in stress.

Steven looks around, trying to think about things logically. "No… If there was an attack, there would be blood. I don't see any blood around here… Oh! We need to look for footprints in the sand, N."

N quickly complies, wanting to do any method needed in order to find White. Steven notices small footprints along the sand, which were leading towards the jungle. "There are footprints here! They're leading towards the jungle… Do you think she left of her own will?"

N chuckles brokenly, his voice sounding like he was barely keeping his own sanity. "It seems like something she would do… She was always so adventurous and energetic... I shouldn't have left her here alone… She probably felt so lonely and scared. I should have known something like this could happen… What if something happens to her? What do we do!"

Steven places a hand upon N's shoulder, attempting to steady him. "N, calm down. She probably just wanted to help us look for supplies. She couldn't have gotten too far with her injuries yet. We just saw her an hour ago before we left again."

He nods, attempting to calm himself as well. "You're right, she can't be too far… Let's go find her!"

I'm going to end this chapter here because it feels right, even though it's a bit short. Hopefully the next chapter will come out fast. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Please leave me some feedback, I love it.

[tvdas]

Buddhism was born under a giant fig tree, which, today, grows at the center of the remote and unbeautiful town of Bodh Gaya, in India’s destitute northeastern state of Bihar. The tree is about three crooked blocks from the Be Happy Café and a few minutes’ walk from a used book store where a middle-aged Krishna devotee from Iowa, named James, works, reselling old paperbacks by Hesse and Murakami.

The sacred Bodhi Tree is surrounded by a wall and guarded by police. (Islamic extremists bombed the site in 2013.) At dawn, before pilgrims begin their daily perambulations around the tree’s massive trunk, local children forage under its sprawling canopy—some branches are propped up by iron columns—to gather fallen leaves. Pressed inside clear plastic, the leaves are sold to visitors from Bhutan, Myanmar, and Manhattan, and to outposts of Buddhism around the world. The historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, a reputed prince from what is now Nepal, is said to have achieved nirvana while meditating under the tree, in the fifth century B.C. The Awakened One purportedly spent seven weeks under the Bodhi Tree after achieving liberation from the wheel of suffering that binds humankind to selfhood, aging, disease, and death. So Deepak Anand told me.

Last winter, I met Anand not in the Be Happy Café but at one of its competitors, the Tibet Om Cafe. The menu offered a staple comfort food of Western spiritual seekers in Asia: banana pancakes. Anand, who was forty-five, didn’t eat. He was tall, pin-thin, had a shaved head, and was so intense and talkative that he ordered a cup of tea but forgot to drink it. Anand is a self-taught cultural geographer. For the past twelve years, he has analyzed historical texts and used G.P.S. technology to chart what he says are the pathways walked by the Buddha as he spread his philosophy of mindfulness across northern India, about twenty-four hundred years ago. Anand hopes to promote this spiritual legacy by reviving a network of “Buddha trails” for pilgrims and tourists to walk in Bihar, the cradle of the world’s fourth-largest religion. Yet Buddhism largely vanished from the region centuries ago, eclipsed by Hinduism and Islam. Today, farmers plow up stone effigies without realizing that the sculptures are antique representations of the sage. “People long ago tore down the stupas and built their homes using the old bricks and stones,” Anand said, referring to Buddhist monuments that once dotted the Ganges River plains. “They simply didn’t know.”

To test his ideas, Anand suggested we hike from the Tree of Enlightenment, in Bodh Gaya, to the ruins of the Nalanda university—an important center of Buddhist learning, which was razed by Turkic invaders in the twelfth century. The four-day trek effectively spans Buddhism’s rise and fall in the subcontinent—many scholars believe the university’s destruction contributed to the religion’s decline. No one in recent times, Anand assured me, had retraced the Buddha’s footsteps along the fifty-mile route.

The Buddha’s only concession to hiking kit was a begging bowl. He sometimes strode through the villages of Bihar with a large crowd of followers in tow. Our own walking party numbered four: the Bangalore-based journalist Bhavita Bhatia carried a Free Tibet flag in her rucksack; Siddharth Agarwal, a river conservationist from Kolkata, lugged a leaden hardback copy of “Ganges: The Many Pasts of an Indian River”; I packed the electronics needed to transmit stories from the trail. Only Anand practiced Buddhist non-attachment. All he brought was a light sweater. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said, when we caught up with him on the trail, after he repeatedly surged ahead. “I’m a high-energy person.”

In the Buddha’s day, northern India’s religious landscape was in a time of spiritual crisis and social upheaval. Disillusioned, rudderless, Siddhartha renounced his gilded life—a childhood with thirty-two nursemaids, a kingdom with seasonal palaces and private gardens, and his princess wife and their child—to join other ascetics meditating in forests along the Neranjara River.

Today, plastic trash spangles the river’s sandy banks. Miles of rice fields steam where giant trees once threw blue shadows. “British records reported a leopard at the train station as late as the nineteen-thirties,” Anand said, wistfully. “It’s all gone.”

A carload of sightseeing Malaysian monks stopped to ask us directions. They ended up debating Anand about the location of Ratnagiri Rock, the site sometimes identified as the place where Siddhartha finally abandoned the hermit life, broke his fast with a bowl of gruel, and invented a “middle way” to transcendence that rejects both extreme sensuality and extreme austerity. Anand informed the monks that he had geotagged the exact coördinates of Siddhartha’s epiphany. The monks smiled in polite silence. “There are so many sects in Buddhism,” Anand said. “It’s impossible to convince them all.” We walked on. We passed the mountain cave where Siddhartha was said to have mortified himself for six years, by some accounts sleeping on a bed of spikes. And, after that pilgrimage stop, Bihar became just Bihar.

Chronically listed as one of India’s poorest states, Bihar isn’t usually associated with spiritual revival. Its news cycle instead tallies droughts, floods, fatal encephalitis outbreaks, and the violent aftershocks of a failed Maoist insurgency.

Following Anand, we plodded through abandoned sand mines. We stepped over railroad tracks. Inert villages slipped by, hollowed out by urban migration. In granaries, families hand-cranked large mechanical fans to generate a breeze for threshing their harvest. The Biharis, though, are ritually kind. They offer a cup of well water, a spot of shade, a narcotic betel nut to chew on the way. A day’s walk from the global tourist bubble of Bodh Gaya, where lamas broadcast meditation tips on YouTube, the world grows so insular that young village boys, peering up at me, exclaimed, “Look at that face! Have you ever seen a face like that?”

“What our people and the government don’t realize,” Anand told us, in frustration, “is that they are living on top of a global treasure—inside a living museum.”

Anand isn’t Buddhist. He was a Hindu by birth and is an empiricist by nature. Mostly, he is a proud Bihari.

The middle-class son of a military father and a housewife mother, Anand studied engineering and hoped to become a fighter pilot. But his curiosity kept drawing him to the mounds of Nalanda. The grassy hillocks are rubble from the powerful Magadha empire, whose kings funded the world’s first Buddhist monasteries, more than two millennia ago. Anand began poring through early travellers’ accounts of his homeland’s largely forgotten past. His hero is Xuanzang, an adventurous Chinese monk who travelled to India, in the seventh century, to study the roots of Buddhism. Working as a pilgrimage interpreter and cultural consultant, Anand became an unlikely Buddhologist. An entry on his blog, announcing his purported discovery of Ratnagiri Rock, and citing a fifth-century Chinese monk named Faxian, contains paragraphs like this:

According to Faxian the rock was 2 Li (400mts-700mts) north of the place where Sujātā, the village girl offered rice-gruel (milk-rice) to Siddhārtha. The place of offering food by Sujātā was 2 Li north of where Siddhārtha went to bathe-in river Nairaňjaňa. And, the bathing place was 3 Li west of the spot where Siddhārtha took austerities.

Anand has compiled hundreds of such waypoints in his Buddha-trail database. He is a keen admirer of his predecessors, the nineteenth-century British archeologists whose excavations proved that Buddhism was a South Asian idea. (Earlier scholars had maintained, based on curly-headed statues, that the Buddha was Ethiopian.) “The British were colonizers,” Anand said, “but they gave India the Buddha.”

“And they took everything they found away to London,” Agarwal, the river conservationist, said.

When we walked into a village called Lohjara, every household seemed to wave at Anand. He was hailed for pressuring the local police into investigating the theft of the village’s stone Buddha. The weathered statue, contemplating eternity in the lotus position, had been sitting in a local field for generations. In 2014, art thieves hefted the heavy sculpture into a car trunk and made off into the night. Two years later, acting on a tip, officers raided a nearby warehouse and found the Buddha packed for export. “We felt very bad those two years,” Rattan Pandey, a village elder, recalled. “We protested to the authorities to recover it immediately. We even blocked the roads.”

The restored Buddha was anchored with steel hoops beneath a village tree. The statue’s face was hacked off centuries ago, possibly by a Turkic soldier. Pandey worshipped the figure as Nakti Shiva, or Noseless Shiva, a mutilated version of the Hindu god.

We climbed the Jethian valley, plucking tart berries from jujube trees. According to the explorer-monk Xuanzan, a local man had tried to measure the Buddha’s height when he visited the place, but gauging the immense soul by any earthly means had proved impossible. In frustration, the skeptic had thrown down his bamboo yardstick—which sprouted to green life. Canebrakes still feathered Jethian’s high ravines. There were also faded village posters advertising Anand’s first effort at resuscitating the sacred landscapes of Bihar—a pilgrim’s walk organized with a charity from California.

A remote mountain road patrolled by rhesus monkeys led us to Rajgir, the former capital of the Magadha empire. The area was a bewildering Venn diagram of India’s singular spiritual history: Jain caves, Hindu temples, Muslim shrines, Ashokan stupas. Anand was well-known here, too. At Vulture’s Peak, a shrine where the Buddha taught his Heart Sutra—“Form is only emptiness, emptiness only form”—a crowd of touts, stevedores, rickshaw drivers, and cold-drink venders ringed Anand. They complained about being bullied by a pilgrimage mafia. He advised them to unionize.

On day four, we limped into Nalanda under clouds the color of polished lead. Anand showed us around. At its peak, Nalanda, in central Bihar, was the largest center of Buddhist learning in the world. It housed as many as ten thousand student monks. They argued about Buddhist doctrine and studied cosmology, astronomy, and art. Scores of villages nearby were dedicated to feeding resident scholars. Nalanda’s graduates helped carry Buddhism to Tibet and points along the Silk Road. “They used big mirrors to reflect light onto the Buddha statues inside temples,” Anand said, highlighting the monastic center’s architectural wonders.

But the manicured ruins felt comatose. Bhatia, the journalist, unfurled her colorful Tibetan pennant—the only touch of color on Nalanda’s barren squares.

How Buddhism ghosted away from its Indian source, between seven and nine centuries ago, remains one of the great mysteries in the history of religion. The Hindu nationalists now in power in New Delhi take an official stance: they insist that Muslim hordes from Central Asia—first Turkic invaders and later the Mughals—wiped out the pacifist Buddhists at sword-point. The general who razed Nalanda, Bakhtiyar Khalji, couldn’t even read the millions of Buddhist manuscripts he torched. But other scholars, Anand included, believe the reality is more complex. For centuries, Buddhism’s influence was waning in India. The monasteries created a brain drain, sapping innovation. The monks grew isolated from the people. Hinduism and Islam attracted more followers. It was as if Buddhism evanesced the same way that its master teacher did. The Buddha reputedly died, at age eighty, near what is today Kushinagar, in Uttar Pradesh. His ashes were taken from the scene of his life and scattered far across the Buddhist world.

According to some scriptures, the Buddha spent a week “walking a long way up and down in joy and ease” after attaining enlightenment. Our own little walking party sputtered to an end at the Nalanda bus stop. Bhatia left for Sikkim. Anand returned to his base, at Bodh Gaya. Only Agarwal and I slogged on—toward the Brahmaputra River. A dense ground fog hugged the fields, making navigation difficult. We stumbled along sodden canal trails. Crows appeared and vanished in the white. Anand had asked, before we parted, for endurance-walking advice. I’d forgotten to tell him that, on any long walk, he will get lost. And that being a little lost isn’t bad. It helps you stay awake. And being found is overrated.

                                                                                             —PAUL SALOPEK