#someone save me -combusts into flames-

[kvlen]

♡

[bruh-anator3000]

To Skrill or Not to Skrill

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A/n:... drag...nn... OKAY look i KNOW i should finish all my Viktor wips, esp The Lab Inspector's Daughter one BUT... um, well, skrunkly priorities have changed. My skrunkly, babygirl, the blorbo, the boi: the most insane viking in the Archieplego. Dagur the Deranged. He hath eaten the Viktor worms and started writhing on my brain himself. The madlad.

I WILL WRITE FOR VIKTOR AGAIN!! DON'T WORRY!! But Dagur wants to be written for first. For now.

Summary: Dagur didn't just... leave you, right? You led him and the Hunters to the exact spot your calculations had said the beast would be. The further you got into the cave, however, the less the others followed. Leaving you completely alone. Well, besides the dragon.

Pairing: Dagur x GN!Reader

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: 'Trapped' in an ice cave, Hypothermia!! Near death experience? Dragons, Stupid Ryker, insert Micheal Scott's 'you've been di-frib-u-lated!,' Derangedness duh, Dagur refers to himself as 'Daddy' and the deadly dragon as 'baby,' accidental Hiccup/Dragon Riders hate (but for good reason in the story i swear), cringe stuttering, possible part 2 👀? (We all know how good I am at that)

MOST IMPORTANTLY: I haven't written for Dagur before so if he seems OOC, that's on me. Please let me know how I can make Dagur seem more like Dagur, i would love some advice on it.

Okay, that should be it! I hope you enjoy <3

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"He didn't just abandon me," Your shallow breaths turned to frost in front of your face as you continuously bashed the hilt of your sword against the thinning ice. As much as you wanted to believe your words, he did ignore his father when he went missing and simply took control instead.

"I mean, I'm valuable!" You tried to convince yourself as the ice finally gave in with a sharp crack. Your hilt judded through the hole you made, numb fingers nearly dropping your blade. You couldn't feel the lower part of your body, shivering violently as you awkwardly scuffled your sword on the other side of the ice. Making the weapon parallel to the wall, you began to smash the ice from the other side, trying to pull the sword back towards you.

"I found you, after all." You looked up through your lashes, which were slowly weighing down by snow and ice. The dark purple and grey of the Skrill looked down upon you. His breath fogging the wall of ice separating you two.

He watched you, eyes narrowed but curious. From what you could see, most of his limbs were slowly breaking free of the ice he had been banished to. Wings twitching and claws curling. You hit the icy wall once more. You could feel your fingers lock up around the rod of your sword. The joints in your arms stiffening with the cold. As you yanked your arm back once more, the ice broke. Leaving you to fall on your butt.

Laying on the cold stone of rock-hard ice, you sighed. Your breath turning to ice in front of you. Maybe you should've stayed with the Dragon Riders. With another frozen sigh, you knew that would've led to this exact same situation. Well, not exactly the same.

Hiccup left you to boil and burn in a cavern deep inside an active volcano. Dagur left you to freeze up and become an artifact for the next generation to find. You weren't sure what was worse.

However, Dagur had saved you from combusting into a pile of flame and ash. Maybe Hiccup will turn the tide, and find you, trying to free the Skrill he set into ice. For Dagur.

No, he would probably let you freeze over, too.

You tried to pull yourself up to your feet. You only managed to sit up and rest against the wall. Your bones rattled against each other, you could bite your own tongue off with how hard your teeth clattered. Huddling into yourself, you prayed to Odin someone would find you before you froze to death.

Looking over your arms as you held your knees close, you saw the Skrill ram the horn on his nose against the wall he was sealed behind. You shut your eyes, breathing out once more as you felt ice build around your lungs.

...

Dagur stood before the cave, torch high in his hold as he waited. Eyes narrowed, he held the flame to the dark entrance.

"Where's your little friend, Dagur?" Ryker saddled up beside the Berserker with a dark chuckle. "Think the Dragon Riders finally came back for them?"

Dagur scowled. "They wouldn't do that." He stated simply. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He saved you, after all. You wouldn't just turn on him like that... right?

"Then why are my men back but not them?" Ryker watched the viking from the corner of his eye. Dagur was simply too easy to rile up. And he was waiting for the moment he slipped up, so Viggo would finally see how utterly useless he was to their mission.

"Why can't your men find my Skrilly but they can?" Dagur shot back. You had told him the only information you knew about his Skrill was the fact Hiccup had sealed it away into an iceberg. With that, you had managed to pinpoint the beast's exact location. Which none of Ryker's men seemed to even comprehend.

Ryker let out a hard huff. "You have another hour, then we leave," He leaned in close, breath rotting. "With your friend, or not."

Dagur only glared back, eyes burning in the larger viking's skull. How he wanted to bash Ryker's head open. For more than one reason, but the top contender was how he spoke of you. A Dragon Rider turned hunter wasn't a very trustworthy transformation but Dagur liked you.

The vengeance written on your face when he found you, betrayed by his brother. It reminded him of the rage he felt daily for how Hiccup had thrown him into jail for three long years. You said you were a dragon rider and his first instinct was to grab your dragon and run. But you had no dragon, only a shattered sword and the outlines of welts beginning to bubble up from the heat on your skin.

When he asked if you wanted rescuing, throwing on his best smile and pose, you laid back down and accepted your fate. That's when he knew he'd like you. So stubborn, you'd rather melt than let a devilishly handsome Berserker save you. A sense of humor he enjoyed poking at until it turned into slight aggravation.

Now, he was aggravated. The torch felt so... throwable in his clenching fist. It wasn't you... it's just that you weren't here. He needed you here, wanted you standing besides him with his Skrill in tow.

Glancing back, he watched Ryker and his lousy men riffle around. Some were walking circles around the boats. Others shoved each other around, acting like there was nothing wrong. Like this was all a game to them. Ryker may be able to dispose of his men like day old fish, but Dagur wouldn't do that - not to you, at least.

He could throw Savage overboard any day. Throw him as far as he wanted, deep into the vast blue of the ocean. He would laugh, watching him scramble back on board. But he wouldn't throw you over the deck. He's considered it, he won't lie, but he could only ever bring himself to grab the back of your shirt, threateningly.

You'd just laugh. Everytime he would grumble and yank you around by the sleeve or tunic, you would laugh. It was cute. And it was infectious, too. Whatever he was angry at, Dagur would have to let it go and laugh with you.

But now, you weren't here. He wasn't able to laugh his boiling anger off. You were still somewhere in the icy caves. And Ryker wasn't going to be any help. Like always, it looked like Dagur was going to have to do this himself.

He really hoped his Skrill was in there, or else you'd be making him look like a fool. He also really hoped you were still alive. But he also really didn't want to look like a fool.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ryker's grating voice called out, making Dagur's whole body twitch with annoyance. By the Norns, he hated that man's voice, and endless proding!

"Getting my Skrill back!" He shouted over his shoulder. If it weren't for the iron grip he had on his torch, Dagur would've sent it straight through the Dragon Hunter's head, hearing Ryker laugh at him. If only the Skrill could come barreling out of the cavern just then. Like Hiccup and his stupid Night Fury always seemed to do.

The ice cave was just as expected - long, dark, and very cold. Barely five minutes into his search, Dagur started shaking like a fish out of water. Violently trembling from the cold. He debated on turning back. Let go of this Skrill dream entirely, that perhaps it was an unhealthy obsession he developed and would benefit him in letting it go.

The thought made him laugh. Loudly and sporadically, his hysteria bounced off the endless tunnel walls. He giggled to himself when he heard his laugh come back to him. Sounded just as insane as he remembered.

Another sound followed the dying echoes of his laugh. One that sent a full body shiver through the Deranged. That same howl, like a screech of home. A dragon's. His dragon.

Bursting into a full on sprint, Dagur ran down the cave, guffawing with excitement. He's dreamt of this day for years, the situation of reuniting with his dearest Skrill playing over in his head like a bard who only knew how to play one song. He would soon use his beloved beast to destroy little Hiccup in a blast of pure lightning. Another drool-worthy ideal that he never stopped wishing for.

Dagur turned the last twist of the tunnel before the beast of royal purple and toned grey became visible. Wide mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth bared before him. The metallic spiky crown the dragon wore was even more daunting in the unusual lighting of fire reflected against frozen water. A sight so enthralling, Dagur's mind went blank.

Mind flooded with excitement, Dagur broke out into a large smile and simply gawked. The cold didn't exist in this moment as he stared at his precious baby. So giddy that he raised both his hands up with a loud, concerning cry and spun in a circle.

"That's right!" He hollered to no one in particular. "Dagur and Skrilly, reunited once more! Ohohoho!" He laughed with his entire body, moving wildly in his joy.

The ripple of dark scales had Dagur turning back around. The Skrill curled into itself as a bright white hue began to glow from his mouth. Drawing his sword, he held it pointed to the beast.

"It's alright, baby." He tried shushing the Skrill, cooing in his gravelly voice. "Daddy Dagur's here for you."

The Skrill had better ideas. He shot a bolt of lightning barely a foot away from Dagur.

He was about to shout. Ready to lose his temper that his own darling would try to hurt him, but that sharp green gaze caught on something beneath those steely purple legs. A figure lumped under the dragon. It seemed like sweet Skrilly was protecting this nearly dead thing.

As another blast of lightning began to charge in the dragon's mouth, Dagur dropped his stance for a moment. His eyes fell to a sword that was laying far from the other two. The same sword he often sparred with. Grabbed along with his own, to hand to his partner in battle. The same sword he's had to help rewrap over 10 times because, for whatever reason, you couldn't keep the yak leather tight around the hilt.

Your sword.

Wait a second. That's you?

He tried to get a better look but the Skrill opened his mouth even wider, ready to blast again. Thank Odin he was a Berserker. Directing Skrills was in his blood.

Dagur waved his sword back and forth until the Skrill could only focus on it. Making sure those slitted pupils were trained on his blade, he lowered the sword and threw it across the ice. Away from you. Unfortunately, the beast stayed put, but his eyes were trained on the sword Dagur had to sacrifice. Skrill's are painfully loyal to those who treat them well. And saving them from an icy prison would be a perfect reason why the dragon refused to move.

Dagur made a mental note to yell at you for gaining his Skrilly's trust before him. After he saved you, of course.

"Come on, baby, work with me here." Dagur tried to reason as he lowered himself closer to the ground. "They're with me. And you like them, right? So you'll like me, too."

The fire-lightning sparked back up in his mouth the second Dagur tried to take another step. He gritted his teeth, trying to think of another way to get to you. They both looked at the torch he held.

Dagur wasn't about to burn the Skrill but he desperately needed to get to you. You had been in here for hours. How long have you been unconscious for? The next place he might see you is in Valhalla. He really didn't want to risk death in order to see you again.

Waving his torch around like he'd done his sword, Dagur began to walk around his Skrill. Every time the dragon tried to lunge forward, he would jump right back at him. The fire discouraging the Skrill just enough to push him away from you. Only the strong and unbelievably gorgeous wing of him hovered above you. Dagur could work with that.

"Hey, wakey wakey!" Dagur dropped to his knees beside you, his free hand reaching for your wrist. His hands always felt so rough compared to your skin. It made him feel... embarrassed that his hold could grate on yours.

As he ran his hand down your arm, panic started seeping in. You were as cold as the floor beneath the two of you. Your fingers were beginning to turn blue. He couldn't see you breathing, not when you were so curled in on yourself.

"Hey," He set his torch on the ground. He didn't care if it was burning out, he needed you alive. "Stay with me." His voice started to raise in tone as he softly grabbed your shoulders. Rolling you on your back, you moved far too loosely. He could tell you no longer had control of your limbs.

Eyes growing wide, Dagur cupped your face with one of his hands. The apple of your cheeks - where pretty freckles, often paired with a slight red the sun always burned onto your skin - was tinting blue. And so was your precious nose. That wasn't good.

Oh Thor, this wasn't good.

Dagur pressed his ear to your chest, silently begging for a breath. He could settle for a heartbeat, a faint one, even! He just needed to know you were still alive!

His search was interrupted when he was scooped into the air. He scrambled to grab you, holding you close to his chest as he started to raise and slide backwards. Letting out an uneasy laugh, his back hit a rod that winded him.

Keeping his arms tight around your freezing torso, Dagur looked down. Sitting on purple scales against dark spikes, he realized all too late what was happening.

"Easy, dragon!" He pleaded with a yelp. The Skrill roared and stood on his hind legs. He scrambled to seat you in front of him, awkwardly sliding behind your limp self and reaching around to grab the crown of the dragon. His left hand barely gripped onto a spike when the Skrill took off with a gut-deep growl.

Dagur's screams came out like his laughs, sporadic and changing in tone. And frantic. Very- extremely frantic. The light blue colors of ice blurred past him, cold wind whipping through his red hair. Cold quickly shifted into warmer air. Ice no longer surrounding him, turning into the sand of the beach outside.

He could barely make out the shouts of the hunters over his own. His next sight was crashing face first into sand. Tumbling further until he hit one of the ship posts. Taking at least one other man down with him.

"What in Thor's name-?" Ryker ran out from his ship. He was ready to shout and yell at the morons he was given to work with for being so idiotic. His loud voice died deep in his throat when his eyes landed on the beast. He was certain Dagur had gone insane, far more insane than normal when he trusted an ex Dragon Rider to lead him to the rarest dragon besides the Night Fury.

Purple and grey scales glimmered in the sun. Sharp teeth nearly chomping one of his hunters in half for getting too close. Metallic spikes running down the dragon's back. Ryker gawked with a dropped jaw.

"It's the Skrill!" One of the hunters called out. "Chain him!" Some screamed. "Cage him!" Yelled another. But Dagur beat them all.

"No one touches MY Skrill!" He bellowed, running back over to 'his skrill.'

Instead of throwing the nets over the dragon, Ryker watched with a scowl as Dagur skidded to a stop in front of the beast. His eyebrows shot up with surprise as the Berserker pulled you off the Skrill's back. Maybe having a Dragon Rider on the team wasn't such a bad idea.

Or maybe it was, since you flopped over into Dagur's hold like a ragdoll. You didn't ride that dragon! You were simply stuck on its back.

"Come on, please." Dagur set you on the sand gently, keeping your head steady. The words stumbled past his lips before he could reign in his emotions. "I need you." His voice was barely a whisper but it still cracked with pain. He didn't want to lose you. He couldn't.

His hand rested on your chest, still desperate to find a sign of life. Yet again, the Skrill had a better idea and knocked Dagur backwards. Falling on his butt, Dagur wanted to kick the beast in the snout. He was trying to make sure you were alive! What did the dragon think it was doing?!

The sun blacked out as clouds began to accumulate above the docks. The back of the Skrill began to arch, the metal rods on his back starting to vibrate. Bright and blinding, sparking lightning burned in his mouth.

Dagur watched in horror as the Skrill roared. His eyes nearly shot out of his head when the Skrill let his head drop onto your chest. Sending a Thor's worthy amount of electricity right through your body.

Static cracked the air, loud enough to leave everyone's ears ringing. As soon as they appeared, the dark storm clouds dispersed and the Skrill stepped back. Bursts of lightning still danced on the beast, weaving between the tall stakes of metal on his back. He watched you, eyes narrowed, and the tip of his nose brushing up your legs.

A scream of pure rage began to bubble in Dagur's throat. His beast, his Skrill, had just killed you!? Sending a bolt through you and probably charing your body inside and out?! Like yak on a stick!?

The sand crunched in between his fists, arms twitching with restrained anger. His two favorite things combined, resulting in one of them dead. He was going to wear that Skrill's skull as a helmet!

The silent building tension between the hunters, Dagur, and the dragon was interrupted by a violent choke.

You sat up abruptly, gasping and choking on nothing. Your arms locked around your knees, still shivering from the ice you once laid on. Whether you were deep in shock, too literally shocked, or far too cold, you failed to realize that you were out of the cave.

It took Dagur three seconds before he was bolting to your side. He was trying to be gentle, but his desperation seemed to make his movements too rigid. You saw him from the corner of your eye, and in a blind panic, smacked the ever loving Odin out of him.

A gasp went around the surronding hunters as Dagur stood back, still facing the way you hit him with his cheek beginning redden. You blinked a couple of times before letting out a relieved cry and jumped up to hug him.

"By Thor, I thou- thought you ha- ad left m- me!" Your words were skewered by your clattering teeth. He felt far warmer in your hold than you remembered. Not that you were complaining, you simply dug yourself into him even further.

Dagur stood still for a few more moments, emerald eyes glaring at you through the corners. It was then you realized what you had just done. You let your hold on him slip as you stared up at him, trembling from the cold - and new-found fear.

Two steps back was all you made it before Dagur's thick arms caught around you. Pulling you into his chest, he squeezed you tight enough to practically crush you. With this confirmation, you wrapped your own arms around him and sighed shakily.

"I wouldn't have left you." His breath tickled your ear, beard scratching against your cheek as he spoke low enough so only you could hear. He pulled back, and set you in front of him with a firm grip on your shoulders. "Let's get you into warmer clothes, especially out of that armour." He declared with a flick to your bracers.

You glanced down at your outfit. Your arms seemed to only grow colder if you held them around your chestplate. Nodding, you fell into his side. He wrapped an arm over your shoulders and helped you move towards the boats.

A sharp poke hit you in the back, followed by a low growl. Turning around, you saw the beast you had been chasing all week.

"Is th- that the Sk- skrill?" Your eyes went wide as you stared back at the dragon. Dagur nodded.

"He likes you," He pinched your ear lightly, making you pull away slightly. He always loved your little reactions. "You were supposed to just free it, not bond with it." The red head stuck his lower lip out in a pout.

"I fr- reed it-z?" Your tongue stiffened on the last syllable, making it sound like a buzz. He laughed and patted your back, urging you to keep walking.

"Yup. He flew you out here." You looked around with new eyes, the earlier shock beginning to fade.

"We're outside?"

"ENOUGH-" You flinched at Dagur's outburst. He held his other hand out, and took a breath. "Enough questions. Just- back to the boat."

You nodded and accepted his unofficial apology by continuing to lean into him. He was so muscular, it felt like you were walking alongside a tree. A very intimidating, genuine, and passionate tree log. Dagur was far more handsome than a log, too.

Your hazy gaze stared up at him from under his arm. If he could tell you were staring, he didn't show it. He wore his usual smug smirk, a gentle squeeze around you, but nothing more.

"The Skrill comes with us." Dagur held out his hand to the oncoming hunters. They slowed to a stop, green axes and chains in their lowered hands. Sharing a confused look, they turned to Ryker, who finally got off from his post on his ship.

"What makes you think that, exactly?" Ryker asked, eyes falling behind you to the beast.

Dagur hemmed and hawed as he removed his arm from you, guiding you to rest on the Skrill for support. The dragon purred, rough and deep, as you rested your hand on his neck.

"Oh I don't know," Dagur tapped his chin, his other hand counting something on his fingers. "Maybe because, well," He chuckled. "I FOUND IT?!" He shouted in Ryker's face, green eyes bugging out of his head. His nostrils flaring in his face.

Ryker stared down at him with a bored brow. Dagur glared right back, breathing heavily. With a roll of his eyes, Ryker backed up with a raised hand. His men backed off as well.

Dagur turned back to you, nodding to the large boat. He hit Ryker's shoulder as you three passed. The Skrill bared his teeth at the lead Dragon Hunter, sensing the discomfort he was causing. Growl vibrating his throat as you patted the dragon, a gentle reminder that you were fine.

You followed Dagur to the ship with small steps. Your tremors made it hard to stay upright, and the Skrill could only help you so much. Dagur threw his head back with a sigh when he noticed the distance between you two.

He trotted back and pulled you into his side once again, keeping an arm around your shoulders. The Skrill walked along your other side, offering more support, if you needed it. Together, they helped you to the ship and into Dagur's quarters.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think about the claims that Aang’s anti killing Is hypocritical because of the Blue Spirit’s rampage and it’s possible that people died when Aang would defend himself and his allies?

If we were to apply real world physics, biology or just common sense to the story, the show would not happen because Aang would have died inside that iceberg - no scratch that, there wouldn't be a story because HUMANS CAN'T CONTROL THE GODDAMN ELEMENTS!

Katara, Aang and Sokka would have also died, or at least being severly injured, with lots of broken bones, and possibly paralyzed from the waist/neck down after their attempt of using the Omashu mail system as a rollercoaster.

Firebenders should accidentally burn themselves all the time since their flames are always either dangerous close to their skin or directly touching it as they are created. Don't even get me started on lightning, especially with stuff like Iroh redirecting lightning FROM THE GODDAMN SKY. Toph should have also gotten severe burns in the finale because of that full-body armor she made with ABSURDLY HOT METAL and that was in direct contact with her skin.

Realistically, Sokka should have not have been able to help evacuate an entire village with not previous plan to do so like we saw him do in "Jet." The man Haru and Katara saved in "Imprisoned" should have been very hurt after all those rocks fell on him, and the fact that no died in that metal ship after all the COAL they threw at FIREBENDERS is absurd.

When the pirates put explosives in Zuko's ship, there's a split second where we can see he created a fire-shield - that would in now way in hell be able to allow him to just be walking around the following episode, with just a few superficial burns that are already healed in season two.

In the season one finale, Zhao very clearly aimed his flames at BOTH koi fish, yet only the one with the moon spirit died. Everything also becomes black and white for no real reason since the moonlight has nothing to do with how humans see things

For fuck's sake, the show full on says "AANG DIED AND KATARA BROUGHT HIM BACK FROM THE DEAD!"

Avatar is a children's show AND a cartoon. It operates on cartoon logic - aka, unless death is explicitly mentioned (Gyatso, Kya, Aang) or VERY heavily implied (Zhao, Jet, Combustion Man) we are supposed to assume that, somehow, everyone survived. The fact that fandom can accept EVERYTHING being unrealistic, then complains that people Aang fought survived the impossible just screams "I don't like that this character in a kid's show doesn't go around murdering every enemy in his path!" or "I don't like Aang because he got in the way of my ship, so I'll take any excuse to pretend he is actually a terribly written character everyone should hate!"

As for the Koizilla situation in particular, lets not forget that the very next episode has Aang having nightmares about it and showing that he very clearly does not know how to control the Avatar State, how it works, or even what it is. Roku literally shows up to EXPLAIN that stuff to him. HOW can we hold Aang accountable for something that was not his decision?

Once again, because of cartoon logic, the only sort of confirmed death was Zhao - and that one was 100% on the Ocean Spirit, since he had already split from Aang.

Not to mention "this person accidentally died because of one of my actions" is not always the same as "this person died because I chose to kill them." It's like the difference between a car crash where the driver wasn't able to stop in time VS literally shooting someone in the face.

Plus, in the finale Aang even reached the conclusion that, if he had no alternative, he WOULD kill Ozai, even though that would obviously take a great psychological/spiritual toll on him, because it would be ONE LIFE TAKEN AS A WAY TO SAVE THOUNSANDS, and even before that he had no problem with things like Sokka killing Combustion Man or even full on admiting "Fire Lord Ozai is a terrible person and the world would probably be a better place without him".

It's pretty clear that, even if Avatar DID go there and said "sometimes people died in battles against the Gaang", it would still NOT contradict Aang's beliefs, and therefore he is NOT a hypocrite, and the idiots of the fandom can die mad about it.

[kill-your-fics]

Maybe some bad girl/biker willlow rizzing up a nerd Wilson

The guy seemed wildly out of place, and she noticed immediately. He wasn't short by any means, actually somewhat lanky, but his obvious discomfort at being here made him seem smaller, as if he was trying to shrink into himself like a turtle and avoid anyone's eye. That was fine by Willow. Too many men had confidence that was wholly unearned, in her opinion.

She strode over in an easy gait, not at all like a girl on a mission. He saw her heading in his general direction and she registered the play of emotions on his face. Confusion- was she looking at him? Surprise- she was looking at him. Panic- she was coming this way. And then he looked away, as if she couldn't see him if he couldn't see her. Or perhaps he was just willing her to leave him alone. No such luck this time, pal.

"Hey."

"Oh! Hello, there."

"What's someone like you.. doing here?" Direct, to the point. She tilted her head to emphasize the question, gesturing with one hand at their surroundings. He mumbled something about being brought along by a friend.

"A friend, huh? Where are they now? Did they ditch you?" Her voice was a touch too challenging and unsympathetic for it to be a wholly genuine question. So be it, let him know she didn't believe him.

If he looked somewhat like a turtle before, he was now a deer in the headlights, blinking twice before replying, yet still stumbling over his words. In her infinite grace, she decided to save him from his floundering.

"Hey, it's fine. I'm here alone, too- this place has the best drinks in town, huh?"

He blushed lightly and admitted he didn't know much about any such drinks. So! That topic was dead in the water. She switched tactics, asking him about his interests. His face visibly brightened.

"I'm studying chemistry- I'm a chemist! Well, going to be."

Willow remembered only one thing from chemistry: the beautiful, if a bit nerdy, Bunsen burner. For want of one, or a better topic of conversation, she pulled out her lighter and flicked it on. "What do you know about this?"

He stared at the small flame, dumbfounded. "Huh?"

"About fire, I mean."

"Oh! Of course! Combustion! A wonderful example of an exothermic chemical reaction, and one of the-"

"Wait, wait." She cut him off. "Exothermic? Like an ant?"

"Oh, ah, no. That's an exoskeleton, I think. 'Exothermic' means outward heat, literally. By which we mean, a chemical reaction that produces heat, or light, or releases some other form of energy. In fire, the visible light produced is called the flame."

This guy was no good at eye contact, but it didn't feel rude. He would nerviously glance at her for a moment before looking away as he talked, as if the mere sight of her was overwhelming. As if she were the sun. She liked the comparison.

"Oh! My name is Wilson, by the way."

She nodded once. "Good to know. You can call me Willow. Now let me get this straight: exothermic means... a reaction that releases heat? Is that so?" Before he could respond, she reached out, brushing her fingers against his cheek. As she predicted, his eyes snapped over to her at the touch, and his skin blushed pink. "Like this?"

[lil-tokyo-42]

Fired Up! Shinmon Benimaru x F!Y/N

(REAL QUICK THIS BENIMARU IS NOT FROM: how i was reincarnated as a slime! THIS IS FROM FIRE FORCE IF YOU DID NOT SEE THE POLL OR THE PEOPLE I WILL WRITE FOR!!) I felt like making this anyway soooo

WARNINGS: cussing, killing an infernal(s) or just killing in general, mentions of alcohol/drinking, use of weapons/fire, spoilers for anyone who has not watched Fire Force on Funimation, Hulu, Or Crunchy roll and any other site!

-You were born in Tokyo, Asakusa or well known as Company 7's Jurisdiction of the Fire force who are split into 8 companies (if it's not 8 let me know pls-) You were born in 7th, Now being a well grown woman you still had a lot to learn. How to control your powers, try and be a fire soldier for the 7th, and get to know Shinmon Benimaru. Your captain, All you knew was that he was a compound fire soldier and well strong. You never got to know him personally and he barely knew you as well so to start it all back we'll go through your lil backstory a bit!

-Your Father became single ever since your mother left him because she cheated on him. Harsh right? He was a part of your life mostly because he kept drowning his sorrows and problems in alcohol with his friends and kept doing silly shit all the time. One night he put you to rest and tucked you in bed then went to go see his friends

-Then...That's when the mania started you woke up with your father screaming because he's been impaled with a long sharp object that soon disappeared into the floor with a light hollow red circle surrounding it. The wound your father has had soon started to go up in flames. You jump out of bed to help your father but it was Too. Late. He had died, in your tiny arms, The fire wasn't extinguished though and it soon set the house on fire.

-About 12 minutes later Special Fire Force company 2 arrived and brought you two out of the burning house. It wasn't too late before you saw your dad's corpse. Burned, Impaled, The look on his face looked like he was still alive and needed someone to put an end to his pain. The man who kept you by his side while you watched your poor father go to the ambulance said "I'm sorry to say this but, it's possible that you caused the death of your Dad..." Those were the only words you heard out of his mouth. "What do you mean!? I'd NEVER EVER kill my father!" You said with shock and confusion "I said it's possible! There were no signs of infernal combustion anywhere around your house. You were the only one who could have caused it...I'm sorry." You broke down to a state of tears while the man comforted you and watched the home you grew up in die down from the flames.

-"Aaaand that's my backstory! I'm pretty much over it now." You told Tamaki who looked heartbroken at the sad past you just told her. "Oh my gosh! That must have been traumatizing to you, even at a young age!" You looked at her then at the ground. "Yeah, but i'm still so damn nervous! I'm gonna work for company 7.." You looked overwhelmed a bit, I mean you heard about Benimaru Shinmon, THE destroyer of Asakusa a bit. It was mostly scary stories or made up ones. "Hey, it's okay! I mean yeah my captains is a bit intimidating too! So you're not alone." You calmed down a bit "Okay Tami...I think i'm good now!"It was about ready to start the Rookie Fire Soldier Games and the objective was to destroy the fake infernals and save the people in some building, looked easy enough.

-It was about to start and a boy with black hair kept staring at the big ass weapon you had summoned from the ground by doing some tracing of a circle and triangles. It was even taller than you that creeped him out

(Context: you are a 2nd & 3rd gen like Waka so u can ignite and control your flames and put them on the weapon above, you also had the ability to make the Torch (Weapon name) wider and taller so max height it at least a 2 story house. To make it appear you had to trace a triangle in a circle with 5 triangles surrounding it. I hope this is understood! if not just tell me)

-You held it with pride even though it was the same thing that killed your father, your mindset was focused and ready to fight. The flames of the guy who said go lit up, it was time. You jumped up and spun your Torch around and went to the top of the building, punctured a hole and jumped in.

(TIME SKIP if u watched the episode you know what happened!)

-The building was being put out and you were about to leave but saw Company 8th's captain talking to the black haired boy, if you recall correctly he basically had the same backstory as you. You asked the captain if you could spend the night at his company, it was already too dark to go to Asakusa anyways. The place was nice, there was a lot of gym equipment around it though. The girls were excited to see another girl with them but turned a bit sad when you said you had to leave in the morning. They gave you a bed and blanket and you could say this was the best sleep you've gotten in a while.

-Next day was Asakusa, Company 7th's jurisdiction. Your home.

The fact that this took DAYS to make because i've been lacking sleep, have buckets of laundry, AND i gotta go somewhere tommorow so i gotta get this all done. But im glad i finished the story.

[friendlessghoul]

So.. This was an Ask I received and accidentally deleted, but they were asking about why the titles were describing scenes, were there missing scenes and how could scenes be missing.

I just want to say I'm not exactly an expert in this but I can try and explain best to my knowledge.

(and oh my god this turned out very long)

There's various reasons why silent films have missing footage. One is just due to the film decaying; nitrate film was highly flammable and if not stored properly would get gunky and film would become ruined in parts. Sometimes they were able to save pieces of the film.

The early motion-picture industry primarily used film stock made of nitrocellulose, commonly called nitrate film. This film is flammable and produces its own oxygen supply as it burns. Nitrate fires burn rapidly and cannot be extinguished, as they are capable of burning even under water.[1] Nitrocellulose is also subject to thermal decomposition and hydrolysis, breaking down over time in the presence of high temperatures and moisture. This decaying film stock releases nitrogen oxides that themselves contribute to the decay and make the damaged film burn more easily. Under the right conditions, nitrate film can spontaneously combust. In part because of substantial variability in the manufacturing of early film, considerable uncertainty exists about the circumstances necessary for self-ignition.[1] Sustained temperatures of 100 °F (38 °C) or higher, large quantities of nitrate film, increased humidity, poor ventilation, and aged or decaying film have all been considered risk factors. Most such fires in film archives have taken place in heat waves during summers, in closed facilities with limited ventilation, compounding several of these variables. Especially in confined areas, such fires can result in explosions. (source)

For the life of me I cannot find this next part of information, but *someone* was helping Buster transfer his nitrate films to preserve them to better film (I think that's what it was) that he had and went to some business for help. The guy flipped at them bringing nitrate films inside, and the guy begged him to do it saying something along the lines of- you see that guy out there? That's Buster Keaton and we need to preserve these films. Feeding them through the machines was difficult and slow because it kept clogging up the machines (and I think broke one?). There was also censorship problems. I noticed was with the Arbuckle/Keaton films, Chicago was either really strict or their records were really well kept. (idk) The Rough House - The Chicago Board of Censors cut the scene showing the theft of beads from the film.

Oh Doctor! -The Chicago Board required a cut of the scene where a man is pulling a women's skirt up to her knees.

Coney Island - The Chicago Board of Censors required a cut of a scene with a girl raising her dress above her knee. The original ending was considered racist by the mid-1920s and was cut from the film. Out West - the Chicago Board of Censors required a cut of the scene of arrows in man's back and their removal, man burning back with gas flames, and the shooting of the bartender.

Good Night, Nurse! - (this ones my favorite) - the Chicago Board of Censors cut, in Reel 1, Arbuckle kicking woman, Arbuckle putting foot on woman's posterior, and Arbuckle pulling dress off woman and exposing her figure. (the woman that Roscoe puts his foot on is Buster)

In the instance of Coney Island, we do have copies of both endings. (they're also on the DVDs). Now we have most of these despite the censorships, but that isn't always the case with other films. Moonshine was very fragmented, there were two types, one that was crisp with missing pieces, and a more complete print that was blurry and looks more like a negative. (there's also a lot of title cards which seems unusual to me)

Daydreams is...a mess.. there's still missing pieces of that film. "A restoration effort in 1995 recovered most of the footage, substituting stills and titles to fill the viewer in on the missing scenes." (source)

During that time, they would often describe the entire film in a review (they apparently didn't care about spoilers), which gives us a better idea of what happened in the films. In this case, Daydreams has a missing scene where Buster is working in a hospital.

Hard luck was a lost film until 1987, but even then they didn't have the ending gag that Buster called the greatest laugh-getting scene of his career. It was later discovered in a Russian archive print, I believe they found that in the mid 90s, and it's distorted (as you can see). There's also other instances like with The Navigator. Often they would preview films to audiences in towns to gauge how the film would perform. If it fell flat (like Seven Chances had) they go back and edit or add scenes. With the Navigator there are mentions in reviews of a scene-

"Then I started fixing the leak, but a school of fish came by, all going in the same direction except one poor little fish who tried and tried to cross their track and couldn't. I, seeing its plight, picked up a starfish, put it on my chest, whistled, and held up my hand at the school of fish. They stopped, I motioned the little fish to cross, he swam by, then I turned and signaled the school to pass on. They all went by, and I returned to the leak." (A Filmmakers Life- James Curtis pg 259),

but in screening the film, the audience didn't react well to it, so they cut it (after several screenings, not understanding why it didn't work). But in trailers, they kept that scene because it worked better. And then there were the fires. MGM had a massive vault fire (1965), as did Fox (1937) (among many others)

The Cameraman was at one point considered a lost film, destroyed in the 1965 MGM vault fire. However, a complete print was discovered in Paris in 1968.[19] Another print, of much higher quality, although missing some footage, was discovered in 1991.[19] The two prints were combined into a version which now is available. (source)

Another case with The Cameraman was- MGM writing department used the film to train new writers as a "perfectly constructed comedy" for decades, even wearing out their print.

There's also stuff about copyright laws (not getting into that), Rohaur, who was trying to preserve Buster's films had to rewrite intertitles, add canned music and alter crucial edits made by buster and his original cutters. (A Filmmakers Life - Curtis pg 616)

SO in ending this..In the beginning of film they didn't know how important these movies would become and they were not exactly taken care of. There are still silent films being discovered in all parts of the world, fragmented, sometimes attached to other films, and in various conditions. There are restoration projects to restore all silent films, and I have seen people raise money to help aid in this. (IBKS accepts donations to help support their nonprofit organization, which includes artifact preservation.)

Uh yeah.. I'm sure this isn't everything, but I hope this helps...

[books-and-catears]

I love your writing, I can't believe it took me so long to find you. You've gained a new fan. Here's a very silly little ask to make you giggle, just for fun if you want to (It's totally optional). The House of Lamentation is on FIRE! What order do you save the brothers in?

Oh my god, thank you I'm so honored 😭😭 Also yes this did not just make me giggle, this made me almost roll out of bed with laughter OMFG!

First let's think of how HOL was set on fire in the first place. There's a few possibilities to pick from.

1. One of the many candles used to light up the whole damn place (seriously when was the last time someone checked this place for safety violations) fell over and started a fire. Seriously Satan, STOP PUTTING CANDLES IN YOUR ROOM FULL OF BOOKS.

"But reading by candle light is a magical experience, MC, surely you-"

"No Satan, we cannot compromise safety for the indie aesthetic."

__________________________

2. Mammon tried to intentionally cause a small fire thinking they can all get a lot of insurance money after he learned about that in the human world.

"It's okay, MC, we're gonna get reimbursed for the damages!"

"Mammon, this is Devildom. Since when do we have insurance laws?"

__________________________

3. MC decided to try and make one of Solomon's cursed recipes in the HOL kitchen. The food burst into flames because it was ashamed to come into existence.

____________________________

4. One of Levi's consoles short circuited so bad that the PC caught on fire and Levi refused to call Lotan because all his devices and figurines would get drenched.

"I cannot call Lotan, MC! We have to take care of this ourselves! Else the whole house will be flooded!"

"WHEN HAS THAT EVER STOPPED YOU BEFORE?!"

___________________________

5. Asmo tried to make aesthetic upgrades to Mammon's car, including the car batteries because why not, and the next thing you know the car is burning. And are those...pink flames?!

"I don't even want to ask how, but how the hell Asmo?!"

"The fire simply liked my style so much it had to copy me!"

______________________________

6. Lucifer just combusts into flames due to all the stress after being rendered completely flammable by all the Demonus he's been drinking. He's just drunk and sitting there.

"Oh hello, MC *hic* How are you today?"

"Lucifer, you are on fire."

"Yes indeed. That's why *hic* I can't feel my headaches. *hic* What a relief."

________________________________

7. Belphie fell asleep next to the fireplace and the flames caught his tail somehow. Beel notices, picks Belphie up and rushes to Lucifer for help, while Belphie is STILL ASLEEP and the tail is just dragging along, setting fire to the carpets.

"Guys help! Belphie's tail is on fire!"

"And you are trying to set the rest of us on fire to join him?! And for the sake of our sanity, Belphie atleast wake up when you are literally IN FLAMES!"

Also I think this is the order I would save them in too. Satan, Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Lucifer, Beel-Belphie : I would like to put Beel higher on the list but I don't see him getting out of the house without his twin :')

[sylviareviar]

Previous - Next

Professor Laventon had taken the boy he'd found straight to Jubilife Village, where he knew the Galaxy Expedition Team had the resources to help the boy. Although Rowlet had flown off ahead of time, its presence was still startling to the members of the Galaxy Expedition Team, who couldn't quite get used to having a Pokémon present in the building that wasn't as well-behaved as Captain Cyllene's Abra.

As a result, many of the Security Corps guards flinched away from Rowlet, who had been screeching and hollering at the top of its mighty little lungs until someone did something. It finally took, ironically enough, Captain Cyllene's Abra to calm the Grass-type Pokémon down enough to give out orders.

"Professor Laventon found a weak young boy collapsed on Prelude Beach and is now trying to save him from choking on seawater and sand."

Upon hearing these words, Pesselle immediately began gathering a stretcher and emergency supplies, but Captain Cyllene stopped her.

"There's no time," she had said, a stern frown on her face. "Abra will use Teleport to bring him straight here. I will watch you prepare a bed for him. Abra can use me as a beacon."

It still felt strange, in all honesty. Pesselle was never really for or against Pokémon. At least, that's what she'd always thought. But seeing the Survey Corps Captain use her partner Pokémon's abilities without even a second thought, just like that... Of course it was useful, but... it was strange. She wasn't used to it. Dazed, and a little bit uneasy, she prepared the last bed she had available for the boy. The small cot in the corner, reserved for visitors of Jubilife Village, such as members of the Diamond or Pearl Clans or the Ginkgo Guild.

Her mind wandered as she'd prepared the cot for the boy. The acceptance of Pokémon was a rather modern concept, after all, and not everyone would be so... accepting or understanding as the Professor seemed to be. She could tell, after Captain Cyllene had requested to move from Security Corps to create the Survey Corps upon Professor Laventon's arrival, that Commander Kamado wasn't thrilled about the idea of living alongside Pokémon, and was only convinced because of Cyllene's impeccable skill in arguing her point. Truly, Cyllene was another breed of human, one whom Pesselle admired deeply.

That people and Pokémon could live in harmony... It had always been brushed off as idealistic or even brutish until now. Along comes Rei, a boy and his stubborn little Pikachu who doesn't always listen to what he has to say. Rei was the only one in the entire town brave enough to join the Survey Corps to help the Professor, but even with his assistance progress is slow. So far, the Professor only had about five entries in the Pokédex he was beginning to compile: that of the three Pokémon he himself gathered and brought to Hisui: Cyndaquil, Oshawott, and Rowlet; Rei's Pikachu; and Cyllene's Abra. Even then, the information given on them was limited.

Cyndaquil's back can erupt in flames when surprised or irate. Seems shy but can be surprisingly demanding. Humble but strong. Takes care of others.

Only four known moves, and its basic "typing," a categorical system pioneered by the Professor himself, was classified as "Fire." Fair enough. It does have flames on its back--sometimes. How strange that the circular markings on its fur can spontaneously combust the way they do. Dangerous, too. Is it really okay to have a Fire-type Pokémon inside a building? Professor Laventon had argued it'd be fine in the Galaxy Hall, because the building was made of bricks.

Regardless, her doubts about Pokémon hadn't subsided. Even as Cyllene's Abra successfully Teleported the boy and--to Pesselle's surprise, Cyndaquil, who was in his arms, emanating heat and dangerously on the verge of sparking some flames on its back--she had gotten to work right away, finishing off the clumsy work the Professor had attempted to do to keep the boy from choking on his own spit and the water in his lungs. A Heimlich Maneuver and the Professor's entire sprint back to the village later, Pesselle had managed to grab some measurements and write down some information about the boy.

Looks to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, approximately 172cm--or, in the Professor's units of measurement, 5'8"--and since he wasn't conscious, she wasn't able to write down a weight for him yet. In appearance, he was rather fair-skinned, freckles dotting his face, elbows, wrists, and calves, and he had snowy white hair stuck in clumps with dried sea salt and eyes as blue and clear as the sky had been earlier that day. He was... very oddly dressed. His shirt was not folded in any way, and was far too thin to be a proper kimono. His trousers were strange, in that they had pockets, but she could not tell if they were shorts or pants, because they stopped at his knees. And of course, he was entirely barefoot, with rocks digging into his feet. She had to clean and bandage the small wounds on them, and it would be a little painful to walk for a day or two, but he should be fine after that.

Pesselle had Rei urgently call Lady Anthe over to assess his clothes and provide him with new ones, as these were utterly soaked through and would only serve to harm him if he continued to wear them. She provided him with one of her everyday kimonos, but even as she took the clothing away, she said she hadn't recognized them in the slightest. They were not Galarian, nor were they from the neighboring regions, and Kalos didn't have anything quite like that.

"It's odd," she mused, "but I don't recognize any of these clothes at all. I'll be sure to take good care of them until the boy wakes--he may be able to shed some light on where he comes from by the time he comes to collect them."

"Please do," Pesselle had requested with an earnest bow. "I'm sure Commander Kamado would like to know as well."

With a nod, Anthe left and Pesselle was on her own with the boy.

Well, on her own with a rogue Fire-type Pokémon who hadn't once left his side unguarded even for a moment. Although Pesselle had finished her examinations, she tried to remove Cyndaquil from his grasp--after all, waking to a Pokémon in his arms wouldn't be good for him, if he was anything like the rest of the villagers here. But Cyndaquil didn't listen. As soon as Pesselle's hand came close, the flames on her back sprang to life, forcing her to jolt away before she was burned. And, just as quickly as they had appeared, the flames died down, before they had a chance to burn the sheets that Cyndaquil was now burrowing into.

It was like this for a while. Pesselle would allow Cyndaquil "just twenty more minutes" to warm the boy up, but when it came time to pull them apart, Cyndaquil stubbornly refused. By nightfall, Pesselle gave up and simply sat there, watching helplessly as the little Pokémon occasionally glanced up, sniffed at his chin, folded itself in different ways, and rested, and as the boy stirred in his sleep, unconscious and confused, his hands holding on to the warmth of the uncanny creature in his grasp.

"Where did you say this boy came from again?"

"Well, I only saw him as the three Pokémon ran after him, you understand, but... Well, I'm sure you saw it too, did you not? Those three shooting stars from atop Mt. Coronet? I'm certain this boy was one of them!"

"Professor, you're suggesting this boy fell from the sky. From the space-time rift! Are you mad?"

"Madame Pesselle, please, you know I only concern myself with facts! Think about it! This strange device that was in the boy's hand... His clothing, his convenient location! One of those shooting stars went past Lake Verity, I'm certain of it! And what lies beyond Lake Verity? The ocean! The ocean currents must have brought him ashore to Prelude Beach!"

"Professor, it's likely he's been frigid for several hours now. If he fell from the sky, I've no clue if he will even survive!"

"Madame Pesselle, please!--"

"I'm not saying I will not help him, but if what you say is true then I fear we may be too late. If there are other human beings on the other ends of those shooting stars across Hisui, we can only pray for their safety now."

When the boy had first come in, she'd pried the strange item from his cold, stiff hands. It lay awkwardly on the chair at his side, eerie and odd-looking. Just as odd as the rest of him.

It hadn't taken her as long as she thought it would have to stabilize the boy. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that Cyndaquil's presence really did help somewhat. Now the boy was safely stirring in his sleep, likely disturbed by dreams of some kind. He moved, breathed, shifted... All it would take now was rest to complete his recovery.

"Professor, if we want the boy to recover, I need to ask that you remove Cyndaquil from his person."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Cyndaquil is worried, and all she is doing is using her natural body heat to warm him up. Surely that can't be harmful?"

"Well, no, but... if he wakes to a Pokémon in his arms and panics--"

"I don't think he will, Madame."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Why, it's simple!" he had beamed. "Pokémon are very good judges of character, I think. Or, perhaps, it's just my three. Still, I think it's worth noting. My Pokémon don't often listen to me because I fail to live up to their expectations. In truth, I am not the valuable partner that they need me to be. And, of course, I've seen how my little ones avoid the rest of the villagers. It's quite clear that they understand when they aren't wanted. And yet, I find it quite intriguing, that Cyndaquil in particular is so drawn to this young boy. This young man, alien in many ways, who seems to have fallen from the heavens themselves. Do you not find it fascinating?"

Pesselle had sighed deeply. "Professor, please do not make my patient your next science experiment..."

"Oh, no, of course not! I wouldn't dream of it! Not without his consent, of course. And it isn't an experiment, Madame, it is a research project. I'm not that kind of scientist, you know!"

"Mm-hm. Right."

When Pesselle had mentioned to him about how Cyndaquil wouldn't leave, she requested a copy of Cyndaquil's entry in the Pokédex, so that she could watch the creature overnight.

Now she sat, tapping her brush idly as she read over the little information she had on her desk about it, sighing to herself as the moon passed overhead outside, stewing in her thoughts.

Union between people and Pokémon, huh...?

After everything she'd been through today, and as she watched the strange white-haired boy groan under his breath, tormented by something behind his closed eyelids that only he could see, slowly calm down when Cyndaquil pushed her snout into his neck and began pulsing short, small flames from her back in a steady, comforting rhythm, something in her heart fluttered with nervous excitement.

Maybe, she thought, looking at the two of them, a small creature of dangerous elements comforting a small, frail, near-sick human being.

Maybe the Professor had a point.

[luminecho]

literally crying sobbing wailing on the ground. why did we have to present the VIDEO TAPE to get here. why couldn't we have just picked up the headset WAY EARLIER and took it as evidence and then presented THAT to her. i'm going to combust i am going to BURST INTO FLAMES ace attorney is so hard please someone save me

[lampmanliveblogs]

Alright, let’s get this done. Where we last left off, The Golden Guard was threatening to drown King, imprison Eda and force Luz to do unpaid labor unless they slay the peaceful Selkidomus.

As Luz picks up the blade, we cut to the Bee-Plot with Lilith trying to fend off this enormous swarm of flaming bees with her stick. 

”Oh, right… wood is combustible.” -Lilith, probably

Lilith giggling and clapping her hands as Lord Hooty appears to answer her prayers and do a violence against her enemies is kinda cute. I hope she learns the right lesson from this; that needing help with something is not a sign of weakness and that everyone needs help sometimes and all that good stuff.

Back with Eda and Luz, Eda is trying to dissuade Luz from fighting the Selkidomus. Aside from it being kinda weird hearing Eda tell someone NOT to choose violence, we see more of what was hinted at before.

Luz feels not only like a burden to Eda, but she also believes Eda’s misfortunes are her fault. I can see where she’s coming from. If Luz hadn’t tried to sneak that healing hat from Belos’ castle, she wouldn’t have gotten captured by Lilith, Eda wouldn’t have showed up to free her and gotten captured. She would still have her magic and wouldn’t be forced to live on collecting minimal bounties.

The thing is thought, Eda would’ve lost her magic to the curse eventually anyways, so it was really just a question of time. And if you really think about it, in a hypothetical scenario where Luz never stumbled through that portal to the Boiling Isles, the curse would’ve worn out Eda eventually, she’d get captured and then either petrified or tortured by Belos for information on the portal (or both). And in this scenario, Luz wouldn’t have been there to save her.

And not to be that guy, but all of this is technically Lilith’s fault. She cursed Eda, hampering her magical powers. Sure, Eda might’ve still become an outcast in society and hunted by the Emperor’s Coven for refusing to join a coven, but at least she’d have her full magical power.

Of course, this is all easy for me to say, as a viewer of a piece of media. I can look at plot elements and character motivations and whatnot and analyze it from a rational, logical standpoint. It’s a lot harder to do that in real life cause all these things like ”emotions” get in the way. Also remember that Luz is a literal child who should not have to deal with any of this in the first place.

In the end, I think that what’s important for Luz to understand is that no matter what mistakes she made, Eda does not blame her for any of the bad things that has happened.

Luz, your fragile human body! Don’t go diving off cliffs!

[oakthcrn]

Her rage matched the flames that circled around the perimeter of the area. Lark Oakthorn, the fire witch with the flying lion, stood upon a tree branch as she watched the Magisterium soldiers burst into flames. She was unmoved by their screams of pain and panic.

She tilted her head towards her daemon. A silent command. The winged beast let out a ravenous roar and charged at those unlucky enough to not combust outright in flames.

She glided to the ground with the elegance of a queen. She did not heed the screaming corpses around her, only to scoff at their arrogance to attempt to end the life of someone she held dear.

" Fools." She seethed. She had not the time to deal with them, instead, she strolled directly to where Lee Scoresby laid, hurt but still drawing breath.

She knelt down and said nothing as she ripped open his shirt to examine the wounds he bore. Cleanly through, she could fix this. She glanced at Lee.

" Forgive me, Lee, I wasn't quick enough." She huffed a bit, but the look of resolve on her face told him that she was not about to give up.

" This will not be pleasant, my dear, but to save you, you must endure more pain." She invoked her power of fire and placed her hand over the first bullet wound; the flames, while hot and painful, began to heal the flesh, slowly stitching itself under her magic.

Hyzenthlay prowled over, his amber eyes alight with the magic Lark wielded, his muzzle drenched in blood. He strolled past them and found Hester. He dipped his head and gently nuzzled her in comfort. He lowered himself as if guarding the little hare from any more harm.

@aercnaut // liked for a starter.

[casspurrjoybell-19]

TORN - HOLIDAY SPECIAL

*Warning: Adult Content*  

                              Danny and Raymon’s Story

Daniel Cahill snuggled into his husband, Rayson Cahill's broad chest comfortably as the fire crackled in the hearth in front of them. 

He cradled hot cocoa piled with marshmallows in his hands as he watched the steadily falling snow accumulate outside. 

They were quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence and watching the Christmas lights twinkle on the twenty foot tall tree. 

The Pack House was practically empty save for a few unmated Omegas that chose to stay home and get chores done, as the entire pack had planned a two day ski outing up North. 

It was quite the sight watching everyone leave together; with their youngest son, Luna Berlin Cahill being fretted over by his Mate Alpha Oasis Amador, with every step he took and Beta Ortiz trying to unsuccessfully escape their oldest son, Pack Warrior Corey Cahill's clutches.

"How are you feeling, bunny?" 

Rayson's chest vibrated against Danny’s back as he spoke in his deep tone, tightening his tree-trunk-like arms around his Mate’s thin waist as if he would disappear into thin air if he didn't hold him tight enough. 

Danny tucked his face into Rayson’s neck after taking another sip of hot cocoa, pressing chocolate-scented kisses to the sexy stubble that sat on his chin.

"I feel alright right now, but you know that can change very quickly," Danny mumbled, sighing softly as he set his cocoa to the side to grab his black neck pillow for added comfort, snuggling it close to his chest and inhaling the scent of Rayson that it so generously gave off. 

Part of the reason Danny always kept it close was because of that reason alone, it smelled just like his mate and that calmed him when his Mate couldn't always be around.

"Just tell me if you need anything, beautiful. I will get it for you, I don't want you moving around too much," Rayson added, mumbling against Danny’s temple before kissing it softly and shifting him to sit sideways in his lap. 

Danny laughed softly at Rayson’s statement, peeking open an eye to look up at his handsome face which shone with adoration as his husband looked back down at him. 

Danny knew his eyes held the same expression.

"Ray, I'm not dying. I'm just pregnant because someone decided to keep me up so late that I forgot to take my birth control," Danny sassed playfully, feeling Rayson's hand slip underneath his tiny mate’s knitted sweater and splay out across his very slight baby bump to caress the soft skin. 

Danny rested his hand on top of Rayson’s, laid his head on his shoulder and smiled at his affectionate action. 

Although Danny never considered having another child after the triplets, after recently discovering he was pregnant he realized that exactly what he needed was someone to look after. 

Rayson was absolutely ecstatic at the news but became ridiculously overprotective since then.

Never underestimate an Alpha's protectiveness over their Mate when they are round with his pups. 

In the last week of his pregnancy with Berlin, Corey and Tyrus, Danny had to hold Rayson back from killing anyone who even knocked on the door of their bedroom while his Luna was nesting. 

Danny was terrified that Rayson’s famous temper would return but every time the tiny man looked his husband in the eyes and kissed his lips, he would simmer down and wrap his arms around him so tightly the father to be thought he would shatter.

‘So, you could only guess his reaction to the announcement of the ski trip.’ 

Rayson kept spouting nonsense about the possibility of the bus combusting into flames or Danny somehow tripping and falling hard enough to cause a miscarriage again. 

Ever since the first one before the triplets, when our beautiful Omega son was born months too early, Rayson was a nervous wreck when it came to letting Danny out of the house when he was pregnant.

People were beginning to suspect that something was going on due to Rayson’s overprotectiveness but the focus of the Pack was on Luna Berlin and his quickly approaching labor date, so Danny knew theyy could get away with a few more weeks without anyone noticing.

"Hmm," Rayson grunted and pulled Danny tighter against him, stubbornly tightening his arms around his husband’s tiny body again. 

Dany sighed aloud, shifting his body in his husband lap so that he straddled his thick thighs before cupping his face in his hands to brush their lips together.

"It's okay, I'm going to be fine. I promise. Nothing's going to happen to me," Danny whispered, kissing Rayson’s lips softly in order to seal his words. 

Their lips moved in tandem as Danny pressed against Rayson’s giant body, his arms sliding around his Mate’s neck to pull him closer. 

Rayson’s tongue probed gently against Danny’s lips, asking for entrance which he immediately granted him as he felt his husband was seeking solstice in their loving action. 

After a long moment, they pull back slowly and press their foreheads together, gazing into one another's eyes so deeply Danny could've sworn he saw his Mate’s soul.

"Daniel Cahill, I love you," Rayson began, forever keeping eye contact with Danny as he slipped his warm hands underneath the hem of his tiny Husband’s sweater and whispered quietly against his lips. "You are the reason I get up every morning. You are the reason I have three... well now four, beautiful children to love as well. Without you, I don't know where I'd be."

Danny immediately felt tears build up in his eyes and his lips quiver as he threw himself at Rayson, holding tightly around his neck for support as he began to sob that ‘he loved him just as much’ against his neck. 

Danny could've blamed it on the hormones but he knows for a fact that it only had to do with the fact that his love for his mate, his lover, his everything, shook him to his very core.

"Shh, shh. Don't stress yourself out, bunny. It's not good for you or the baby," Rayon whispered against Danny’s hair as he held him, pressing fleeting kisses to his temple. 

Danny couldn't do anything but nod and hiccup, biting his bottom lip hard in an attempt to keep the tears in. 

However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the waterfall of happy tears that cascaded down his cheeks. 

Rayson seemed to realize this after a short moment and instead of speaking, he simply kissed his Mate’s tears away in the manner he used to when Danny would have frequent panic attacks.

"Ray..." Danny whispered after he managed to get a slight hold on his emotions, taking a deep breath before bringing up the topic that he knew they both dreaded to bring up. "Ray... What if I don't make it?"

Male pregnancies have always held the highest mortality rate, however that rate rises exponentially once an Omega grows older. 

Although Danny may not have looked it due to the Werewolf genes which keep one looking young for quite a while, he was much older than someone might expect. 

In fact, Daniel Cahill was going into his 50th year pretty soon.

Rayson Cahill sighed, running a hand through his lover’s hair before looking down at him and kissing his lips softly. 

"Wherever you go or whatever happens, I will be there. Whether that means following you across the world or into the afterlife, I will do so happily if it means I get to see your gorgeous face every single day," Rayson says, cupping Danny’s cheek gently in his large hand, as if he was the most fragile of objects. 

Danny leaned into his husband’s touch, nodding at his words and closing his eyes, savoring the feeling of his rough, masculine palm against his soft cheek.

"Forever?"

"Forever?"

                                     Berlin and Oasis’ Story

Luna Berlin Cahilll sat in a chair by the crackling fireplace in the ski lounge, rubbing his distended belly over his white, fluffy sweater and watching Pack Members fly down the snowy slopes outside of the floor-to-ceiling window. 

It was hilarious watching the inexperienced Members of the Pack tumble down the bunny hill or in Beta Ortiz's case, attempt the hardest hill and fall flat on his face. 

It was hilarious how he was forced to cling to Warrior Corey Cahill as he effortlessly carried him to the infirmary, spouting nonsense the entire time about how he could "totally nail it" if Corey just let him try it again. 

However, Corey wasn't having any of Ortiz's nonsense and simply ignored his incessant nagging.

The ski trip was going so well and as the Luna, Berlin was so glad that everyone was getting along. 

He only wished that his parents had come along as well but his Dad hasn't been feeling well lately, so in the proper Rayson Cahill fashion, Berlin’s Papa insisted that his husband stay home to rest. 

Berlin came to suspect that it may have all been a ploy for them to have sex all over the empty house.

 ‘But you never know when it comes to those two.’

"Here you go, princess. I put extra marshmallows in it for you." 

Berlin smiled brightly at the sound of the voice that he knew he'd always adore, turning his head just in time to meet Oasis' firm lips. 

Ever since that day in the Alpha Office, their relationship has been absolutely wonderful. 

Not only did Oasis formally apologize to and ask for acceptance from Berlin’s parents but Oasis has also been such a good Papa to their pups. 

‘Yes, pups. Plural.’

Berlin went to see Head Pack Nurse Benji just before they left for the ski trip and during the ultrasound he confirmed that he was having twins. 

Judging by their size, he also confirmed that they would most likely be identical Alphas and Berlin had ample reason to believe him due to the force they used when they kicked at his ribs. 

Sometimes, it was enough to make Berlin cry.

He was due in a little more than a week and Oasis was the most overprotective Papa in the world. 

Berlin hadn't even started nesting yet, thank Goddess but Oasis was acting like his Luna was already in labor. 

Berlin knew it was largely because of the influence of Oasis’ Wolf York, who Oasis let out every few days to dote over Berlin and his pups but it was still slightly annoying that he insisted on carrying his Mate everywhere.

"Thank you, Osi," Berlin smiled against Oasis’ lips as he handed his tiny Mate the big cup of hot chocolate, careful not to spill any. 

Berlin had been deeply craving the sweet beverage, similar to how his Dad said he did when he was pregnant with he and his brothers. 

Oasis took a seat next to Berlin and pulled him gently into his side as he sighed aloud, kissing the top of his lover’s head affectionately. 

Berlin sipped cautiously at his hot chocolate while snuggling into Oasis’ warm body, smiling as he noticed the drink was the perfect temperature.

"Do you need anything else, kitten?" Oasis asked, gazing down at Berlin while brushing his long blonde hair away from his face. 

Berlin shook his head with a smile as he felt his husband’s large hand move to caress his stomach. 

Their pups began to stir as they sensed their father's presence and Berlin winced slightly as they kicked at a tender spot on his tummy.

Placing his much smaller hand on top of his Mate’s, Berlin glanced back out of the huge window.

"I love you. And our beautiful pups that we made," Berlin said, blushing at his own words, tucking his head into Oasis' other muscly arm that wrapped around his body so he couldn't see it.

"Oh, you are just too adorable," Oasis chuckled, leaning down to rest his head on top of Berlin’s. "I love you too, baby. And I always will."

                                   Ortiz and Cory’s Story

"I don't even know him. I swear," Beta Ortiz bellowed to the small nurse, ignoring the anger that was evident on Pack Warrior Corey Cahill's face.

 Anyone who didn't know Corey wouldn't be able to tell that he was angry, seeing as to how his emotions barely come through on his face, however, judging by the tensing of his biceps and the slight twitch of his lip, Ortiz would say he was pretty Goddess-damned pissed.

"Um... Sir it's okay if you two are together. I... I'm gay myself," the little nurse blushed at Ortiz’s words as if he was unsure whether he should have divulged that information or not. 

Ortiz simply scowled, flopping back on the dingy hospital-like bed and crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I'm not gay. I'm not even into guys. Never have been, never will be," Ortiz growled, staring at the white ceiling while pursing his lips. "Matter of fact, I'm not even hurt. Corey just has some type-a homo-crush on me and when he saw me fall, he got his panties all up in a damn twist."

At that point, Corey was practically fuming in the corner of the room. 

Ortiz could see his knuckles going white and his nostrils flare in a predatory manner as the Beta pushed just about every single boundary the Warrior had, which wasn't many.

"S-sir... It is not wise of you to immediately attempt the most difficult slope when you have never skied before," the twink nurse timidly responded, poking and prodding at Ortiz’s legs to test if he have any injuries.

"Shut up," Ortiz yelled suddenly, shaking his head frantically and yanking his legs away from the little twink's surprisingly soft hands. "I'm fine, just leave me the fuck alone." 

Ortiz pushed away from the nurse, who’s expression read complete shock at the Beta’s sudden reaction. 

At that moment, Corey decided to intervene, pushing away from his spot against the wall to walk over to the nurse. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Corey glanced down at the smaller male before speaking.

"Please leave. I will calm him and call you back in once I have done so." 

The incredibly deep tone of Corey's voice never failed to amaze Ortiz, as it’s bass was practically visible as it moved through the air. 

The nurse, seemingly mesmerized by him as well, squeaked and ran out of the room ,probably to find his Mate who just so happened to be the residing Doctor at the ski lodge.

Ortiz froze as soon as the door closed and Corey's eyes met his, biting his lip hard as he surveyed his Mate’s anger levels again.

‘Knuckles still white? Check. Biceps bulging? Check. Lips in a tight line? Check.’

Corey’s definitely got his large form from his Alpha father, as Ortiz felt the Warrior’s dominating aura as he stalked towards him. 

In an instant, Ortiz was pinned back against the bed, arms above his head while Corey's large form hovered over him. 

The Beta’s eyes widened at his Mate’s close proximity and he felt his Wolf howl happily at the fact that they were so close to one another. 

Corey’s sweet breath fanned Ortiz’s face and he almost moaned, feeling himself harden in the lower regions.

"What's up with this act, huh? You act like you want nothing to do with me around others but when it comes down to it you end up keening underneath me. What is it, huh?" Corey growled out harshly, their faces only centimeters apart. 

The Warrior’s canines began to extend in a testament to his anger and an involuntary shiver slid down Ortiz’s spine, causing his lips to part and his back to slightly arch up into his Mate’s body.

Although Corey’s display of dominance would usually terrify anyone, Ortiz could only think of how sexy he looked, muscles bulging as he held him down underneath him.

"I don't know, I..." Ortiz started, only to be cut off by a viscous growl.

"Is it because you want this?" 

Ortiz gasped aloud as Corey's hands suddenly slipped into the hem of his pants and boxers to yank them down to his ankles. 

Before the Beta could comprehend anything, he was thrown into a world of pleasure as his legs were pushed up to his chest to expose his pink, puckered hole to his Beautiful Warrior Mate. 

Ortiz felt Corey’s fingers immediately on him, poking and prodding to open him up. 

Corey was rough, two fingers entering Ortiz at once without lubrication while his free hand came around to spank his Beta Mate’s bare ass.

"Is it?" Corey grumbled out, fingers moving rapidly and pressing against Ortiz’s prostate head-on.

‘Yes, it's exactly because I want this.’

"Yes Daddy... I want it..." Ortiz breathed out, willing to say anything to keep those glorious, thick fingers right where he wanted them, pressed up nice and snug against his prostate. 

Corey had Ortiz exactly where he wanted him and the Head Pack Warrior knew it. 

‘No matter what, he always got me to the point of 'submissive homo' whenever he decided to do his little display of dominance. But it didn't matter, everyone experiments now and again... It didn't mean I was gay... Right?’

Ever since they began having sex, Ortiz noticed that Corey would get extra riled up if the Pack Beta threw in a 'Daddy' line every now and then. 

As if on cue, Corey reached to the side to grab a small blanket, ripping it down the middle to make a small cloth which he then tied tightly around Ortiz’s wrists and subsequently secured to the headboard of the hospital bed. 

Ortiz was almost immobile as Corey yanked off his Mate’s boots to remove his pants and boxers completely. 

The outline of Corey’s bulge made Ortiz’s mouth water and judging by the twitch of his Mate’s lips on his otherwise expressionless face, he knew exactly what he was doing to him.

"As punishment, I'm going to fuck you, here and now and you better hope that little nurse doesn't come back in unannounced or else you'll have a lot of explaining to do."

Beta Ortiz just smirked.

"Yes, Daddy."

[theguidetocryptids]

I was unsure if I wanted to share this story, but I think it’s worth it. Anyone who wants to become an exterminator should know the sort of trouble that you might get yourself into. The last thing I want is someone being enamored with the thought of bagging man-eating cryptids and managing to get themselves seriously hurt, or worse. This is not a safe sort of job.

A few pieces of advice before we continue, in case you really do plan on becoming an exterminator—though, these are more field tips than anything.

Diesel is better than gas for setting things on fire, if you’re worried about the flames surging up too fast or reaching up to you.

Fire can spread between joined structures with extreme ease. Please make sure that the area around your firesite is clear before lighting the flame, and that you know how to contact the relevant authorities in case something goes amiss.

With explosions, even the shockwave—the air that gets shoved out of the way by the violent combustion of whatever fuel you chose—can be deadly, nevermind shrapnel and the accompanying heat and fire.

Do not, under any circumstances, try to replicate anything that I’m about to tell you. The Bureau managed to cover it for me, but to say they weren’t pleased would be doing a disservice to how pissed an entire governmental branch can get.

But, on to the story. I’m sure you’re more than ready to hear it.

We left off with, assuming you read the last post I made, the man that had just saved me, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t about to buy him a beer. We had wound up at the local dive—I think it was named the Y-Bar, or something similar—and we were maybe a few drinks in when we started talking about more than just what jobs we’d worked before. When we started talking about what he was.

It was his smile that gave him away. Every single tooth sharpened to a point, like he’d taken a file to them. Whenever he grinned, it made me think of a shark circling in the depths, waiting for the right time to try and take a bite. Waiting for just the perfect moment to lunge up . . .

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the teeth?” I said, sipping on the most piss-poor glass of beer I’d ever had.

“My teeth?” He said, staring at me like I was crazy, before grinning again, laughing at the expression that no doubt washed over my face. “My teeth, right. I’m a vampire—I’m sure you know the type.”

Of course I did. Vampires were outside of any regular exterminator’s wheelhouse—that was something you called in to the guys over in the BoSS’s black book, but exterminator’s knew all the signs in case we ever stumbled upon them. I said as much, and started to say something about how anyone knew what a vampire was before he raised his hand.

“I wasn’t done.” He said, grinning that damn shark-toothed grin. “Regular vamps are like . . . cottonmouths. Deadly, sure. A real threat to the regular prey—humans. I’m more of a . . . kingsnake.”

That was when I thought about calling the Bureau. It was strange—he was strange—but more importantly, it was way out of my league. Exterminators aren’t the ones that have to deal with these kinds of threats—we’re supposed to be for the pests. I can assure you that if you pursue this line of work, you won’t be encountering situations like this unless you are very, very unlucky.

I hadn’t really moved—I was about to stand up, to walk away, but his hand was already on my shoulder, pushing me back down into the seat.

“Woah now, there’s no need for you to be rushin’ off like that.” He said, voice colder than steel even as he smiled at me. He drained the rest of his glass before he spoke again, taking his hand off my shoulder once he did. It left a pretty nasty bruise—his grip wasn’t gentle. And he said, “Look, jackass, I eat other vampires. I didn’t lure you here just to try to drain you or convert you or some bullshit—and I certainly didn’t bring you here for you to turn me into the BoSS. And, I can you tell you right now, you ain’t takin’ that job in Mississippi.”

There was a job I had intended to take after the gig here—the one that this man saved me during. How he knew about it, I didn’t know exactly, but I could pretty well guess. Exterminators have to phone in the locations of jobs that they work to the Bureau of Supernatural Services, mainly for record keeping, but also to help identify any problematic areas that’ll require more experienced exterminators. Apparently, he had someone on the inside.

Or the Bureau was helping him willingly. I don’t know which would be scarier.

“You weren’t down at the graveyard because of a friend, were you?” I asked. The man only smiled, offering his hand. I shook it warily.

“Call me King. I’ll tell you what the problem is on the drive over.”

“Over where?” I asked, following him as he walked outside. This was all, in hindsight, the craziest goddamn thing I’d ever gotten myself into, but it seemed like the normal brand of supernatural weird at the time. That was until he told me what the problem he needed so much help with was.

We both tuned in to a CB radio channel, and I followed him out the parking lot. It wasn’t too long until he gave me the rundown—a vampire nest, a big one, set in the middle of New Orleans. They’d been running a pretty tight operation for a few months now—maybe even a full year—just by sticking to taking homeless people off the street, people passing through town, no one who would be missed by the locals. Or, more importantly, no one who’d really be missed by the local police department.

At some point they got greedy. Blood-drunk, as King put it. There was a spike in missing person’s cases around the area, an increase in the stories about kidnappings and gangs roaming the streets. Their big mistake, I remember him saying, was when they tried to convert someone, and she ran out screaming into the street. Somehow, the poor woman managed to outrun them—and the story got back to King. And, I reckoned, the BoSS, if no stories about it ever surfaced.

That was all just the backstory—what he really needed me for, was taking them down. He’d managed to get in good with the vampires actually running the show—they based it out of a bar in the area, and held a “feast” for all the members of their group every month or so. King reckoned this would be the perfect opportunity to burn them all to ash, considering there was no way we’d be able to take care of them traditionally.

So we were going to burn it down, he said. The bar had a kitchen that used gas stoves. He planned on sabotaging the propane tanks to fill up the kitchen before starting a fire in the adjacent room to burn through the wall and blow the place up. It sounded stupid, and I said as much, but he only asked if I had any better plans. Really, besides torching the place, there was no better alternative, but that didn’t make me feel any better about the plan—especially considering that I was going to have to act as a willing “convert” for them to not be suspicious of me.

There wasn’t much to talk about after that, and there was still plenty of road to cover, so I turned off the CB radio and made a call to the Bureau.

“Hey—this is need_a_nightlight, calling in about a suspicious figure in the Central Louisiana area. I believe him to be a type of vampire—please advise.” There was silence at the other end for a few moments before the person at the other end spoke.

“You are to help King with his plan. Orders from the top. Will you two be needing assistance?”

I sighed before relying with, “No backup needed,” and ending the call. It was a damn rare sight to see a vamp nest this big go undetected for so long, and I wasn’t completely surprised to learn that they were fully aware of what was going on. It’d be more surprising if King had managed to actually infiltrate the Bureau, more so than just enlisting their help. It was a testament to what he told me, too—the BoSS takes no chances with entities that could turn against humans. The fact he was working with them meant that they had no doubt he was safe, even if inhuman.

What it meant for me to be assigned as the helper, I have no clue. Maybe it was just by chance, but looking back, I’m not so sure. The caller for that ghoul-case gone wrong hadn’t been the most urgent sounding, nor even particularly worried. Given everything that’s happened since then, it certainly could have been staged—but at the time, I didn’t consider any of that. Just turned the radio back on just to tune into King’s awful rendition of Highway to Hell. Nothing much happened till we actually got to New Orleans.

We parked a good few blocks away, me having changed out of my duds while King kept his jean-and-trench-coat look. (as a man who had no sense of style—it was bad. Pretty damn bad.) It was around 10 PM, I believe—a full two hours before the party started. Enough time to actually put the plan into action.

It was maybe a fifteen minute walk there. I think we just shot the shit, King making sure his pistols weren’t showing out the side of his coat. I did the same—it’s a prerequisite to have a concealed carry permit, the BoSS just happens to have a special one for exterminators. I don’t generally like handguns, but for a stupid plan like this? We’d need all the help we could get without putting more people in danger.

I figure that was my biggest problem with what we were about to do. Blowing the place up would take care of the vamps, sure—burning them to ash was a sure fire way to keep them from hurting others, but explosions and flames don’t exactly discriminate between human and non-human. It wasn’t as if we really had a better choice—at this time of day, everyone should be home, away from the particular part of the French Quarter that we planned to reduce to ash—which would mean we’d be saving more people by eliminating the nest than we’d be endangering with the propane tanks.

That still didn’t make it sit any better with me.

The bar was across the street from us whenever King spoke again, saying, “Alright, fresh meat. You ready? You’re really gonna have to lay on the eager wannabe schtick thick, here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” I said, despite the fact that acting was probably my worst skill—right next to lying.

“Bullshit you do, but we don’t have time for that.” King said, patting my shoulder like we were old friends. “Look, just keep it cool, go along with whatever they do. As long as you don’t stir up a fuss, I’ll have time to take care of everything else. Just. Play. Along.”

I’d wager that it’s much easier to talk about playing along with vampires whenever you aren’t the type that they like to sink their fangs into, but I kept quiet. I knew damn well we’d only get one shot at this—any sort of slip-up, and we could kiss the chance to nip this in the bud goodbye. There’s no telling how many more they’d kill or turn before the Bureau would ever get a chance to root out the infestation again. Vampirism is, quite literally, a virus, just more on a macro-scale than anything else.

“Alright.” I said, after a second. Not like I really had much choice in the matter. Save lives, or, what, go and get drunk in some other shitty country dive?

“Thatta boy. I might actually start to like you, at this rate.”

“Don’t consider it mutual.”

King just laughed as we walked across the street. He waved at the vamp on duty outside of the bar, said something about how he was starving, how he couldn’t wait to get a bite to eat. Probably the most on the nose joke I’ve ever heard, even from him, but the guard just laughed and waved us in.

Now, I can’t exactly tell you what I expected from a vamp’s feast, but what was going on inside that bar was most definitely not it. Think a rave of a hundred crammed into a space maybe big enough for fifty. I don’t even know how we made it into the crowd, much less found ourselves in the middle of it, but I do remember King shaking hands with some mob-boss looking vamp and looking back at me.

There was no way I could possibly hear him over the music. They had speakers (almost as big as I was) set up towards the bar, absolutely blasting. Someone must have been bribed to ensure there were no sound complaints—but I digress.

I could have sworn he said “here’s the food.” while pointing directly towards me.

The mobby grinned, shook King’s hand a little harder, and finally let him go. King slunk off to somewhere unseen, obscured by the bodies clogging the bar, but the boss headed straight towards me. There was hardly room to breathe, but the vamps around him still managed to scoot out of the way, leaving a bubble of space between me and him as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I hear,” he said, “that you’re looking to become one of us.”

I looked into his eyes. He was perfectly passable as a human—no sickly sheen to his skin, his fangs barely more pronounced than regular incisors, overall looking the very epitome of health. Except for those damn eyes. They were slimy, almost glazed over, like a fish which had been dead for much too long.

I smiled. “Yes sir. I’ve been tired of living from paycheck to paycheck for too long. I just . . . I just want to have some fun.” I really couldn’t see anyone turning to these things out of anything other than desperation. Maybe to escape the law, or their family, or their own problems, but always to run away. I needed to tell him something—copying those reasons seemed my best shot. I thought it worked; the boss smiled, even nodded gently, and then took his arm away.

“Tie him up.” He said, those fish eyes staring me down.

I tried to fight back, but it was never a fair match up to begin with. Six or so vampires against one human? I might as well have been a mouse up against lions. A few moments of struggling later and they had me down against the bar, rope digging into my wrists. Someone had killed the music, an eerie silence already filling up the room. There was only the boss walking towards me, the tap of his shoes against the floors.

Just the boss, and the fact that King had left me for dead. Kingsnake my ass, he’d brought me here just to feed the rest of his friends. I don’t know how he’d managed to convince the Bureau he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact I was as good as helpless against an entire vampire nest.

I was able to turn my head enough to watch the vamp boss step closer, taking his sweet time in reaching me. “We’re getting real tired of you Bureau fucks trying to ruin our fun, y’know? Asshats like you thinking they can walk into our homes and take us out like trash. But you ain’t even one of the big guys, are you? You one of those regular exterminators. Probably only bagged a few spirits, too. The hell’s one of you pitiful bastards doing down here? I can’t believe you even tried taking care of this alone. Probably thought King was one of you, too?”

I stayed quiet. I was trying to give them less of a reason to speed up my most likely inevitable death, but it only seemed to make him even more mad. “Oh, you’re a pretentious little fuck, ain’t you? Probably some redneck piece of shit who’s only been in a city twice in his life. Yeah, alright buddy. Play the strong silent type with your throat ripped out.”

He gave some signal to the vampires around him. I barely caught it, just a flick of his hand, and the ranks advanced towards me. Just a few more steps and they’d be on me. I’m not a religious man, never was, but I tried my hand at praying then. Just in case. I tried thinking more of absolution than the hundred-something pairs of teeth about to dig in, no doubt all of them vying for their own special drop of my blood. I still get chills thinking about the look in their eyes. At that moment, I wasn’t a person. I was cattle.

And then the back of the bar exploded. Relative to the entrance, I was on the left, and the entire back wall went up in a flash of flames and sound. I don’t even think the vamps next to it had any time to react, speared through with flaming hunks of wood and stone as they were.

King was there, untying my hands a second later. I wanted to thank him, but it came out as more of a, “You’re an absolutely despicable motherfucker.”

“Woulda done that sooner, but I forgot we were going to have to block off the entrance. Had to circle back around to park some asshole truck in front of the doors.” He said, cussing as the ropes put up for a few more moments before finally falling away.

The confusion only lasted for about that long. The main body of vampires were still picking themselves or their friends up off the ground, but the explosion hadn’t touched me, or the boss, or his cronies. Too much of a buffer. It didn’t quite make sense–propane tanks, large enough to run two different industrial gas stoves, and they hadn’t blown the entire place skyhigh?

Probably not the smartest thing to think about while running from a literal bloodthirsty horde, but King was laying down cover fire as we ran back into the smoldering wreckage of the kitchen so I had a bit of room to breathe. (Bullets can’t kill vampires, but they still feel pain and their bodies take a minute to adjust to the shock of getting shot.) Clearly, King hadn’t completely emptied the tanks before starting the fire—presumably to save my sorry ass from becoming vampire-dinner—but as it was, the current fire wasn’t going to be enough to take care of the rest of the nest by a long shot. They’d escape through some way or another before the fire spread enough to do its job—which would mean that we completely blew our chance at this.

Unless we set off the rest of the propane.

“I’ve got a really stupid plan.” I called back. It was a longshot, but some of these restaurants didn’t have their own propane tanks. I wasn’t sure if that applied in New Orleans, much less to this bar in particular, but if we could find access to the pipeline on the street, we’d be able to take out a lot more than just the bar. Maybe even the entire block. Hell if I knew if there was even enough gas in those pipes to cause an explosion that big without letting it build up first, but it was our only shot. “Should be a natural gas pipe running under the street—if we can find the sewers, we can probably find the pipeline too. Take that out, and . . .”

“Boom. Yeah, alright, exterminator.” We just ran at that point, but not before King slammed the backdoor shut, pulling a nearby dumpster in front of it like it was no big deal. Normal vampires were a bit stronger than humans, but King? He must’ve been in a whole ‘nother league, just from that. Didn’t really think much of it at the time, though. I was too busy prying the manhole cover out of the ground with a piece of scrap for an improvised hook. It came up with a good bit of force, but King stopped me before I could climb down.

“This is where your job ends, I’m afraid.” It was the least pretentious thing he said to me since we’d met, which was more worrying than I’d like to admit.

“The hell do you mean? We still have half of a nest to take care of.” I’d shoved his hand off my arm. He just grinned back, smiling that same damn sharktooth smile as he did when we met. Same smile as whenever he held me down in that seat.

There was no humor in it. There never was. Just that sense of waiting for the right time to move in. The right time to corner his prey.

I didn’t think there could be a better moment than now. An entire nest, ripe for the taking. “I think you misunderstand. I have a nest to take care of. You were just helping. And you’d damn well get your ass out of here before this place goes up in flames, or the Bureau will be on my ass for months.”

“You better be damn sure you know what you’re doing.” I said, even as I moved out the way. King just laughed.

“How hard can it be? I break any pipes I see, wait a minute, and light a match. You just worry about getting far enough away, exterminator. Vampires are my area of expertise.”

I be damned if I didn’t feel sorry for the blood-drunk fuckers for it, too.

I was still running a few minutes later whenever the explosion shook the ground. It lit up the city like the world’s largest bonfire for a few moments, before it dimmed down into an angry glow on the horizon. Smoke filled the sky like thunderclouds, and it was only a few moments later whenever fire truck sirens started blaring. It took them half a day to stop the fires that broke out after the explosion, I heard. Burned down half the French Quarter, too.

King took his sweet goddamned time lighting up that match, but it was enough for the natural gas to fill the area. I still don’t want to think about how much that must have cost the Bureau in damages to the city, but the accounting part of the operation was never my problem. I do know that they printed something in the papers about a catastrophic failure with the city’s natural gas lines, but it never even made it to the news stations, much less the internet.

I know that blast didn’t take care of all of the vampires. There was no way that a few of them didn’t manage to weasel out of the building before the flames took it, and I wasn’t too surprised whenever I heard a few exterminators in the area talking about having cases taken over by the feds in New Orleans—but even that was pretty quick to stop. King worked fast, I’d give him that.

I was out of the city pretty damn fast, but I was expecting it whenever I woke up to a silver truck idling in my driveway. Took my time getting ready, too, just to pay him back for my almost-death, but I knew I owed the man a beer.

And that time, we didn’t go to some shitty honky tonk—I got to choose.

That was that, for the most part. We kept in contact, and every now and then King would call about some other nest popping up in my area, but they were much smaller, much more manageable without the use of blowing up entire city-blocks.

I think this just about wraps up this story, but again, comment if you have any more questions about the work, or how to become an exterminator. It’ll be a lot more tame for you, I bet, but you can count on some nice paydays if stuff like this ever does turn your way, and you have the stomach for it.

[rubysunnday]

rooftops

A/N: The finale to my part in Olive's (@lxncelot) , writing challenge! This is fic 3 out of 3 (congrats if you made it this far, well done!) Again, prompts are all from Olive's dialogue and song prompt list) : 3) “I’ll miss this — us.” | 17) “Are we friends?”`| 26) “I could be in love with someone like you.” | rooftop kiss — james horner

Fic 1 | Fic 2 | Fic 3

The wind was howling outside the whaling hut. It was so harsh the windows and doors were rattling in their frames, fighting to stay put. But the two occupants inside didn't notice. They were both too cold and uncomfortable and pointedly ignoring the other to do much more than sit by the fire, bundled in furs, wearing someone else's clothes underneath.

Of course, they were both as far apart from each other as physically possible whilst also staying within the warmth of the fire. Matthias was silent. Y/N was silent. Neither said a word.

Matthias leant forward and poked the fire with the poker, nudging the logs around. They sparked and crackled as fresh wood was added, feeding the fire. Matthias glanced over at Y/N, barely visible under the furs. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"That does not matter," Matthias said, leaning back. "Because you're so cold it means you don't feel hunger. Your body needs to eat."

"I'm fine. I just want to sleep," Y/N muttered, tightening the furs around her, trying to block him out.

Matthias looked back at the pot that was simmering over the fire. "If you sleep, you'll likely not wake up again."

"Oh, good, that saves you from having to kill me," Y/N said, refusing to look at him.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now," Matthias replied, rolling his eyes as he spooned the soup into two bowls. "Now, eat," he said, holding the bowl out to her.

Y/N reluctantly reached out a hand from underneath the furs and took the bowl, putting it on the floor in front of her. "And if I don't want to eat?"

"Then you'll succumb to hypothermia and pass out," Matthias said, shrugging. "All Drüskelle learn that mistake in their first few months. Most recover. Some don't. Brum always says that a Drüskelle-"

"If I eat the damn soup, will you shut up?" Y/N snapped, turning to glare at him.

Matthias nodded. He watched Y/N intently as she picked up the bowl and took a small sip of the soup, letting it digest before taking another sip.

"It's good soup," she reluctantly admitted, dipping her spoon back in. "If you've poisoned it, I won't mind dying this way."

"For Saint's sake," Matthias muttered, swearing in Fjerdan under his breath. "I haven't poisoned it! I am eating it too."

Y/N raised her eyebrows but returned to her soup.

Silence fell in the whaling hut again.

"You can have the bed."

Y/N looked over at Matthias as she finished her soup. "Don't be ridiculous, there's room for two of us." Matthias was silent so Y/N looked at him again. "Oh, don't tell me little Matthias is scared of sleeping next to a woman."

"I am not..." He paused, forcing himself to calm down. "I am not scared."

"Good, then we will before sleep in the bed," Y/N said, standing up, setting her half-eaten soup aside.

Matthias reluctantly stood up too. He watched as Y/N clambered onto the bed, wrapping herself up in the furs and getting comfortable.

"Oh for Saint's sake, stop being such a prune and come here," she snapped. "You're the one going on about hypothermia and yet you're over there, freezing."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, look how the tables have turned," she muttered.

Matthias climbed into the other side of the bed and lay down on the very edge - as far away as possible from Y/N.

"Drüskelle," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Do you want to freeze to death? No? Then move closer."

He shuffled closer.

"Closer."

Mattthias shuffled even closer. Y/N could feel his cold skin against her back and shivered slightly.

"There, now neither of us will die in the night and we can go back to hating each other in the morning, happy?"

Matthias grunted, burying himself under the furs. Y/N turned onto her side and pulled the furs up over her shoulder, tucking them around her. She closed her eyes and wriggled down a bit, getting comfortable.

The wind kept on howling.

Matthias awoke suddenly as something jolted him. He sat up, expecting to see Y/N standing over him with a knife, about to cut out his heart. But the room was empty. It took him a moment to realise that someone was crying and that the someone was lying next to him.

He looked down at her and could see the tears falling down her face, the terror clearly written on her face as she relived something. Matthias wasn't sure why, but he felt his heart ache for the girl. He wasn't immune to nightmares - no one was.

Part of him wanted to leave her. A Grisha deserved to live through the terrors they had seen as punishment. But he couldn't believe that this girl - barely younger than him - could be so heartless and brutal. at such a young age, what could she have possibly experienced and seen that would have traumatised her in such a way.

Matthias reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Roëd," he said, for he didn't know her true name. Neither one had decided to share that information.

Y/N let out a panicked yelled and sat up, almost falling out of the bed. She pushed Matthias' hand away, flinging back all of the furs until she was just in the shirt and pants she'd found in the corner of the hut. Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and bolted from the room and out into the cold, cold night.

Matthias quickly got up and followed after her, not wanting her to get lost in the Fjerdan landscape or end up being attacked because, despite the death threats and the mutual hated, he did care for her. She'd saved him from the shipwreck and, somehow, they were still going.

Y/N fell to her knees in the snow - in the dark - and plunged her hands into the cold, wet snow, needing it to ground her and wake her up from her nightmare. Matthias stood in the doorway, watching warily in the background.

"Sorry," Y/N said quietly, her voice almost being lost in the wind. She sniffled and ducked her head, hiding her face. "I'm sorry."

Matthias approached cautiously. He hovered behind her for a moment before kneeling down behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry for something you can't control."

Y/N chuckled, a shiver wracking through her body. "You surprised that Grisha have nightmares too?" She asked, turning to look at him. "That we're human?"

Matthias was silent. Y/N scoffed quietly, knowing she was right.

Their silent argument ended abruptly when a wolf let out a loud howl, only a few feet away. Both Y/N and Matthias looked up, struggling to see the animal through the dark and blinding snow.

The wolf stalked forward, baring its teeth at Y/N. She didn't move.

"Don't attack it," Matthias said quietly, slowly rising to his feet.

"No offence, Drüskelle, but I'm not going to let a wolf attack me because it's a sacred animal to you," Y/N hissed.

"Just wait," Matthias insisted. "Let him move first. If he attacks first then we know."

"And if he just stands there?"

"Then we wait."

The wolf snarled, taking another step forward. It howled. And then turned around and walked off.

"Get up, slowly," Matthias said, holding a hand out to Y/N.

Y/N reached behind her and took his hand, letting him pull her into his side. Matthias wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to warm Y/N up, as they watched the wolf walk off into the night.

"I've never seen a wolf just leave before," Y/N said quietly, shivering under Matthias' arm.

"They're mainly peaceful if not provoked," Matthias replied.

"As are Grisha."

Matthias looked down at her, his eyes finding hers. He looked at her for a moment in silence. Y/N looked up at him. She met his gaze for only a few seconds before she swayed against him, her knees giving out and plunging her back into the snow.

Matthias fell to the snow with her, pulling her into his side and putting an arm under her legs, another around her back, and lifting her up out of the snow. He carried her back inside, sitting her in front of the fire.

He grabbed the furs off the bed and piled them onto her, wrapping them around her shivering form. Y/N didn't protest, her eyes closing involuntarily as she tried to stay focused on the fire.

"Now who's dying of hypothermia," she muttered, her teeth chattering as she gave Matthias a half-hearted smile.

Matthias sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder as he tried to warm her up.

"For a man who hunts Grisha for a living, you are very determined to keep me alive," Y/N said quietly.

Matthias sighed to himself. "It was Grisha who killed my entire family. They set the village on fire and let it burn. My mother, sister and father all died. Because of Grisha."

Y/N was silent. Eventually, she spoke, her eyes focused on the fire. "Not all Grisha are good, Druskelle. Not all Grisha are bad. Like people. The Grisha who murdered your family are the minority. We are not all like that. And we are certainly not witches. We create from elements that already exist in the world."

"Such as?"

Y/N pulled her arm out from under the furs. She looked up at Matthias. "Are we friends?"

Matthias nodded. "We are."

Y/N nodded. She held her hand palm up and then made a scooping motion, her eyes closed. She felt Matthias stiffen as fire appeared in her hand, orange flames dancing around her fingers.

"It's not magic. I simply summon all the combustible gases in the world, for there are thousands, and fire appears." Y/N waved her hand and the fire vanished. She pulled her hand back inside the furs. "That's all it is. Small Science, as we call it. No magic."

Matthias nodded. He didn't seem to be able to speak. He eventually decided on what he wanted to say. "What was your nightmare about? Only if you want to tell me."

Y/N shifted closer to Matthias. "I'm sure you've heard of General Kirigan - or the Darkling."

"I think it'd be impossible to find someone in all of Ravka, Fjerda and beyond who hasn't heard of it."

"It?"

"It was not a man, nor a human. It is simply it."

Y/N smiled to herself. It slowly faded as she returned to her mind. "I was a Grisha under his orders when Sankt Alina first appeared. I was fresh out of school - a young Grisha desperate to prove herself. And he used me like he used hundreds of others. I was trapped under his control until King Nikolai broke us out.

"But the Darkling had done enough by then. Being used by him - controlled by him is something I do not wish to repeat. Sometimes in the night, I think I see him. I know he is long dead and burnt but... I hear his voice in the wind, I see his shadows in the darkness and all I can think about is what he did to me."

Matthias was silent. He knew about the Darkling. Everyone did. But very few knew about what it did to the young Grisha under its command.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, by the way," Y/N said quietly. "I feel like since I'm pouring my heart out to you, we should know each other's names."

Matthias smiled. "I'm Matthias Helvar."

Y/N nodded. She dropped her head onto Matthias' shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Matthias."

Matthias sat there, an arm around her shoulders, watching the flames dance away until morning came.

It took them five days to find civilisation. The snowstorm passed after three days and it took them two days of walking - and almost falling off a cliff - to reach safety.

The inn wasn't much - it was full of Fjerdan sailors on their way out or back from long trips out at sea. But it was warm and it was safe - for now.

"I don't know how I feel about stealing," Matthias said as Y/N unlocked the door to their room.

"I didn't steal, I borrowed," Y/N corrected, walking inside.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Indirectly, yes."

Matthias laughed. Y/N stared at him.

"Saints, Matthias, I didn't know you could laugh!" She exclaimed.

Matthias chuckled as he took his coat off and sat down on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"It appears we have learnt a lot about each other this past week," he said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N approached him and sat down on his right, dropping her head to his shoulder. "You know, I have no idea what Roëd means."

"What?"

"The other night, when I was having a nightmare, you called me Roëd..."

Matthias' smile grew. "It means red in Fjerdan."

"Red? Why red?"

"Well, when we first met -"

"When you kidnapped me, you mean."

Matthias rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a red skirt, like the one you're wearing now. Since I didn't know your name... I thought Roëd was subtle."

Y/N nodded, a smile working its way onto her face. "I like it."

Matthias put his arm around Y/N's shoulders - an action he'd found himself doing numerous times over the past week. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, gently following an imaginary line.

"What will you do now?" Matthias asked quietly.

The question had been praying on his mind for days now. What happens next. He could easily go back to Brum, resume his training, tell his tale. Y/N could easily return to wherever she came from - carry on leaving her life. Nothing would change.

Except something had changed. The world had shifted. Just a bit, but enough to know that there was no going back to the before.

"Find a ship back to Ketterdam," Y/N said softly. Her left hand was entwined with his, her fingers playing with his. "Tell my boss what happened and hope he gives me my job back. What about you?"

"I don't know."

"Have I changed you that much, Druskelle?" Y/N asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

Matthias looked down at her. "Perhaps. What is... Ketterdam like?"

"First of all, excellent pronunciation," Y/N said, looking back down again. "Second of all, it's shit."

"Then why would you want to go back?"

"Because it was the only place to welcome me after I left Ravka. I fitted in seamlessly there. No questions were asked about me or my powers. I got a job and they treat me well. It works for me."

"I cannot imagine what it must be like to be... persecuted everywhere you go."

"Saints, I have changed you!" Y/N said, looking back at him. She smiled. "It's hard. Trusting people is harder. I haven't used my power in years as a result but... I prefer it that way, oddly. I was used and wanted for my power in Ravka. In Ketterdam I am just me. I'm just Y/N."

Matthias stared at the wall for a moment. "I'd like to go somewhere like that. Where it is simply just... you and I. Simply Y/N and Matthias."

"No prejudice."

"No hatred."

"Just us."

Matthias looked back at her and leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a kiss before she had a chance to move. He leant back and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'll miss this," Matthias said quietly, knowing deep down, that it would inevitably end as all good things did. "Us."

Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. "You know, Matthias, I could be in love with someone like you."

"I know. As could I."

And that was the truth. She could love him and he could love her. Despite the ways they'd been raised. Despite what they'd lived through and experienced at the hands of their people, both of them, Grisha and Druskelle, could and did love each other.

It was the truth and the pain of it. Knowing that their love was never meant to be.

And that it was never destined to last.

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

Headcanons For Dating George Weasley

request: hey!!!! i love ur work sm, i reread ur headcanons more times than i’d like to admit!! any concerning remus, ron or george would be bloody brilliant!! like how any of the three would be jealous, or dating them would include or basically anything i will immediately combust into flames!!!

note: hi everyone!! long time no posting! i feel like i’ve been cheating on you all for my mcu account @avengers-age-of-fanfics lmao, but i promise im back and i have a few things in my drafts so keep a lookout! thank u for staying patient :)

-

george has had his eyes on you for a long time, always trying to be in the same classes as you and trying to be your partner in every class.

will literally owl you and ask what classes you’re taking just so he can be in the same ones with you.

before you even get together, fred has had to deal with george talking about you. all. the. time.

it’s not like fred doesn’t like you - he does! but hearing george talk about you 24/7 is a bit suffocating.

his words may mix up and he may stumble, but his feelings are the same and fred can’t help but facepalm.

“isn’t she/he/they just gorgeous, fred?” “i get it, georgie. you’re obsessed and won’t do anything about it.”

george definitely stares at you in class and if you catch him, he’ll either whistle and play it off or wink at you, wishing he was confident to just ask you out already.

gets hit a couple times by fred for being a creep and staring at you for too long. george definitely has a bruise forming at the back of his head.

fred would tell george to “grow a pair and get on with it, you git!”

you’d be so confused and look at george with a slight smile on your face, asking what his twin means.

george would sigh and come clean, telling you how he’s had feelings for you for a few months now and he can’t help but admire how beautiful/handsome you are.

you’d giggle, looking up at george and wrapping your arms around his neck, saying you like him too.

george then proceeds to kiss you all over your face, making you laugh even more.

“finally!” fred would yell from behind the door.

NEVER confusing him with fred. both twins would be surprised as to how you could tell them apart, and he’d love that about you - not comparing them or ‘guessing’ on who is who.

george takes you on many dates into hogsmeade and loves spoiling you over little items and trinkets

keeping a little box of the items he buys you and if he ever finds it, he will definitely tear up.

has many nicknames for you, mostly including “love” “sweetheart” and “darling”

if george is feeling extra love-y, will probably slide a “sweet girl/boy” in there.

always saves you a seat at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, right next to him.

will steal food off your plate when you’re not looking or when you’re having a conversation.

george loves the height difference between you two, always craning his head to look down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

even if you are taller than him, he just enjoys looking at you

loves smelling your hair and kissing your head.

small moments of pda, like holding hands and kissing your cheek. not a huge pda guy but will sometimes do it just to show that you’re taken

has a really cute habit of kissing your knuckles or just your hand in general

george honestly just loves holding onto you, whether it be your hand, waist, thigh under the table, anything. he loves the feeling of security he gets when he feels your warmth.

he almost melts when you squeeze your hand back, rubbing your thumb against his hand.

gives you piggyback rides :’)

while he isnt into pda, when you two are alone, george certainly is the exact opposite!!!!!

he loves cuddling you and kissing you almost every minute

holds you on his lap whenever you both are alone, mindlessly rubbing his hand over your legs/thighs. will tell you how beautiful/handsome you are.

if you are chest-to-back, he loves just simply holding your hands in his, comparing the sizes and whispering in your ear.

lays on top of you just for fun and will give you kisses all over your face.

big spoon whenever you two cuddle. obsessed with the feeling of holding onto you and having his nose either in your hair or neck.

however he does have his days when he needs to be the little spoon and be cuddled by you

loves making you laugh if his nose or stubble tickles you.

crawling into bed with him when you can’t sleep and he automatically wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, legs tangled.

george will squeeze you, just to make sure that you’re real and with him.

is lowkey very jealous and protective of you.

he’s always been fred’s shadow, so whenever he sees someone flirting with what’s his, george gets very protective and is sure to make known that you’re his.

can sometimes shut down and think he isn’t good enough for you, that you like fred better.

you will not tolerate your boyfriend, your little bby, feeling like this, “georgie, i love YOU. sure, i love fred as a brother, but i love you as my partner. you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

he’d smile at you, worry still gracing his face, but he’d still be thankful, “thank you, my love. . . cuddle time?”

“just gotta remind my boyfriend of how wonderful he is, georgie. c’mon, let’s go cuddle. i’ll be the big spoon tonight :)”

you love stealing his jumpers, especially the one molly made him

spending lots of time at the burrow and wearing many of his clothes just because they smell like george

“why don’t you just wear your own, love?” he’d never admit that he loves seeing you in his clothes

“they dont smell like you, georgie.”

molly adoring you and george being proud for having you as a girlfriend/boyfriend/partner

being very close to ginny and having girl nights with her and hermione, which sometimes makes george jealous.

OR having boys nights with ron, harry, fred, percy, bill and charlie - whenever they were home.

learning from both the twins how to pull off great pranks - which is a mistake.

telling him you love him every chance you get, making him blush and kiss your cheek.

being each other’s first time and he is so sweet about it, making sure everything is perfect and that you’re okay.

george loves whispering in your ear and telling you how good you are for him.

while you aren’t happy about him and fred dropping out to start a joke shop, you are still there to support them both.

becoming their financial advisor and overall advisor for everything they do.

george telling you how much he appreciates you whenever you both leave the shop together to go home, holding hands.

fighting by his side during the wizarding war and being scared for fred when he is injured, but thank merlin, fred makes a full recovery.

moving in together after the war, realizing you could never leave his side. he then surprises you by proposing, saying that if you died, he’d never be able to live with himself.

george loves you for who you are, and vise versa. you’d never change anything about him because he is his own person, and you fell in love with george weasley.

[persephones-wren]

heyy! Could I request a Kaz brekker and reader fic where shes really sensitive and kind and the opposite of him and they're dating but he seems to be spending more time with inej planning a heist and reader gets jealous and during the heist she saved inej from a bullet, getting hurt in the process and tells Kaz,in a delirious state, that shes happy she saved inej for him and everyone helps him plan a picnic for her while shes healing and suprises her? Its quite a long request but it would be wonderful if you wrote it!! thanks💕

Ends of the Earth (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Hope you enjoy reading! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Warnings: reader gets shot, that's about it?

Genre: Angst to (minimal) Fluff

Word Count: 2126

You’re not sure how you could have ever expected him to return what you felt for him.

You and Kaz were essentially opposites- he was a hardened criminal, you were more of a person who just ran with the wrong people. He was mean and commanding, you were sweet and endearing. Where he’d kill people with no hesitation, you’d probably be torn over it for the rest of your life.

Though the Barrel seemed to have no room for someone as kind as you, you had found yourself to fit fine along with rest as someone to watch over the rest. Your skill of memorization was appreciated when Kaz needed to reflect back on a certain part of the plan, and besides, having someone counteract his cruelty was appreciated by the others.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to be a part of the Crows. Watching Inej stand by his side, watching them work together like well-oiled parts of the same machine, it was bittersweet. You couldn’t help the jealousy that overtook you, but kindness was ingrained in you. You couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t hate Inej.

“So we’ll take them out there. Inej, I’m going to need your backup here.” His voice snaps you back into the moment.

“Got it.” She nods.

“Before then, though, You’ll be stationed here. Y/N, I’m going to want you to stick close to her. She can fight for the both of you in case anything goes wrong.”

You’re useless, you berate yourself. You’re going to need Inej to save you. Maybe if you could defend yourself the way she could, he’d like you more.

“Understood.”

“That should wrap everything up. We’ll meet at the usual spot tonight. We’ll take transport there and sneak in. From there, everything should go according to plan.”

…

Night quickly falls, and you’re all gathered.

“To reiterate, I’m going to go grab the paintings. Inej and Y/N, stick together and communicate when it’s safe. Jesper, you’re going to shoot out the lights when signaled, and make sure that carriages are ready when it’s time. Wylan, wait it out here with him. If all goes to shit, blow this place. Clear?”

Echoes of agreement echo from around you, and you nod. This should be an easy heist.

“Y/N, c’mon. Let’s head over this way.”

Inej takes your wrist and leads you to the edge of the building. Her stare is intimidating as she surveys the building, before turning back to you.

“I’ll scale the walls, and then I’ll use the rope to pull you up. We can wait on the top of the building for a bit, before slipping in through a window. That okay?”

Damn her for even being considerate to you. And you still have the nerve to be jealous over her. Her and Kaz are so similar- they’d be perfect for each other.

You still can’t find it in your heart to be completely happy about that.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your reverie, and give a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll spot you. Hopefully I’ll be able to get up there…”

Inej throws you a reassuring smile back. “You’ll be okay.”

You watch with awe as she scales the building with no issue, truly living up to the nickname she had been given. She’s nearly invisible as she reaches the top, you note. She’s incredible.

You wait on the ground patiently as Inej lowers the rope, before you hear voices.

You stare up at her, wide-eyed, before running and diving behind a tree.

“The wine good tonight?”

It’s a guard. Your heart rate quickens, and bring a hand over your mouth. Quiet your breathing. If they catch you, you’re dead, and you’ll be the dead weight of this mission.

“I don’t know, haven’t had a drink yet. Maybe once everyone’s gone. Ha! The Stadwatch won't penalize me if there’s no guests to guard!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! All we have to make sure is no scum tries to steal the painting.”

“Like anybody would dare show their face here.”

The other guard laughs, and you wait with baited breath as they finally round the corner.

You check both directions, before you quietly slip out.

“Inej?” you’re quiet and slightly shaken. Death and capture was always palpable on these missions, but it had come swinging at you quicker than you had expected. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” her voice comes from above. “I’m here. You’re fast on your feet. Good thinking.”

“Thank you, and thank you for waiting.”

The rope drops down for the second time, and you take a hold of it, pulling yourself up with a bit of her help. Your hands finally grasp the ledge of the building, and Inej extends one of her hands to help pull you up. You’re hauled onto the rooftop, and though it’s a bit ungraceful, you’re okay.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem.”

Your eyes are both directed on the walkways below.

“You scout out for guards down there, and I’ll check for guards in the windows? We should signal to Kaz soon.”

“Sure.”

You keep a careful eye down below, hearing Inej scurry to different window points. You watch as she slips to one of them, peering through.

“Just our luck,” she mutters cheerfully. “This window’s fine. Let’s open it. I’ll go first, but send a flare for Kaz. I’m going to need that window open as soon as that flare goes up.”

“Alright.” You take a deep breath, before shooting the flare off. Inej thrusts open the window and pulls you in behind her.

You watch a figure walk past the doorway. That should be Kaz, and now, he should be slipping past you to go to the next doorway to take the painting-

“To the roof again, now-” Inej says, and starts to step out behind the boxes, and the figure turns back.

That’s not Kaz.

A click.

She’s going to be shot.

You’re acting on pure impulse and nerves when you shove her aside, and the bullet pierces through your shoulder. You crumble, and Inej tries to keep you from completely collapsing.

You grit your teeth. You’re trying not to let tears stream down your face, but everything hurts and Inej is over you and she’s saying something but you can’t hear her-

You try to force yourself to sit up, and you see a cane poised to hit the guard over the head. You turn away, and thank your murky hearing that you can’t hear the scream that emits from the guard.

Kaz.

“What happened?” His voice is losing it’s cool quickly.

“She was shot by the guard, I don’t think she’s quite registering it-” Inej’s voice is more panicked, but she forces herself to be analytical. “She’s going to need treatment, and quickly.”

“Okay,” he breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go down the hall, grab the paintings, and meet Jesper by the transportation. I’ll get her out.”

“Okay.”

Inej dashes down the hall, and he takes in your state. Your pupils are blown wide, and you’re trying not to cry, but it hurts.

“Kaz,” you breathe out. “Thank the Saints. Is Inej okay?”

He frowns at that. What about Inej? Inej was fine, you’d been shot. Did you have no self-preservation instincts?

“Inej is fine,” he mutters.

“That’s good,” you sigh out. “That’s good. I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you. Though I’m glad she’s okay, for your sake.”

His frown deepens. “I’m sorry? For my sake?”

“You’re in love with her. She with you. You guys can live your happy ending. As happy as the Barrel can get, anyway.” Your smile is slightly delirious, and he knows you’re not thinking rationally.

“Stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t-” you cough, “think I’d die, but if it’s for you and Inej, then I think it’s worth it.”

“Nobody is worth your life,” he nearly yells. “You’re not going to die, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

“Please, just let me stay here. They’re going to find you if you don’t.” “I don’t care.”

He’s pulling off his jacket and carefully using it as a tourniquet for your shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Kaz, please-”

“Can you walk.” It’s a statement, maybe a threat.

“Maybe- maybe with a bit of support,” your words are weak. You’re running out of time. “The world looks sideways, though- face it, Kaz, I’m not going to make it. I don’t want to be dead weight, your touch aver-”

“I’m not going to combust into fucking flames if you lean on me! Goddamnit, let me help you!”

His anger startles you. You hold back more tears as he pulls you up. At least he took the care to pull you up by the other arm. “Okay.”

The world is spinning and his face isn’t clear, and time seems to speed up as both of you go through the hallways, finally meeting Jesper and Inej in the courtyard.

“Bloody hell,” Jesper mutters.

“Go. To the White Rose. Nina should be able to do something.” Kaz leaves no room for argument. You’re passed out now, and he’s almost thankful you can’t feel anything as the carriage rushes through harsh weather and bumpy roads.

I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you.

Were you that oblivious? Did you think he was in love with Inej? How could you be so blind?

How could you sacrifice yourself so he could live what you thought to be a “happy ending”?

You didn’t plan it, did you?

He carefully takes off one of his gloves, hovering his hand over your forehead.

You’re still warm.

He doesn’t believe in Saints, but now, he’s almost praying to them that you’ll be okay.

Please be okay.

...

Inej glances at Kaz, standing over her in the White Rose.

She’s been out for days at this point. Nina could only do so much, with whatever corpse-like power she’d gained. The rest had to be natural healing.

Inej clears her throat. “She’d go to the ends of the world for you. For your happiness.” Kaz remains still.

“Don’t make her do so again.”

..

Your eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room nearly rendering you blind.

Your shoulder hurts like a bitch, but besides that, you’re alive.

Happiness and heaviness fill your heart at once. You’re alive, you’re okay. What had you said to Kaz in your state?

Hopefully nothing stupid.

“You’re awake. I’m glad.”

Kaz’s voice comes from the edge of the room. He’s leaning on the wall, cane in hand. When was Kaz upfront with his emotions?

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

“Days?” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

That’s a lie. You thought you were dead, for sure. He doesn’t have to know that.

“...Right.” He’s skeptical, but pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to you. “This may be a bit early, but would you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Is he kicking you out of the Crows? Why would he want to go on a walk just after you’ve woken up? You’re screwed.

He waits for you to stand, and then you’re both walking side by side, into the gardens of the courtyard. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a small place under an apple tree. A picnic blanket is spread out, with a small basket laying on top of it.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a brief smile flashes across his face. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Kaz- what is all of this?”

“You said you loved me.”

Horror paints across your face, and you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I know you love Inej, that- was a bit unprompted of me, I’m sorry-”

He blinks at your rushed words. “Y/N. I’m not in love with Inej. She’s part of the Crows, as are you. Though- if you mean it,” he clears his throat, “that you love me- then take this as a surprise first date.”

Your expression morphs into a shy smile. He’s probably not ready to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He feels the same way.

“Happy first date, then.”

You’re both talking and eating, small smiles on both of your faces, a stark contrast to the harsh atmosphere of Ketterdam. It doesn’t matter to him. You’re alive, you’re safe, and you’re with him. You’d go to the end of the world for him. He’d do the same for you.

He loves you.