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hrina · 3 years

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The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon.

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #uhhhh yeah so here u go. if this flops it never happened i guess #hunterry #harry writing

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lemonlushff-iy · 3 years

Photo

History Lesson in how OLR came to be...

A year ago, @clearwillow, @dawnrider, and @keichanz had just finished what would be known as the spontaneous Vday “hot off” of 2020, and it was decided that white day was going to just be a repeat of what we had just done...only we wanted everyone to participate and it was going to be open to all, and you could do whatever you wanted. Tease us. Post completed pieces. What have you.

Shortly after, I fell into a VERY bad depression. I’m not shy about it. I’m not shy about my feelings or saying I’m hurt. I think people should be able to say that, and have it not be taboo. So I’m open about it. I wasn’t well. I felt inadequate. Like what I wrote was terrible. Like people within the fandom ONLY liked me because I was there for them 24/7 hyping up their work and singing their praises. I was the fandom hype girl. It felt like none of my friendships were REAL.

And I’d been ok with that.

Until I wasn’t.

And a year ago today...I decided that I wanted to work past those feelings. I’d been struggling with them for about two days at this point, and I’d been looking at Carra’s pixiv and was completely CAPTIVATED by her work. Specifically, New Moon Ride, which has since been colorized. I was nervous and so low...I’d removed myself almost entirely from discord and tumblr, but I really wanted to participate in White Day, and I had this...idea in my head about this girl returning home and having a fling with a cattle rancher. I wanted it to be like Sweet Home Alabama (which is an Easter Egg for those of you on Patreon, and something to look for for those who aren’t).

Needless to say...

My depression made me miss the mark on that...

But I very nervously went to Carra who was this FANDOM GOD and asked “Hey...Would it be ok if I did this?” Needless to say...She said yes, and in doing so...She gave me this AMAZING gift.

It was supposed to be a one shot just for White Day. I’d INTENDED for it to be a PWOP. The depression got the best of me though, and that...Clearly didn’t happen. Instead I started pouring all of these feelings I had inside of me into this story instead...And it’s become one of the greatest gifts of my life. It’s my emotional support fic. It takes all the bad and painful away from me. And I WISH that what I’d been feeling a year ago was the end of it, but it was only the beginning of it...And One Last Ride has been there for me for all of it.

Providing me with an outlet for all of the feelings I’ve had. It’s allowed me to deal with a LOT. Drama. Friendships that died and times when I was shut out. Feelings regarding my own late father. General depression.

One Last Ride has become deeply meaningful and a piece of my SOUL.

So...Thank you Carra for this AMAZING gift you’ve given me. You never knew when you drew that photo what you were about to unleash...But...I’m OH so very glad you did...

And in the spirit of how I started One Last Ride a year ago...

I offer you ALL a piece of post canon smut. It’s just a ficlet because...I just FINALLY finished the FIRST ACTUAL smut in One Last Ride (nearly a year later) and wanted to save my bandwidth for MORE smut...Can ya blame me?

And now, a short fic...

“Inuyasha...she could hear…” Kagome weakly protested, trying to push her husband away from her.

“She won’t notice,” he soothed, continuing to suckle at her pulse point. “She’s watching that thing with the talking animals.”

“That narrows it down,” she gasped, feeling his tongue burn a path up the column of her neck.

“I turned on the tv and she pointed. I weren’t about to ask questions,” he growled, pushing his hips into the swell of her ass, allowing her to feel the hardness between his legs. “‘Sides. I’m still cold from building that damn igloo with her. I need my sexy wife to warm me up.”

Yes...but they had been so cute. She loved watching the two of them play together. And watching him bite the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing when it kept collapsing. She knew that even though it hadn’t worked, he was going to go back out there tonight and figure out how to build Moroha her igloo. Even if it took him until 3 am, he was going to surprise his princess with one in the morning, no matter what.

And she loved that about him.

“Giving her a shower didn’t do the trick?”

“Please,” he snorted. “All it did was leave me soaked. And all I wanna do is make you wet,” he murmured, slipping a hand under her shirt and laying his palm against the soft, relatively flat skin of her stomach.

“Yash…”

“She won’t hear,” he promised, his hands coming to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. “Washer and dryer will be too loud and she will be too distracted…”

“But what about the cookies...”

“We still have ten minutes.”

“And when she tries to take them out of the oven on her own? She has a little too much of you in her, you know,” Kagome replied dryly as his fingers found the tip of her nipple. The pad of his thumb gently brushed against her sensitive skin, making her bite the inside of her cheek.

“Better make it eight then...”

“That sure of yourself,” she challenged, his gentle ministrations to her body was making it hard for her to continue to resist him.

“I know you, woman…” he growled as he reached out to find the doorknob of the laundry room, and swiveled the lock into place.

Good.

No interrupting daughters.

“I know what makes you wet,” he continued, pulling the lace cups of her bra down before lifting the wire frames up and away from her breasts to rest above them on her chest. He felt their weight in his palms, tweaking her nipples and making her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“D-do you now,” she breathed as he found the lobe of her ear, pulling it between his fangs and suckling on it.

“I think I do, Kags,” he smirked, one of his palms sliding down her rib cage and over the soft, silvery lines of her stomach to the band of her pants. He felt her freeze in his arms as his palms connected with those lines, and he kissed her that much harder.

She hated those lines. She’d done everything she could when she was pregnant to avoid them, but they came anyways, despite her efforts. She thought they made her ugly.

He thought they made her sexier.

“Stop it,” he reprimanded, kissing her jaw lovingly. He knew what that look meant. She was thinking about them again. How her body had changed since giving him the most precious gift in his life. He hated when she did that. “You’re beautiful. Fucking sexy as hell. I’ll tell you that every damn day ‘till I die. I wouldn't change a thing about you.”

“Yash,” she breathed, turning her head and allowing him to capture her lips in a sweet, loving kiss. He was so good with words...but his lips were even better at this. He had a way of reaffirming everything he said with his hands. His touch. His body.

The only sounds that could be heard in the small space of their laundry room, were the sounds of the dryer turning and spinning the wet clothes inside, and their heavy breathing. The sounds of their lips moving wetly against one another as he showered her with affection. Showed her how much he loved her. Expressed his need for her and her body.

Her hands slowly wound their way into his hair, finding his ears. She rubbed them between her finger tips, starting at the base and slowly working her way towards the fuzzy tips. He moaned against her lips and lifted her shirt, lowering his head to her soft breasts. His tongue found her nipples and she felt him swirl it around her sensitive flesh as his hands worked the band of her panties and leggings down her legs.

“Yash,” she moaned, his name clawing its way out of her throat against her will.

“Shhh...You need to keep it down, Darling,” he reprimanded, pulling away from her trembling form as he worked one of her feet out the bottom of the mess of clothing. “You don’t want her to hear.”

“I thought you said she wouldn’t be able to hear,” She replied, panic beginning to bloom in the pit of her stomach. Oh god...They hadn’t had any situations with Moroha yet, but she didn’t want to explain this to her daughter yet either.

“She can’t,” he soothed, the velvety tone of his voice slowly calming her as he lifted her leg over his shoulder, kissing her thigh. “But you can’t start getting loud neither. No screaming, remember? Anyone would be able to hear that. Demon blood or not.”

Her cheeks turned bright red at the reminder of just how loud she could be, and then red from the feeling of his tongue slipping between her lips. He zeroed in on her clit, and her nails scraped against his scalp. Soft little moans of pleasure crawled out of the back of her throat.

He used them as a guide as he slipped his fingers inside. Watched the trembling of her abdomen. The heaving of her breasts as she tried to steady her breathing.

And then she was gnashing her bottom lip, her face twisting and eyes screwing shut as her orgasm swept through her body. He held her, let her ride his face as she came - let her pull his hair and whimper his name against the palm of her hand.

When she’d finished, he pulled away from her and lowered his sweatpants and boxer briefs, allowing them to pool at his ankles as his hardness sprang free.

Fuck, he was so hard.

And she was so ready for him.

“Should have a few more minutes still,” he commented, turning her around against the washing machine. She lifted her leg, his hands coming to softly grip her delicate flesh in his palms and support her.

“Should?”

“I’ll hear when the timer goes off, don’t worry,” he soothed, lining the head of his cock up with her entrance. He slowly sank inside, his head falling to her shoulder, and kissed her neck. “God Kags…”

“Mmm…” she agreed, her head rolling back onto his shoulder as his fangs scraped against her pulse point.

He slowly thrust into her, his hips gaining in speed and setting a vigorous pace as he took her from behind. He sought out all the places he knew she loved, and his fingers brushed through the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs to locate her clit. The tips of his fingers swirled around it as he continued to work her from behind until the coil that had been tightening in her snapped.

The hand that had been holding her hip, guiding hers into his, released it to slap over her lips as he nervously glanced at the door.

“Shhh...Kags…” he grunted, his eyes screwing shut. He couldn’t take much more…

He was almost there…

“Cum for me, Yash,” she begged, lowering his hand so her words wouldn't be muffled.

“Kags…”

What was all he needed. He tumbled, over the edge of the abyss, allowing his orgasm to sweep through him as he spilled himself inside her.

“Yash,” she soothed, feeling his body go limp against hers. “What got into you today,” she throatily chuckled, and he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder blade.

“Nothing,” he sighed, burying his face into her neck and inhaling deeply as his cock slipped out from between her folds.

“Liar,” she teased, watching as he dropped to his knees to use his tongue and mouth to clean up the mess he’d made in her. “You normally keep it in your pants until she’s sleeping.”

Catching him red handed, was she?

He couldn’t lie. It wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“I want another one, Kags.”

“Another one?” she pressed, her brow furrowing in confusion, and he nervously nodded his head.

“Another baby. She’s getting older...And this house is too big for just the three of us...and I miss it. Having a baby around. And she wants a sibling too. All her friends have one. And I...I...I dunno...I just...Do.”

His words were so sweet. So soft and tender.

“Yash…”

“Don’t say no just yet,” he pleaded, pulling his sweatpants up as he stood. “Promise me you’ll think about it...And...And please don’t be mad...It’s been on ma mind a while, but you ain’t even ovulating now. But thinking about another one and how much fun we had trying ta get Mo...Well…”

So that was why. It all made sense now.

“I promise I’ll think about it Yash,” she grinned, pulling her leggings back up her legs and adjusting herself within the cups of her bra as the timer went off in the kitchen.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“That’s our cue,” he sighed, relief washing over him as he pulled away from her and slipped out of the laundry room.

She’d think about it. It weren’t a yes...but he didn’t need one right now. That could come later.

Right now, he just wanted her to think about the possibility of adding another one to their happily ever after.

And it was a pretty damn sweet happily ever after, if he did say so himself.

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyashafanfic #inuyasha #inukag #DAMNIT CARRA #Ode to Carra #Clearwillow #rancher #cattle rancher #western #romance #angst #one last ride #lemonlushff

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ibijau · 4 years

Note

firstly, i would like to apologize for the way that i saw the words “any ship” and instantly took them as a challenge to create new, bad ships. secondly, i am suggesting number 7 with lan xichen/wen xu. no, you did not misread that; mr capybara can get along with everyone so well that i’m assigning him an entirely new evil boyfriend. bonus points if you actually find a way to make this work in a canon or pre-canon universe, bc i sure can’t see one!

Holding their hair back as they vomit into the toilet

See, this is the one that got me in trouble. Because actually, that ship isn’t even that bad to me. I’m pretty sure it has been discussed several times on the xisang discord. And so I stupidly commented on tumblr that well, y’all think you’re giving bad ships but it’s not that awful. And boy oh boy, do I regret that now (not really, it’s gonna be fun)

warning for mentions of violence against a corpse, and for vomiting :)

The nausea hits Wen Xu when they pass through Qinghe, and doesn’t leave from that point on. It goes ever stronger as the cart gets closer to the Unclean Realm. If not for the man sitting next to him and throwing him weak smiles, Wen Xu would have jumped on his sword and ran away. This is a terrible, terrible plan, and he should have known better than to let Lan Xichen get plotting, and yet…

And yet, what choice did he have? Wen Xu doesn’t have his father and brother’s blind faith in Qishan Wen’s power. He understands the power of numbers, of good position, of sheer rage too. The instant Lotus Piers burned, he sent a letter to Lan Xichen, begging for his help. A desperate move after what happened with Qingheng-Jun, but Lan Xichen knows it was an accident. Back then too, they had a plan.

Hopefully, this one will work better.

As they fall into the shadows of the Unclean Realm’s high walls, Wen Xu starts fidgeting with the bandages on his face. If too much of his features show, if he is recognised… Nie Mingjue is on the frontlines, his little brother hidden far away in the Cloud Recesses, but Wen Xu’s face is one even lesser Nie cultivator will have seen at conferences. If he is seen, if he is spotted… this isn’t just about him, Lan Xichen too would…

“Calm down,” Lan Xichen whispers, taking his hands and forcing them away from his face. “I am well liked and well trusted here. And it’s only for a day or two, to avoid arousing suspicions. I always stop here when I’m in the area.”

Wen Xu, growing more nervous with every passing moment, grasps one of Lan Xichen’s wrists. Lan Xichen smiles as best as he can, and struggles against that grasp until they’re holding hands instead, their fingers tightly linked together. It feels more comforting that it should. Wen Xu has no faith in his father and brother, but he would follow Lan Xichen to the end of the world if the other man asked him too.

After a last squeeze, Lan Xichen lets go of Wen Xu’s hand and turns his gaze back to the doors of the Unclean Realm. He frowns and narrows his eyes, as if trying to see something, then turns deathly pale.

“Oh no,” he gasps.

That’s all the warning Wen Xu gets before he hears Nie Mingjue’s booming voice coming their way.

“Xichen! What are you doing here?”

Wen Xu shrinks on himself. He wants to take Lan Xichen’s hand again, to have the other man smile at him, look at him. He resists the impulse, fearful of attracting attention on himself, and watches instead as Lan Xichen smiles peacefully at the man who presents such danger to both of them.

“Mingjue-xiong, this is a surprise,” Lan Xichen says, sounding quite delighted to meet his friend. “I thought you’d be on the front.”

“I’ve just returned to do some decorating,” Nie Mingjue announces, leaning on the side of the cart. Wen Xu doesn’t look, but feels his gaze on him. “Who’s that with you, Xichen?”

“The heir of a small sect attached to Gusu Lan by marriage,” Lan Xichen flawlessly lies. “He was captured and wounded, but I freed him and I’m taking him to safety.”

The intensity of Nie Mingjue’s eyes on Wen Xu grows. They’re going to die, Wen Xu is certain of it. All these efforts, and they’re going to die, both of them.

They’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to…

“Well, I’ve got good news for him then!” Nie Mingjue announces smugly. “The war is going well. Help the man sit up, Xichen. I’ve got something to show that will please both of you.”

“Mingjue-xiong, it’s been a long day, I’d rather…”

“It’s on the way in,” Nie Mingjue explains. “Just sit him up so he doesn’t miss it.”

Lan Xichen’s face remains calm, but his hands are shaking as he helps Wen Xu sit up. In turn, Wen Xu doesn’t have to pretend too much when he leans against Lan Xichen’s side. His nausea is still there, stronger than ever. He must stink of fear so badly it’s a surprise that Nie Mingjue can’t smell it, when everyone knows the Nie are more beasts than humans.

As the cart starts moving, Wen Xu wonders what, exactly, he’s supposed to be seeing on his way in. There’s just not much around, and the bandages on his face do limit his field of vision.

Lan Xichen spots it before him.

Lan Xichen whose body turns to stone, and his grip on Wen Xu to iron.

There, right in the middle of the main yard of the Unclean Realm, there’s a high pike with a head on it. A head that Wen Xu knows too well, because it’s one he sees in every mirror, every puddle of water.

Bile hits the back of his throat, and he has to clench his teeth to avoid puking in public.

“We got him trying to retreat during our last battle,” Nie Mingjue explains proudly, mistaking their horrified silence for admiration perhaps. “He begged for his life like a dog and tried to pretend he wasn’t who we thought. Pathetic.”

In spite of the danger, Wen Xu blindly grasps Lan Xichen’s hand, desperately needing to ground himself.

That wasn’t the plan.

The plan, Wen Xu told his cousin a week ago, was for said cousin to disguise as him, mess up a battle, fake his suicide after that dishonour so nobody would look for Wen Xu, and then run back to his family and take them very far away from this war. Wen Xu gave the man gold, letters to guarantee his passage to safety, and placed his wife and children with Wen Qing’s people since nobody would dare to cross her.

Wen Xu’s cousin had just had his first son less than a year ago. Now little Wen Yuan and his sisters are orphans, and their mother will never know what became of her husband.

“Isn’t it a bit morbid?” Lan Xichen asks in a trembling voice.

“He killed your father,” Nie Mingjue reminds him.

And it’s true, of course, but it was an accident. Lan Xichen agreed that it was an accident. They’d had a plan. How were they supposed to guess that Qingheng-Jun, who hadn’t been seen in over a decade, would finally remember he was sect leader? Wen Xu hadn’t meant to kill him, and Lan Xichen had forgiven him, saying his father had likely just seen a chance to end his life without causing more dishonour to their family.

“It was Huaisang’s idea,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Well, he asked me to do that with Wen Ruohan’s head and to keep it there until he returns, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing the full set.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Let’s hope the war is over quickly then. The smell is going to get terrible if that stays here all summer.”

“I’ve put a spell on it to…”

“Mingjue-xiong, I’ve had a really long day,” Lan Xichen interrupts, struggling to maintain his usual polite warmth. “I know we have talked in a while, but I really would like to rest a moment. May we be given a room for the night? And something to eat as well. I am very sorry, but my plan was to leave early tomorrow morning so I can go back to the frontlines quickly once I have delivered this man to safety.”

Nie Mingjue seems surprised by that demand. He grumbles, and offers to have his healers look at Wen Xu, to have his men deliver him back to his sect. Lan Xichen politely refuses all of that, claiming some vague oath to do this in person, and Nie Mingjue gives up.

Wen Ruohan needs armies to be respected and obeyed, while Lan Xichen needs only to smile.

Terrified beyond words, Wen Xu leans heavily against Lan Xichen as they are walked to their room for the night. He doesn’t need to pretend weakness. Every time he looks around and sees a Nie crest, every time he hears Nie Mingjue’s voice, his legs buckle under him.

As soon as the door closes behind them, as soon as he’s alone with Lan Xichen and safely out of view, Wen Xu falls to his knees.

“I’m going to be sick,” he gasps.

Lan Xichen barely has time to put a basin in front of him before Wen Xu starts heaving, and before long his last meal makes a return.

It lasts too long. Even when there’s nothing left to puke, Wen Xu’s body is rocked by dry hiccups that make it near impossible to breathe. He can’t stop thinking of that head on a pike, a head that should have been his.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen whispers, holding his hair out of the way with one hand, rubbing comforting circles on his back with the others. “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would be there and… well. You know Mingjue.”

Wen Xu nods, a nearly hysterical giggle escaping him before he finds that though he’s empty of food, he can still vomit bile.

He knows Mingjue indeed, the man who has sworn he would avenge his father, who has looked at Wen Xu as if he wants to cut him in pieces since the day he became sect leader. Him and that sneaky brother of his have always scared Wen Xu, something for which his brother and father have mocked him sometimes.

Wen Ruohan probably isn’t laughing anymore. Or if he is, if he thinks he’s just rid of the weaker of his two sons at last, that only proud and devoted Wen Chao remains… then he’s a bigger fool than Wen Xu ever thought him to be, and he won’t be missed by his eldest son.

Between Wen Ruohan and Lan Xichen, the choice was always an easy one.

#lan xichen #wen xu #xuchen #chenxu #nie mingjue #mdzs #wtf is the ship name for this though???#jau writes #Anonymous #bad ship prompts

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Note

How would the Lost boys react to having a motherly type of s/o?

OH MY GOD I DIDN'T KNOW TUMBLR POSTED THIS UNFINISHED! UGH STUPID APP! Okay, redo!

Cuuute. The boys could certainly use a motherly touch around, even Max had said that when he wanted to turn Lucy. For this I am gonna be writing a female s/o, if you ever want otherwise always be sure to specify ahead of time otherwise DM me and I’ll be sure to correct it. I love the idea one behind the scenes with the boys, after the late night partying and wild blood orgies. I mean, let's be realistic here- those guys probably smell like cigarettes and ass. That cave is no doubt absolutely filthy as hell, and I don’t think they’ve cleaned up a day of their afterlife.

Lost Boys with a Motherly Fem!S/O

David

Now David isn’t exactly the type to be told what to do in almost any scenario. Well, almost. But even then he still prefers the majority of the control. It’s going to be a challenge to get anything done with him. Any sort of lectures or advice tend to fall on deaf ears simply because he and the boys have taken care of themselves for so long. Your best method of choice? STEALTH

I’m serious, you gotta be sneaky with this boy. He’ll wake up to you cleaning the hotel because you had assumed it was still daylight, or sweeping around when they go on hunts. Don’t fuck with the cobwebs, its an aesthetically pleasing decoration! Frankly, he’s just a brat who doesn’t like change. It’s gotten to the point however, where he can’t exactly stop you so he just decides to be a butt about it. Take-out trash litter the hotel lobby, he’ll even leave out half-full open containers and try to get some real maggots up in there. Not if you have anything to say about it! Sometimes he wonders how you can keep it as clean as you do.

You have no idea how absolutely rank a pack of teenage vampires can be. Especially with unwashed clothes. Seriously, David and Paul’s boots could make rats gag, the stank of unwashed vamp toes is gnarly. That can be a bit of a fight. Well someone has to get all those bloodstains out! What do you think they just vanished the next day? None of the boys want clean clothes, especially David. According to them you can't be badass vampires and have fresh pants. He’ll even hide his jacket from you on laundry day. How is he supposed to instill fear in the hearts of mortals when his jacket smells like FUCKING LAVENDER?

God help you if you try to make him bathe. The only way he’d concede is if you really went all out. Play to his ego, its the best way to get him to cooperate. After all, what man doesn’t want to be a king for a day. Especially one such as David. Once you finally, FINALLY get him in, then it's a fight to get him out. He’ll let off soft grunts when you massage shampoo through his scalp, leaning his head back with low, grumbling moans. Sometimes he’ll have you join him, even if you aren’t undressed. Yeah, he doesn’t care if you have your clothes on, time to get in. It's hotter when he sees your shirt tightly clinging to your bodice, although he'll huff that you had a bra underneath. If you try to peel off the soggy articles he won't let you. After all, if you got to strip him down, he gets to do the same to you. He'll take his time, and keep in mind the water isn't about to be clean for much longer.

Despite his protests, and he’d never admit it to the rest of the pack, but he really does love having someone caring for him. Being spoiled by his lover has some advantages, especially after a stressful day. Just laying back, having you rub his shoulders for a good minute, maybe suggesting he come over to your apartment and let you cook him a real meal for once. Sure you’ll be telling him how he needs to be more careful when he goes on hunts, but he can handle that much. You’re his precious doll, if it means a few lectures from you then he’ll put up with it.

Dwayne

Dwayne is kind of the silent brother bear of the group so it’s a relief when he has someone who wants to take care of him. It makes him chuckle when you fret over him. Honey, he can fly, he’s not going to fall off the roof. Even if he did, it wouldn’t kill him! He’s lost count how many times you subtly, or not so subtly, toss around the subject of a helmet when he rides around. You’ll even try using persuasive ideas such as having it custom painted, maybe adding some spikes- anything just wear a stupid helmet! Again, he reminds you the threat of cracking his head open wasn’t exactly that daunting

When you’re on a cleaning spree he tends to stay out of your way. Granted he tried to help once, but you immediately shooed him out. You got it, just go sit down and quit futzing with stuff. On laundry day he’s a bit stubborn, but as long as you don’t wash his leather jacket, he’ll be fine. Seriously, do not touch his jacket. He cannot stress enough how bad it is to try and use water and soap to clean a leather jacket. NO. No touchy! So he’ll just sit in his underwear (personally I think it’d be boxer briefs) on the couch clinging to his jacket while you go off to the laundromat a few blocks over. Eventually you bought him lounge pajama pants for when you do laundry trips. At first he didn’t want to but… well they have a badass puma on them. It’d be rude to not wear it if you went through all that trouble to get that for him.

Unlike the other three, Dwayne doesn’t need much bribery to get in the tub. DO you have ANY IDEA the last time he had a god damn shower? He misses it, he doesn’t exactly like smelling like parfum de cul (kudos to any of you who know what that means ;) ). Oh just watch him sink into the tub as you massage his luxurious mess of dark hair, you swear sometimes he audibly purrs when you do. Its one of the few times Dwayne will let himself be completely vulnerable. He won’t necessarily force you to join him, but he would certainly love it you have your cute butt nestled between his legs where he could lather you up. But, I mean, that’s entirely up to you to refuse your ripped, completely naked boyfriend eyeing you up.

When he gets injured or sick, which you never expected that he could, you immediately go into hyperdrive. While he’d rather be out riding with the guys, he can’t help but love being pampered by his princess who always treats him like a king. You’ll shove him into Star’s old bed and demand he stay put, wiping his forehead down with a cold cloth. One would assume that someone with no body heat left would get a fever. Actually, it makes it worse. He won’t DIE from any illness, but it sure does suck when he gets them. Usually a few feedings will heal him up within a day, so you’ve started smuggling bags from blood drives and keeping them in a little cooler for him. Granted you only get him A or B blood, but he still appreciates all the effort you go to just for him.

Paul

Paul loves it up until you make him do things he doesn’t want to. Typical guy. He DIED in a freaking bath tub, why the hell would you want to put him back in one?! It would take either a serious amount of strength or bribing to get him into one.

“It doesn't even have holy water Paul, just normal, plain, stupid water! You smell like a rat’s ass, will you please just get in?”

“I’d rather smell like ass!”

Yes, he may even try to bolt out of the room buck naked. Fuck you, try to catch him now! Did you hide his clothes?!

Your best bet is to play to his most vulnerable side: horny. Sure he refuses to get in the bath on his own, but add you naked covered in bubbles and it just became the best place to be. The blonde won’t even sulk when you’re sudsing up his hair because you’re too distracted to notice he’s about to cop a feel. He’ll just laugh like an idiot when you get mad, after all you put him in here in the first place. There will probably be tub sex, because dammit he deserves something for being such a good boy. Surprisingly he actually loves it when you use the hair dryer on him. It feels amazing, he doesn’t exactly get warm anymore so the sensation of heat rushing through freshly cleaned hair is just incredible

Paul is not a fan of laundry day, just like David. Again, you gotta chase him down. He’ll tease you the whole time though.

“Babe if you wanted to just rip my clothes off me all you had to do was ask.”

You only leave him in his underwear because he doesn’t have anything else to change into. You never realized how much of a pain in the ass white pants were until you met him. Why the hell did he even have white pants in the first place? They show every damn stain! Paul will probably come with you to the laundromat. Its three in the morning, who cares if someone sees him in his boxers? Big deal! He’d even offer to go nude. You managed to find a pair of pajama pants and a band t-shirt he could wear on laundry day because this ass refuses to buy any other clothes.

Paul thinks it’s absolutely adorable the way you dote on him. It’s a pain in the butt, but nothing is better than the tiny notes you leave for him when you go out. Or when you surprise the coven with a bunch of tupperware dishes full of real home cooked meals. Yeah being ragged on half the day is never fun but he knows that the only reason you do that is you care so much for him. You almost died when you thought he’d been killed, it was fair you got a bit over protective after. Besides, you were still his ride or die baby who did anything for him. Hell, last Valentine’s day you even went all around Santa Carla until you found someone who made him a mother fuckin Gene Simmons teddy bear, with the tongue out and everything. Paul loves you, nags and all

Marko

Probably one of the only boys to be a bit more cooperative when it comes to mothering him. After all, he’s the one being spoiled. It’s precious when you fret over him on a hunt out, warning him to avoid any hunters, fly safe, please don’t jump off any bridges. He’ll just hug you tight and assure you he’s gonna be fine. Yeah you’ll go one about how he should have a helmet when riding or raising concern when he tries something of questionable origin from the boardwalk vendors. But most of the time he just kind of tunes you out and smiles until you’re done.

He’s a sneaky boy, you oughta know that by now. You want him to take a bath? Only if you join him. You want to brush his hair out? Sure he’ll sit still… for ten kisses. Laundry day? Fine but he gets to come with. It’s hard not to laugh at him crouched up on the top of a dryer with his knees to his chest in only his underwear watching you throw in his pants and socks. He can’t help but grin when you throw him a side eye because of the stains all over his white shirt. Sheesh, him and Paul with the white clothes. Again, please please PLEASE don’t wash his jacket. You will ruin it. He doesn’t care if you bombard it with air freshener until his sorry ass smells like Hawaiian Breeze, but do not ever wash it

It’s adorable the lengths you’ll go to for him. Last year when he told you they were just gonna have some hot wings and beers for Thanksgiving you flipped. Next thing they know you had them come over to your apartment as soon as the sun went down to a full spread. Paul actually ended up hugging you too. It looked like something out of a catalog. Two fatass turkeys filled to the brim with homemade stuffing, easily four pounds of mashed potatoes, gravy, bread rolls, the whole fucking thing! And veggies. Nasty. Sure the corn on the cob was bitchin, but asparagus? NO. Yeah you made Marko put some on his plate and half the time he just kept pushing his peas around until Paul flung one at him. Then it was a silent veggie war. After that they pretty much came over for any holiday. He’d be all over you just gushing over how happy he is that you went through so much hard work for him, for them. Even Max did fuckall besides what he had to, the guy wanted to toot his own horn about dad of the year but sucked ass at it.

They start coming over so often that you bought black out curtains for every window in your house. Even during the day they could sleep in your guest room without fear of the sun. Well, the guys could. You had him tucked into your own room, still sleeping with his feet to the headboard for that upside down sense and his arms tightly pressed to his chest. He absolutely loves how much you care for him, especially after so many decades of being a filthy biker boy who feasted on the living. Even his vampirism didn’t send you away. You’d even keep a mini fridge in your room stocked with blood bags in case he craved a midday snack. Sometimes he’d awaken to you sleeping beside him and just savor those quiet moments with his baby. Maybe for Christmas this year he’d offer you the best gift he could think of. Who needs a wedding ring when you can offer an eternity with your angel instead?

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plasticflowering · 3 years

Text

A Unifying Theory of Loreography (Lore + Choreography)

(2/3/21) HELLO to all new folks finding this post! It is also now a YouTube Video, and I’m pretty happy with it so if you’d rather get your lore analysis visually please check it out!

Preface: I don’t think it’s just coincidence that we got full choreography for an intro called “Devil is in the detail”, and I’ve made it my mission since 반박불가 dropped to pull apart the threads that might link everything, lore-wise. This morning I believe I had an epiphany about it, so here are my thoughts.

If this flops I will feel my soul exiting my body so please validate me.

Notes: In forming this theory I mostly considered the events of the storyline MVs and teasers as well as the choreography, but a very important part of my epiphanies came when considering the post-MV stingers for TBONTB and 반박불가. It’s using these stingers that I feel like I can better understand the thesis statements in the choreo.

Part One: Now then, where were we?

At the end of TBONTB, the monarchs are approaching monumental, pitch-black gates made of skulls and desperate, reaching hands.

I can’t not interpret this as the gates of Tartarus, considering the Greek mythology in the canon lore already. Tartarus, however, is at the lowest depths of the underworld, and so my interpretation is that, while they reclaimed their souls from the necklace, they awoke physically in a realm beyond the underworld, and now have to make their way out of this psychological nightmare to breathe free the air, as it were. Through Tartarus, through Hell, this is not because I played 80 hours of Hades in the last three months but it might have a little to do with that. Stay with me. (Though if anyone is wondering, YES Leedo would be Zagreus, but that’s not why we’re here today)

Part Two: Devil is in the Detail

What an opening formation. The imagery is not 100% clear to me, but I feel as if this entire opening formation sequence is dual-wielding imagery of a crown (much like the killing part of TBONTB), but also the gates of Tartarus.

Look at this transition once Hwanwoong ascends to the top of the formation, and how the hands all come out, similar to the gates above. I’ll be damned if this is supposed to invoke anything else.

Rewinding a bit, this framing of Seoho being resuscitated and borne by their hands is stunning. Seoho’s journey in the TBONTB choreography merits its own post entirely, because there are a lot of moments that seem to be telling a story for him particularly, and this is just a continuation of that.

Ravn and Leedo being separated for the rap line part seems like an obvious utilitarian choice, and I agree that it is. However, before we prepare to dismiss all “pairings” as serving the progression of the song itself, I have another theory that ties together a lot of the inciting moments of choreo. I promise you this is going to sound like A Reach, but that’s just how my mind works and if you enjoy it I’m glad.

Leedo, Hwanwoong, and Xion are the monarchs who have absolved themselves by the events of 반박불가, and fully reclaimed their souls as well as their conscience. Seoho and Ravn, not so much. They have a lot of work to do to free their conscience - especially Seoho. Oh, lord, especially Seoho. Keonhee is an extremely interesting case, as he seems to have a foot firmly in both sides, More on that later.

For further paranoid conspiracy theorist proof of this, please note that their outfits in the choreography videos symbolically reflect this:

Light, Light, Light/Dark, Dark, Dark/Lightish, Light

If you need more convincing, may I point out that Leedo, Hwanwoong, and Xion are the only members who got those wonderful “all clothed in white” shots in the back half of the 반박불가 MV? I tried to make a gif, and I did make a gif, but Tumblr doesn’t want to post it in this text post.

(you rn)

The most interesting moments of loreography in DiitD are the following:

1. These lotus hands. Again, the imagery, I die!! Keonhee is coming into his own, his character is blooming, expanding his consciousness, going sicko mode with the realization that he has power in the underworld.

2. Directly following this, Seoho offers a hand to Keonhee and literally drags him down (again, the light/dark dichotomy of Keonhee), while the two good good boys Hwanwoong and Xion are back there just trying to maintain balance so they can get through this Hell/Tartarus thing.

3. Good ol’ ONEUS Summoning Circle, but wait this time I think it’s actually meaningful beyond the imagery. Seoho is at the center because he has the vocal line, yeah obviously, but he stays there much longer than is objectively necessary without a formation change. This isn’t common in ONEUS choreography. As much as they love their Summoning Circles, they tend to move on to other formations quickly. This one has meat on its bones, and I think what’s happening here, loreography wise, are the other monarchs banding together in an attempt to save Seoho from the darkness. But Seoho is powerfully dark, y’all, even going so far as to overpower them in the moment above.

4. This is flame imagery. Seoho has been engulfed in flames despite everyone’s best efforts.

5. At the last minute, he gets yeeted via backflip back into Hell/Tartarus

6. Keonhee takes the initiative in going back for him...

7. We’re back in Hell, that’s just great. Thanks, Seoho. You’re lucky we love you and your extremely disturbed conscience.

With this in mind, you can probably get way ahead of me, here.

Part Three: 반박불가

Perhaps not remarkably, the title track doesn’t have nearly as many loreography beats as DiitD. However, we know it’s part of the lore, and this was made abundantly clear simply with that opening move...

This is where we left off TBONTB, but not exactly. There is a slightly different formation of dancers here, which suggests it’s not picking up exactly where TBONTB left off, but rather that this is a cue to let casual fans know, explicitly: yes, this is a continuation of the TBONTB story.

Some moments don’t have choreography allusions, but they are loud in the MV, such as:

- “Youngjo, would you stop playing with flowers, our lead vocalist is going to Hell.” Ravn, who barely scraped out of Hell last time, ostensibly with Leedo’s help according to the rap line break in the choreography, has a rough time of it in the 반박불가 MV, but Hwanwoong isn’t going to let him fall back into toxic behaviors and lose himself to that psychological prison again. Hwanwoong drags Ravn back out of Hell, but not before Ravn successfully makes contact with Seoho. Obviously, Ravn would be the one to make contact, because Ravn’s still a little on edge about his own conscience and can easily backslide if he wants to. Who does he find down there? Seoho.

- Keonhee, who led the charge to return to Hell, is staying on task but seems to be the chief of operations to Hwanwoong’s chief of intelligence here, exercising his newfound sicko mode. Those two are certainly working hardest at keeping the servants of darkness in check down in the depths so they can make a quick break for it.

- Leedo’s actually having a grand time fighting his own demons - or rather, smirking at them and realizing that nah, he’s good. He can use his guilt and regret to motivate him towrd good things now.

- Xion is literally just above all of this and can move between Hell and Earth with ease, so he’s just waiting to see if he has to pull any Fallen God-Prince cards here to save his friends.

Now, for the key loregraphy moments. It’s obvious that 1Million was choreographing for a new direction in the ONEUS style, here, so it’s nearly bereft of the usual lyricism and formations, but they’re definitely there. Unsurprisingly they almost all deal with Seoho.

1. God, this moment whips. They’re all working to free Seoho and lock the gates behind them, with Keonhee giving Seoho one final push. That’s not a normal choreography move. That is storytelling and it sticks out like a beautiful sore thumb with an entire sonnet written on it.

2. With Seoho on lock, now Ravn may break out. He does so rather easily, but it’s not without Hwanwoong’s help. Please notice that Keonhee and Seoho are the two BEHIND him, and what that symbolizes.

3. This fucking bridge. It’s amazing with the loreography. First of all we have Keonhee, and the Summoning Circle is using the same imagery/texture that was formerly used to represent engulfing fire. Uh-oh.

4. Keonhee reaches out...

... but gets dragged under.

5. (excited football commentator voice) but who’s that on the outside making it to the surface, literally with the support of the other monarchs? IT’S SEOHO (cheers)!!

And Seoho finishes things out in the center, as well he should because he got us into this mess.

Part Four: What just happened to Keonhee

I’m so angry at this post-MV stinger. It took me forever to wrap my brain around what is being suggested here, because I thought “hey wait, the red lighting represents darkness/hell, doesn’t it?? DOESN’T IT?? RBW???? I thought we just GOT OUT OF HELL????

So I leave the final interpretation in everyone's individual hands, but the thought that occurred to me today was:

What if this entire scenario was a test of resolve and camaraderie, an illusion, a trick by the Devil (or that donger Helios, whatever). What if Keonhee was the only one who saw through this, and the only one who genuinely made it to Earth at the moment he appeared to have been dragged back to Hell? Because, as we know, Keonhee is a tactical genius, a monarch among the monarchs, and all his visual imagery in the MV suggested a sort of power cabal.

What if he realized that they weren’t all strong enough to face the challenge of breaking this cycle, so he schemed to leave them behind, but leave them safe in the illusion, while he struck out with the power of God and anime on his side.

I... I think Keonhee is about to go kill and dethrone a God, y’all.

#jfc this got long #fun fact the original draft of this had the title a SHORT analysis of etc.#hahahaha nope #v.analysis #v.devil analysis #oneus #no diggity #oneus lore #반박불가 #next up if I'm feeling especially energetic:#an analysis of lion heart and rewind and why they're also lore songs

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purefrostbyte · 3 years

Text

Protecting You

Dabi and Hawks

Rating: Angst

Might do a part two

Protecting You

Dabi let a puff of smoke escape his lips as he stomped out his cigarette. He had been told to scout for recruits, his normal chore that he still had even though Shigaraki berated him about how many bodies he left by the end of the night. He had scoped out his normal places, dark alleyways and abandoned buildings known for being a hangout spot for delinquents and criminals. That was until you stepped in his way. You hadn’t noticed his presence, and if you had you sure as hell didn’t act like it. Dabi felt his mouth dry, why of all nights did you have to out tonight. Your h/c locks bounced as you walked in front of him, something seemed to plague your mind.

Your distraction was a fatal mistake, because you walked right into a less than pleasant looking group of older men. Who the minute they laid eyes on you were drooling at the mouth. “Hey pretty thing,” one whistled as you attempted to walk away. Dabi watched silently as one of them grabbed you and pulled you into the middle of their circle, causing him to ball his fists to stop the fire that threatened to blast its way through the alleyway. Dabi hadn’t heard what you said, but the men didn’t seem to appreciate it and now they were handling you with a lot more force.

Dabi was about to step in, roast the fuckers and then leave when vermillion feathers shot out from the sky. Dabi concealed himself in the shadows as Hawks scared the men away and landed next to you. “What’s a sweet little thing like you doing out tonight?” his voice held a smugness that Dabi so desperately wanted to punch out of him. “Call me sweet and I’ll bite you fucking tongue off Birdy,” you snapped and Dabi couldn’t stop the small fond smile that graced his face, still got your usual spunk and charm.

Hawks chuckled, “What’s got you so bitter tonight Y/n?” Dabi remember the fact you two were friends, and if it weren’t for you they probably wouldn’t have met back then. “I’m just really not in the mood for crap tonight Kei,” you sighed and looked at the stars, “What made you come find me anyway. You don’t normal patrol this side, and don’t give me the passing through the neighborhood crap.” Hawks lifted his hands in defense, “Alright you got me,” he dropped his hands, face twisting into a serious expression. “I need you to be careful, don’t go through dark alleys at night and don’t stay out to late.” You raised an eyebrow, “And why, oh why? Would I listen to you Chicken stick?”

Hawks let out a frustrated sigh, “Why are you so damn stubborn Y/n? Why can’t you just listen for once? If Touya had asked-“ “Touya has nothing to do with this!” You snap and Hawks takes a step back at your aggressive tone. “Y/n,” Hawks sighed, but you didn’t let him finish his sentence. “If I listen so much to Touya why don’t you bring him here and make him demand me huh?” Dabi and Hawks’ head both shot up at this accusation. Hawks throat was dry and you could hear the panic over take him. “What?”

You choke down a bitter laugh, “Is Rumi the only real fucking friend I have?” you sneered at Hawks, “She told me everything. Everything Keigo. He’s alive, he’s fucking alive and you and fucking Endeavor never said a thing to me!” Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and Hawks knew he fucked up. “Y/n,” he started, “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would go after him. He’s not the same as before. Y/n he’s dangerous now.” Hawks attempted to reason with you, but you were too far gone in your anger to care for logic. “Dangerous? DANGEROUS?! Hate to fucking break it to you Keigo but we are ALL fucking dangerous.”

Hawks sighed, “Y/n, please I’m begging you, don’t go after him. I-We- Y/n none of us want to lose you.” You scoff at him, “You say that like he’ll kill me.” Hawks growled in anger, you stubbornness becoming too much for him to handle right now. “He fucking could Y/n!” You stiffened, you didn’t want to believe it, and it hurt to know deep down that Keigo was telling the truth. “Y/n he isn’t Touya anymore ok! And I’m not about to watch you wreck yourself believing in him, when all he will do is hurt you!” At this point Hawks was full on yelling at you, something that he never liked doing due to your childhood, but right now he needed you to hear reason even if it meant he would end up breaking you a little bit.

You stare at the ground intensely, not wanting to look at Hawks. Tears made puddles on the floor and it hurt Keigo to see you like this. “Y/n-“ “I think its best if you go.” He was taken back by your request, he didn’t know what to do or say, “Y/n listen I’m sorry for yelling-“ You turned away from him and started walking off and it broke Keigo to watch. “Y/n at least let me walk you home!”

You didn’t listen, walking with your head down and disappearing around a corner. Hawks sighed before leaving, knowing that you didn’t want to see him in the state you were in. Dabi slipped out of his dark corner as Hawks flew away and then set off following you. Now he knows why you had been so distracted earlier.

He watched you from afar, keeping distance as to not alert you but close enough that he could see your body shake with each sob you let pass your lips. It broke his heart to watch you, knowing he couldn’t comfort you because it would just end in a mess. Hawks was right, he was dangerous now and he wasn’t prepared to bring that danger to you. He’d rather die.

He watched silently as you slumped into your apartment building, waiting patiently to see which apartment you owned. When he saw lights flicker to life and you appear by the window to stare at the sky, he knew you were safe and bonus he also now knew where you lived. He was about to turn away, give up recruiting for the night and turn in. Life had different plans it seemed.

He was thrown into the side wall of the alleyway under your window, a vermillion feather to his throat. Golden eyes, filled to brim with anger and something that could only be described as possessiveness, stared back at Dabi. “Leave. Her. Alone.” Hawks growled, feather sharped and pressed hard to Dabi’s throat. Dabi growls, he never liked how possessive Hawks got over you and the two had always been at each other’s throats about it. “Give me a good reason to Bird Brains,” Dabi challenged and Hawks only grew angrier, “Don’t you see how much you have destroyed her already? Was leaving and faking you death not enough pain for her that you’re just gonna waltz back into her life as if you’ve done nothing wrong?”

Every fiber in Dabi’s body was on fire with anger and he threw a strong right hook against Hawk’s jaw. “You little shit,” Dabi seethed as the two started wrestling and throwing punches and kicks at each other. “You don’t think I don’t know that? That it doesn’t eat me alive every fucking day? I made my choice and I have to live with the consequences, yeah I get it. I know I fucked her up and it kills me every fucking day knowing it!”

The two were battered and bruised, still fighting and yelling at each other, they didn’t notice you come down from the fire escape by your window. You watched their stupid fight, listened to the anger and sorrow both had and you were done listening to it. “Enough!” You said firmly, catching their attention and causing the both to pale. “You two are gonna get yourselves caught like this. Are you two still that fucking dumb that you share one whole brain cell between you?” The two slouched and looked at the ground, feeling like they were being scolded like a child would. You let out a tired sigh before turning back to the fire escape ladder and beginning you ascend. The two were still sat on the ground muttering before hearing you call, “Get your asses inside now, before I drag you by the ears.” The two silently followed your command and sis as they were told, climbing up into your apartment.

First time I’m writing for Tumblr in awhile, kinda feels nice. If you have any requests I’m more than happy to hear them. Been bored and wanting to write but having no inspiration kinda stops that. Leave a request in the comments or dm me, really don’t mind.

xoxo

#Dabi #hawks #angst #bnha #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader x hawks

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talpup · 3 years

Text

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Sorry about the late update. It was a super busy weekend, and my three big chronic illness bad's are still making me pay the price. Anyway, here you all go. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 96

It was near midnight. All the Captain's were tired, irritable, and on edge. They were meeting because Yami and Teris had never checked-in this evening when Jax had explicitly ordered his Vice Captain's to do so before lights out.

The Black Bulls Captain focused his glare on his fist which rested on the table as questions were asked, hypothesis given, and ideas about what to do were put forth. He blamed himself for Yami and Teris’ disappearance, certain that the Agents of Chaos had taken them.

Having reported to Greywright before this meeting was called, Jax had encouraged the Commander to question the supposed traitor Flic about Yami and Teris’ disappearance. But, Greywright had told him it would do no good. During his interrogation of Flic yesterday afternoon, Greywright had learned that the man knew nothing of the details concerning Alowishus’ plans. Jax would've liked some time alone with Flic anyway. Not to question the man; but simply to beat one of the Agents of Chaos, even if that person was no longer aligned with them.

“I question keeping up the search. Especially this late at night. We went out this morning looking for two Vice Captains and instead of finding them, we lost two more.” Jamie said.

“You sound scared.” Win taunted.

“I’m concerned for the safety of my squad. For all our squads.” Jamie said.

“We’re Magic Knights. We don’t abandon anyone, least of all our own.” Kess said, fiercely.

“I’m not saying we give up.” Jamie told, thinking Pyter would’ve understood if he were still Captain of the Silver Eagles.

“You’ve always been a selfish ass. I doubt you’d want to continue even if it was your own Vice Captain missing.” Mereoleona fumed.

“We don’t even know who took them or why. Blindly searching has done nothing but thinned our resources and wear our Magic Knights to exhaustion, and it’s only been a day.” Danise said.

Whilf nodded in agreement. “There has to a better way to go about this.”

“Better then searching for four Magic Knights Vice Captain’s?” Mereoleona stormed in challenge of the Purple Orcas Captain.

“No one’s saying that. But fumbling around hoping to stumble upon something isn’t working.” Breigha said.

Mereoleona could hardly argue with her friend. During her own futile search this afternoon she had wanted to torch the four kingdoms until whoever took her brother returned him, begging for mercy. She’d fry the fools and then pummel Fuegoleon for letting himself be taken.

“Do we even have an idea if they were taken because they’re all Magic Knights, or three of them royal?” Win asked.

“I’m guessing none of the families have received any word or demands?” Danise tendered. The Coral Peacocks Captain looked from Mereoleona to Julius. She glanced at Kess figuring as Nozel’s Captain she would've been in contact with Nathyn Silva or at least a representative from the royal house.

Julius rapped his knuckles on the tabletop with a silent curse. Just like last year, and two months ago during the Spade Kingdom mess, he had forgotten to send message to Fyntch about Teris being taken. When he had finally gotten around to writing Fyntch last year he hadn’t mentioned that Teris had been taken; simply saying he was sure Fyntch had seen the beam that lit up the sky the morning of the Summer Solstice and assuring him that he and Teris were okay. As for the happening with the Spade Kingdoms Magic Scientist Rayla, he hadn’t bothered sending Fyntch message and told Teris as much so she wouldn’t mention it to their brother.

Having met with Lord Leonidas himself and spoken with House Silva’s representative, Jorah said. “Neither the Silva’s or Vermillion’s have reported receiving demands or word of admission and intent.”

Jamie scoffed, thinking that the Silva’s and Vermillion’s were too proud to admit to it if they had. The two royal houses likely had their own people looking into things and would handle the matter privately if they came across anything.

Whilf looked at the Wizard Kings Advisor. “Has Magic Investigations unearthed anything of use?”

Ellara shook her head sadly at the Purple Orcas Captain. “My people have been out all day checking in with their sources and questioning people searching for some kind of lead. We haven’t given up. But as yet, they have discovered nothing that would tell us who took the Vice Captain's or why.” She looked at Julius, Mereoleona, Jax, and Kess. “I’m sorry.”

Julius and Jax stared at the Wizard Kings Advisor, both thinking Ellara was far from sorry but would be.

96.2

Yami noticed how Calen stuck close by them as he and Teris were made to walk through the portal. Given that Teris had once broken through Calen’s negating magic the first time she had light traveled, it was justifiable that they were concerned.

“Leon! Nozel!” Teris rushed forward only to be grabbed by a cloaked figure.

Yami punched the Agent of Chaos not seeing or caring if the person was a man or woman. He pulled Teris out of their grasp, holding her to him.

“Peace, Livia.” Calen told the woman as Alowishus stepped through the gateway.

Livia stood down and tenderly touched her face.

Hands bound above his head, hanging from a tree branch, Fuegoleon’s eyes blinked slowly open.

Tied and swaying beside the Crimson Lion, Nozel croaked, barely able to lift his head. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” Yami said, looking them over.

Nozel took in a slow, shallow, shuddering breath; grimacing at the pain the small movement brought.

Teris tried once more to step to them, but Yami held her firm least someone attempt to stop her again.

Teris trembled in Yami’s arms, a fearful rage building. Nozel and Fuegoleon were alive but they were a battered, bloody mess. And that was only the injuries she could see. They had been in the Agents of Chaos’ custody for little more than twenty-four hours. Who knew what those monsters had done to them.

One eye swollen shut. The other, vision tinted red by blood. Nozel told Yami. “First chance you get, you get her out of here.”

Teris shook her head, angry worried tears blurring her sight. Though she had no idea how they were going to manage it, she promised Nozel and Fuegoleon. “No matter what it takes. We’re going to get you out of this.”

“I’m glad you said that; because you hold the way to freedom for your Intended and your cousin. The path to seeing them live through this is a simple one.” Alowishus said, stepping toward her and Yami.

Teris turned to face him. “Let them go and I’ll do it.”

“Teris... No--” Fuegoleon’s lips moved, sound barely coming out. His voice faltered, weakly coughing up blood.

Yami uttered a stream of curses, his grip on Teris tightening. He scowled at Alowishus and the surrounding Agents of Chaos in the low, flickering firelight of Piper’s magic. He would kill every single one of them even if it took his entire life to hunt down every member of Alowishus’ followers.

“That’s not how this goes.” Alowishus told Teris. “Your friends go free only after you and Yami do as I say. Play difficult and we will continue harming them until you do or they die; whichever comes first. But I warn you. They proved difficult themselves, refusing to answer the simplest questions. It’s left them in bad shape. I doubt they’d be able to survive much more.”

Fuegoleon’s eyes slowly lifted, too weak to rise his heavy head. He wanted to tell Teris not to listen. He would rather die than have his cousin agree to whatever these people wanted. But no matter hard he tried, his brain couldn’t make his chapped bleeding lips form the words.

Yami didn’t need a better look at Fuegoleon and Nozel to know Alowishus was telling the truth. It was clear they had been tortured and were in really rough shape. Nozel’s head lolled. Though it was difficult to tell if the man was unconscious or not.

“What do you want?” Yami asked.

“To get to the treasure vault of a labyrinth.” Alowishus said.

“What? You and your people so lacking that you need us for such a simple task.” Yami mocked.

“This isn’t any labyrinth, Yami. The contents of the vault are meant for you and Teris. Destined for the two of you to find and receive.” Alowishus told.

“Labyrinth 297,353.” Teris breathed.

Alowishus smiled. “I see you’ve heard of it.”

Yami looked at Teris in question.

Teris stared back, both surprised and not that Yami didn’t remember. “He wants us to collect the Future of Chaos.”

“Not just the two of you.” Alowishus said, keen ears hearing Teris’ whisper. “I will be going down with you to also receive the page.”

Yami turned to the man. “The History of Chaos has been nothing but a curse. Like hell I’m going to the labyrinth that has the Future of Chaos. I’d rather see those two die.”

“As you wish.” Alowishus’ eyes slid to the Mage that stood beside Nozel and gave a slight nod.

Nozel’s body tensed and began to squirm. Hanging from his arms, he began to swing. His muscles spasmed at the pain. Teeth pressed together trying to hold back the cry that bubbled in his throat.

Yami couldn’t see any outward wounds being made. But when blood began to come from Nozel’s ears, nose, eyes, and mouth, he barked. “Stop!”

Alowishus tilted his head at Yami, not yet giving the signal for the Mage to cease. “Agree.”

Yami glared.

Nozel began to scream.

Voice caught in fear and horror, Teris’ trembled, knuckles white as she clutched onto Yami’s upper arms.

“We’ll do it. We’ll go.” Yami broke.

Alowishus smiled. “Excellent.”

The signal was given and the Mage stopped.

Alowishus held a beckoning hand out to Teris. “Come here.”

Yami’s arm tightened around Teris’ waist. But he hadn’t needed to worry, she didn’t even try to move.

“It appears you require another lesson in how this goes.” Alowishus turned to the Mage and told. “Don’t be so gentle this time.”

Whatever the man was doing, he did it to both Nozel and Fuegoleon. Both their bodies seized. The Crimson Lion and Silver Eagle crying out. Teris tired to take a step toward Alowishus but Yami held her in place. She squirmed in his arms, pushing at his chest; but Yami refused to release her.

Teris looked up Yami at single tear rolling from its bank and down her cheek. “Please.”

Yami shook his head even as his hold slowly released. Teris stepped away him. He made to follow but was barred by someones arm. They didn’t dare touch him, but it was enough to stay his steps.

Teris was more than halfway to him when Alowishus gave his man a nod.

Teris’ steps ceased. Her head started to turn to look over her shoulder at Fuegoleon and Nozel when suddenly Alowishus was right in front of her. His hand clasped her jaw, fingers digging into her cheeks as he turned her to face him.

The next thing Teris knew, Alowishus was kissing her. No. It wasn’t really a kiss. Though that didn’t make it any less unnerving or make her stop trying to push away. It was more like the way a mother bird feeds her young. Only in this case, Alowishus was forcing a thick, vaporous substance down her throat.

Yami broke the arm barring his way and rushed forward. He was tackled and held down by three men. A cloak of mana flickered around Yami like a sputtering candle flame, present one moment and gone the next.

Calen ground his teeth. His magic fighting to negate Yami’s.

Mana skin blinking in and out of existence, Yami threw one of the men holding him into another that was coming to assist. He got to his feet and tossed a second against a tree trunk ten meters away,

“Stand back.” Slade told the third that was still trying to hold Yami back from their Master. The Rope Mage created a glowing rope. It wrapped around Yami, binding him tight.

Yami fell to the ground. He pulled and struggled against the magical binds, yelling curses and threats.

Alowishus released Teris and staggered back. Misandre was there to help steady her Master.

Teris fell to her knees. Sputtering, she coughed up dense black smoke. Her eyes watered, at the burning cold that seeped through her body into her very soul.

“What the hell did you do to her! I’ll kill you!” Yami roared, the magical ropes breaking nearly as fast as Slade could create them.

“I merely replenished her mana stores. You should thank me. In her depleted state she wouldn’t have survived receiving the Future of Chaos, let alone whatever dangers we might cross down there.” Alowishus looked down at Teris who was on all fours choking up thick black puffs. “Your system is adjusting to foreign mana. It’s not a perfect exchange, but you’ll be fine.”

Yami snarled. His fighting didn’t let up, even as Teris’ coughing eased.

“Let him go to her.” Alowishus ordered.

As soon as Slade’s magic released, Yami was on his feet. He rushed to Teris, sliding to his knees to stop beside her. His arm wrapped around her jerking shoulders as she continued to sputter.

“You alright?” Yami asked, pushing her hair back from her face.

Teris nodded, still wheezing. She wiped the stale taste of Alowishus off her mouth and spit, wisps of black mana escaping her mouth and nose like smoke. She pushed up to her knees, a shaking hand gripping Yami’s arm for balance. “Leon? Nozel?”

Yami glanced over at the still bound men. Neither Nozel or Fuegoleon moved. Their breathing so shallow Yami couldn’t see the rise and fall of their chests. Through his sense of their Ki, he was able to pick up on their faint breaths and weakened heartbeats.

“Still breathing.” It was the only thing Yami could say.

Alowishus turned away. “Let’s go. The new moon rises. We must be in the vault by its peak.”

“What’s a moonless night have to do with it?” Teris rasped, Yami helping her to her feet.

Alowishus turned back her. Rather than answer, he told. “Yami’s power might be on the rise. But he has still faced a small down trend as the Summer Solstice has neared. Your power, though lessening, will continue to grow slightly until the morning of the solstice.”

Yami looked at Teris seeing her frown at the unanswered question. He could see her mind working, trying to figure out the answer on her own.

“Before we head out. Turn around and look at your beloved friends.” Alowishus ordered.

Despite not wanting to do anything the man told her to, Teris couldn’t resist. She turned.

Yami stood in her way, wide shoulders and towering frame blocking her view. He gave her a slight shake of his head.

Teris stared up at him.

“Move and let her see them, Yami. You both should know the stakes any further disobedience will have.” Alowishus told.

“She doesn’t need to see them.” Yami said, eyes lifting to the man that called himself Death.

Alowishus stared back. For a moment it looked as if he would insist. With a sigh, he allowed. “Very well. You’ve seen the state of them, Yami. You know what testing me would mean. I doubt you want to be the cause of their deaths.”

Teris balked at that. She tried to step to the side, but Yami moved with her.

“So protective.” Alowishus smirked. Looking at Teris, he told. “It’s probably for the best. A sight like that will stay with you long after they’ve recovered, or died.”

“Leave her alone.” Yami growled.

Alowishus looked down at Teris. “Just so long as you’re aware. Timeis of the essence for the both of us. Your cousin won’t last more than two hours at most. Your Intended not lasting much longer after that. And that’s only if you behave and don’t kill them yourselves by having me set Nexis back to work on them.”

Yami glared at Alowishus. “We won’t try anything. Let’s just get on with it.”

“For the Prince’s sake I hope that’s true. I will be carrying a charm. If I activate it, Nexis continues his work until I deactivate it. If I’m injured, it activates immediately. If I am rendered unconscious, it activates immediately. As unlikely as such a happening is, if I am killed...” Alowishus smiled at the change in Yami’s eyes at the prospect.

“Let me guess. The charm activates.” Yami said.

“No. The charm crumbles to dust. As does the connecting ones left in the hands of my followers. If that happens, not only will the Silva and Vermillion heirs be instantly killed. But the Agents watching Captain's Julius and Jax, as well a the rest of your friends from afar, will spring into action killing them before they even realize there’s a threat.” Alowishus said.

“But you’ll be dead.” Yami said, as if the rest didn’t matter.

Alowishus gave a tight smile. “Only for a time. You cannot kill Death”

“Pretty sure if I removed your head you’ll die.” Yami said.

“I’ve heard that before. Sadly, only one such commenter was still around to see how wrong they were.” Alowishus sighed tiredly and raised a guiding arm. “Shall we?”

Taking Teris’ hand, Yami stepped after Alowishus. They walked for some time through the dark forest with only the dim glow of the accompanying Agents of Chaos’ grimoires to light the way.

While the mana Alowishus gave Teris might've bolstered her magics reserves. It didn’t do much to help against physical exhaustion. Seeing her start to lag, Yami looked ahead to Alowishus. “Didn’t you say time was of the essence? Why are we tripping through a moonless forest?”

“Misandre will see us inside the labyrinth, but first we must find it.” Alowishus said. Pausing his steps to stare at something in his hand.

“What do you got there?” Yami asked.

“Directions. Of a sort.” Alowishus looked over his shoulder at Yami. “Come have a look if you’d like.”

Yami slowly released Teris’ hand. He glared at the surrounding Agents of Chaos in warning. Grateful for the breather, Teris didn’t move to follow him.

Alowishus watched Yami as he stepped beside him and looked at what he held in his open palm.

Yami scowled. “Are those bones?”

“Finger bones to be precise. They’re from the maker of the labyrinth and are pointing us to the labyrinths entrance.” Alowishus smirked at Yami. “You see? I do my part to make things as easy and painless as I can for the two you. When we reach the area, Misandre will portal the three of us in. Once down there, we’ll make our way to the vault and the three of us will enter and receive the Future of Chaos.”

Yami raised a brow. “The three of us?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I might not have the brains Teris does. But I remember the paper sniffers at Investigations saying Yurist’s prophecy said the ones who found the History of Chaos would find its future. Seeing as you weren’t there when we got the first page of Chaos. I don’t see how you expect to get your hands on the second.”

Alowishus’ eyes darkened. “I’ve forgotten more about Yurist and his prophecy’s than the sum knowledge of the four kingdoms libraries and scholars combined. When it comes to such things, you must be careful, Yami. Yes, the prophecy says the two that find the History of Chaos will also find the Future of Chaos. But the key word there is find. Not receive.”

Yami looked at the man thinking that if the keyword was ‘find’ then Alowishus was still somehow wrong and in for a disappointment; because he and Teris weren’t finding anything, they were being led. Giving one last look at the bones that moved like a compass, Yami stepped back to Teris.

They walked a bit more until Alowishus stopped once again.

“Misandre. Here. Three hundred and seven meters down.” Alowishus glanced at Yami and Teris seeing they too had picked up on the numbers. He and his people still hadn’t learned the full meaning of Yami being a third seventh son; and as much as he wanted to question Yami further on it, now wasn’t the time.

Calen stepped to his Master, his concern evident. He remembered last years long lingering injury Alowishus had suffered from his battle with Julius Nova, and Yami and Teris’ combined attack.

“They know the stakes, and won’t try anything.” Alowishus soothed Calen. He looked at Yami and Teris. “Will you.”

Yami’s left hand rested on his katana’s hilt. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust us. Just like we’re having to trust you about not killing the royals, and letting us all go.”

Calen glared at Yami. “If you harm the Master. I’ll do more than kill your friends. I’ll find this Land of the Rising Sun and end every single member of the Sukehiro line.”

“Good luck with that.” Yami said, sure there had to be a family that went by Sukehiro in his homeland; unfortunately for Calen’s plans, it wasn’t Yami’s family.

Misandre opened up a portal. Alowishus gave the Spatial Mage a nod as he passed through. That’s when Yami saw the woman’s hands. Hands he’d recognize anywhere given the amount of times they had hit him and tried to crush his neck.

Yami pulled his katana from its sheath. “Those don’t belong to you!”

“Yami, don’t!” Teris grabbed his arm, not seeing how his eyes had flicked black for a fraction of a second.

Snarling at the woman wearing Bronn’s hands, Yami sheathed his katana. “I’ll soon see those off you and where they belong.”

96.2.2

“Teris. Give us some light.” Alowishus said from somewhere in the dark space.

Teris’ hand twitched tempted to light up the direction Spade’s voice sounded from and fry him. Her grip on Yami’s arm tightened, grateful they had stepped through the portal together.

Slowly, she lit up the area. The three blinked, their eyes adjusting.

Looking about the space, Alowishus told. “To use your terminology, the labyrinth isn’t active. With it not open and visible to the surface we will have to deal with the dark. But it also means that most of the beasts and traps will be in hibernation. Still, be on guard. The creatures that reside in places like this are more powerful during the new moon.”

“Which leads me to ask again. Why a moonless night?” Teris questioned.

Alowishus tilted his head. “The vault is this way.”

Senses alert to danger even if he didn’t appear to be, Yami commented almost conversationally. “I suppose we should be thankful that Bronn was such a good Spatial Mage. Without his hands, that woman probably would’ve deposited us between bedrock.”

“Noticed that did you?” Alowishus smiled, leading the way.

“Gotta admit, I half expected her to try and smack me upside the head.” Yami said.

“Parts taken carry a residual portion of a persons magic, not a remnant of the persons character.” Alowishus said.

“Why take Bronn’s hands at all? Were Erskin’s a little too chewed up by Saber Wolves? Or were the hands of your dead follower too painful to see?” Teris asked.

“When you have lived as long as I; such feelings of friendship, love, even hate all but fade away. I’m not so old that I’m incapable of affecting such emotions for the sake of others. But, just between the three of us. I feel little to nothing. Well, until the two of you showed up.” Alowishus stopped and turned to to face them. “You two have done much more than give me the means to reach my aims. You have made me feel again. First excitement. Then awe. I have long since forgotten what hope felt like. But I believe I may have begun to feel a bit of that as well.”

Teris’ brows furrowed. “Just how old are you?”

Alowishus wagged a finger at her. “A proper bred young royal like you should know it’s impolite to ask.”

“Just how old are you?” Yami questioned.

Alowishus smirked and turned away. “Come. Time runs short.”

Though they didn’t come upon any traps. They did happen upon two beasts. Just as Alowishus had said, the creatures were more difficult to subdue than expected. Finally they reached a large cavernous chamber with a set of towering double doors that looked near identical to the ones that had housed the History of Chaos.

“Our time together is almost over.” Alowishus said, as if saddened by the fact.

“You’ll keep your word and let us go.” Yami prompted.

“Of course. I’m a man of my word. After this, you and Teris are free to go. Until I next require you that is.”

“Nozel and Fuegoleon?” Teris questioned.

“Your beloved cousin and your Intended will be set free as well.” Alowishus said.

“Last time we faced a vault containing something having to do with Yurist and Chaos the doors snapped shut behind us and didn’t reopen till someone from the outside did so.” Yami said.

“That won’t be an issue.” Alowishus said.

“Why? Got a tracking charm on you that you’ll leave where you’re standing so the Spatial Mage with Bronn’s hands can portal here and open the doors when we’re done?” Yami asked.

“Clever. But no.” Alowishus told.

“Then what’s your plan for getting us out of there?” Teris questioned.

“Me.” Alowishus said.

“You?” Teris stared.

Alowishus’ expression darkened. “Even if you don’t trust me. Trust that I don’t want to be in that vault room any longer than necessary.”

Alowishus turned and looked at the vault doors. Excited as he was to once again see and this time receive the Future of Chaos, he wondered if his grandfather’s work would have him. And if added to his grimoire, what, if anything, the page of Chaos would show him.

96.3

Nozel’s eyes slowly opened. Even with the pain, thirst, hunger, and fatigue muddling his senses; he could feel a swell of mana not too far from where they were.

Guilt washed over him. Not just for Teris agreeing to whatever Alowishus wanted for his and Fuegoleon’s sake; but for the terrible state the Crimson Lion was in.

During their questioning, the Agents of Chaos had taken to torturing the other in effort to get them to comply. The tactic had worked a lot quicker on Fuegoleon, who had caved, reluctantly answering their questions. Nozel’s will to protect Teris and ability to tune things out had seen him hold out longer. Their tormentors cutting into Fuegoleon’s flesh and magically tearing at his insides as Alowishus calmly waited for Nozel to answer.

Much as he wanted to, Nozel couldn’t fully lay the blame of this on Yami. Not when he and Fuegoleon were being used to make Teris comply with Alowishus Spade’s wishes. Not when even he had broke for Fuegoleon’s sake and answered the mans questions. He tried to recall what those questions had been but currently couldn’t.

His still good eye, the other swollen shut, turned in the direction of the swelling mana. The direction Alowishus had taken Teris and Yami in. He hoped Teris was alright, and silently swore he’d kill Yami if the man let anything happen to her.

Still unconscious, Fuegoleon’s shallow breath rattled in his chest. The Crimson Lion was fading. Yami and Teris needed to hurry.

96.4

Yami’s head snapped up, sensing a rise in Alowishus’ mana.

Teris turned to the man as well, tone accusatory. “The peak of the new moon has a similar effect as the solstice does for us.”

“Not the peak of the new moon. The moment right before. When it is at its darkest. The height of the moons death, if you will.” Alowishus gestured to the closed vault doors. “After you.”

“Never been in a labyrinth where the vault doors didn’t open. Do we just bust in?” Yami asked.

Teris shook her head. “There’s magic holding the doors closed. If we try to force it, the reaction could be similar to our magic when it clashes.”

Yami looked up. “Under three hundred some odd meters of earth and stone. I don’t like our chances of surviving that.”

Teris turned to Alowishus. “The labyrinth’s not active. There is no way we can open the vault doors.”

“You disappoint me. Unless you’re hoping I’m that stupid.”

Teris’ mouth opened, but Alowishus continued on.

“I assure you. I didn’t go through all this trouble without being certain there was a way to open a sleeping labyrinths vault room.”

“Then do it.” Teris said.

“Now that does make me certain you know better. Did you forget the rules regarding your friends up top? Think you could see me dead by tricking me and light travel to them before my followers kill them?” Alowishus’ eyes darkened. “Open it up.”

“The mana you gave me— I doubt it’ll recognize it as mine.” Teris said.

“Then we will just have to hope your system was able to assimilate enough of it for the labyrinth to recognize it is you.” Alowishus said.

“What’s that?” Yami asked, looking between them.

Frowning at Alowishus, Teris explained. “If what Yurist wrote is true. Then our mana should be able to open the doors.”

“So why can’t he do that?” Yami asked.

Teris stepped before the doors. “Shall we.”

Yami scowled. “I asked you a question.”

“Leon and Nozel don’t have much time.” Teris told.

Yami stared a moment. Something was off. He didn’t like how Teris didn’t answer him. How she wouldn’t even look at him, staring straight at the door. But she was right. Braid Face and Lion Cub were in bad shape. They didn’t have much time.

Heaving a sigh, Yami tilted his head side to side, stretching his neck. “How much mana are we giving to open up this thing?”

Teris swallowed, nervously. “As much as it needs in order to recognize us as us.”

Yami did the same as Teris and placed his palm on the door. He slowly loosened his hold on his mana. Even a couple paces from Teris and in direct contact with the object he was letting his mana seep into, it was a struggle to keep it from veering to connect with hers.

A pressure beneath his hand built as if something other than the door was stretching out, making contact with him. It apparently approved, as it stopped taking in his mana forcing Yami to pull back on the eased harness of it least his lose control and his mana connect with Teris’.

Yami turned to Teris surprised she wasn’t done as she had started before him. He stepped to her. A prickle of foreboding tickling the back of his neck. “Teris?”

Watching Teris with interest, Alowishus warned. “I wouldn’t touch her.”

Yami spun to the man, temper and worry rising. “What’s happening?”

“It’s trying to decide if it’s really her.” Alowishus said.

“What do you mean, if it’s her? Of course it’s her.”

“Did you forget? I gave her a portion of my mana.” Alowishus said.

Yami’s muscles tensed, concern tipping into fear. His jaw clenched, understanding what Teris and Alowishus had been talking about. Understanding why she had avoided answering and had refused to look at him.

“I’m confidant her system has been able to assimilate enough of my mana and make it her own by now.” Alowishus eased.

“Bastard! I’ll kill you!” Yami stepped toward Alowishus, katana cloaked in darkness.

“Do you really wish to be the death of Teris’ beloved friends when you are so close to seeing them and yourselves go free? Or was this your secret plan all along? To lash out at me and get her Intended out of the way. Permanently.”

Katana raised to send a slash of darkness, Yami paused.

Alowishus lifted a shoulder, smirking. “I can’t say I blame you. You face enough trails with me and my plans as it is. It would undoubtedly be a relief not to have to deal with the mess of having to fight in order to make Teris yours. You know I could just activate the charm. We could finish up here and return to the top. It’ll simply appear to Teris as if they succumbed to their injuries. It will be our secret. She need never know.”

Yami glared. The cloak of darkness disappeared from his blade. “No.”

“I could send message for only Nozel to be put down.” Alowishus tempted. “Fuegoleon, if he still lives, isn’t the problem after all.”

“I said, no.” Yami growled. He sheathed his katana.

Teris fell to her knees.

Yami turned back and knelt beside her. “I got you. You alright?”

“Yeah.” Teris breathed.

Yami brushed her hair back noting how pale and feverish she was. “When we get outta here you and I are gonna talk about the chance you took without telling me.”

“Had to—for Nozel and Leon.” Teris panted, trembling hand wiping her sweat drenched brow.

Looking down at them, Alowishus felt a pang of disappointment that Yami hadn’t taken him up on his offer. Maybe it was merely because Death had helped create Darkness; but there was something about Yami that made him want to win the young man over.

Alowishus stepped in front of the opening vault doors. “Up. We still got our prize to receive.”

Ignoring the man, Yami asked Teris. “Can you stand?”

Still out of breath, Teris merely nodded.

Yami hooked her arm around his neck and wrapped his arm around her waist. Easily bearing most of her weight, he lifted her to her feet with him as he stood. “Let’s get this over with.”

They stepped into the vault with Alowishus. Yami and Teris looked at each other, puzzled when they weren’t congratulated by the same Crazy Happy Killer Voice that had greeted them when they received the History of Chaos.

If the labyrinths were created by the same person. Even if that person wasn’t Yurist himself. Then surely things would be similar. The doors and interior of the vault were almost identical.

At least this vault didn’t have bodies in various stages of decay, Teris morbidly thought.

Alowishus seemed to realize something was wrong as well. Mana flaring, the Master of the Agents of Chaos released a roar of fury. The chamber they were in shook around them. Dirt and stone raining down.

Yami held Teris tight, creating a shielding cocoon of blackness. “Get us out of here!”

Teris would’ve done so but for one thing. Her concern for Nozel and Fuegoleon’s lives. Alowishus still held that charm.

“Now!” Yami gritted, dark cocoon straining against the weight of the crumbling labyrinth.

Teris light traveled them to where they had last seen Fuegoleon and Nozel.

“Get away from them!” Alowishus ordered his people when they made to move against Yami and Teris.

Teris spun around. Yami’s shield dropped,

Teris’ hand lifted on instinct. She sent out a burst of incinerating light only for it to dim and slow as soon as if left her. Slowed as it was, it was still faster than most magical attacks.

Caught by surprised, Alowishus didn’t get a chance to move. The attack struck him in the chest. There was a moment of stillness as everyone stared.

Alowishus and Teris blinked at one another. They both knew he had been undefended and her direct hit should have instantly killed him.

Rage still consuming him, Alowishus counted this as one thing going his way this night. “It would seem your system hasn’t assimilated enough of my mana for it to harm me. Better luck next time.” He saw Yami reach for his katana and ordered. “Misandre. Quickly now.”

Alowishus didn’t wait around long enough to see if Misandre was able to portal his followers out in time. Breaking apart, he disintegrated into the earth.

Katana cloaking in darkness even as he unsheathed it from its scabbard, Yami sent out a several dark slashes. He cursed, knowing before they cut down the trees beyond that he was too slow. Alowishus and the Agents of Chaos were gone.

Yami turned to Fuegoleon and Nozel. With a swipe of his blade, he cut the Silver Eagle and Crimson Lion free. Hoping Alowishus' foreign mana wouldn’t adversely effect her light traveling Fuegoleon and Nozel, Teris took the four of them to Healers Hall.

96.5

Alowishus’ anger had barely calmed. Storming into his private office, he slammed the door behind him and made for the shelf behind his desk, picking up his father's skull.

“Your lied!” Alowishus roared, gripping the skull in both hands.

“I told you, your efforts would be futile.” A voice resonated in his head.

Alowishus shook the skull, not hearing the dead mans words. “The Future of Chaos was not there!”

“The Future of Chaos is not for you.” The voice of the skull sounded in his mind.

“I had a plan to work around that. It was faultless.” Alowishus snapped.

“Apparently not.” The voice said.

“You placed grandfathers work back inside labyrinth 297,353 after you retrieved it, putting special protections in place to keep me out.” Alowishus said.

“You mean after I took back what you stole?” The voice of Erin Spade questioned.

Alowishus snarled, grip tightening. “I had it in my grasp and you took it. Stole it.”

“You stole it first.”

Alowishus slammedthe skull down and turned away. He had barely been able to delve into the unfathomable knowledge that was the Future of Chaos before his father had ripped it from his grasp. He had been sure his father had placed the page back in labyrinth 297,353 for Yami and Teris to eventually find; certainthat his father had merely set barriers to block his re-entrance, since he had been unable to enter again until tonight.

“You placed grandfathers work back inside labyrinth 297,353 after you retrieved it.” Alowishus said, again.

“Did I?” His father's voice sounded in his mind.

“You moved the Future of Chaos to another location!”

“You moved it first when you stole it.”

“You changed the future Yurist saw. You ruined Yami and Teris’ destiny to have the Future of Chaos.” Alowishus accused.

“More thanlikely, I kept theprophecy concerning the Future of Chaosin tact. While my father’s prophetic words could often be unclear. That one sentencewas quite clear. Findand receive. It could hardly be said those twofound the labyrinth, what with you setting upon them and forcing them to bend to yourwill and go down there. I have full confidence that Yami and Teris will find and receive my father’s final work, if they haven’t already.”

“What do you mean haven’t already?” Alowishus demanded.

“Destiny canonly be bent to your will so far before it snapsback to its own designs, Fin.”

Alowishus sneered at beingcalledby his first life's name. “I will have my way, Old Man. Yami and Teris will help me awaken Chaos and see to a finalend. I will get what I have worked sevenexistencesfor.”

“Good luck doing it without the Future of Chaos.” The voice taunted.

“You are useless and more infuriating every time I speak to you. I should ground your bones to dust and forget you ever lived.”

“I wish you would.” The skull of Erin Spade said.

“That would bring you too much joy. Finally finding your rest after all these years. No. You will not rest until I have my way.” Picking up the skull, Alowishus set it back on the shelf. “Till the death of the next moon, Old Man. Know that I won’t enjoy the three nights of your company anymore than you will mine.”

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day. Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

“He’s ill.” Jax said.

“How ill?” Marx asked.

“Deathly.” Yami rumbled.

#yami sukehiro #nozel silva #fuegoleon vermillion #julius novachrono #mereoleona vermillion #black clover #light in the darkness

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kai-keda · 4 years

Text

Cowards Die Many Times | DreamSMP Fanfic

Wow okay so I literally JUST made a post flat-out making fun of myself for writing this but in the tags I made a comment of “Should I post this?” and wow three people already reblogged with comments expressing I share.

So, you can thank (or blame lol) @thesmpisonfire @tommyistheprotagofthesmp and @ak3m0n for this being posted here at all. Depending on what the response to this is on here, I may or not post it on a03 and, again, depending on the response, I may or may not make this a sort of collection of one-shots detailing different death scenes and how the characters felt in those moments.

A/N:

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE REAL LIFE STREAMERS!

I view the DreamSMP storyline as a sort of Dungeons and Dragons game with no real DM. Just players running around a world that they create as they go along and cause whatever chaotic instances and plot points they can manage. As such, while I write this and as you read this I want you to remember - burn into your brain - that this story isn’t about the real Minecraft streamers. They aren’t even streamers in this fic, they are fictional characters living in a made-up fictional world. I get that the line is blurred due to the nature of the videos this is based on, but I view it as being sort of like how when you write a character like Spiderman, you’re writing Spiderman, not Tobey Maquire.

All that being said, I really wanted to just write this concept of how death and respawn works with Tubbo from a certain festival event but as it turns out, he is very uncomfortable with the concept of fanfiction written about him. (Thank you SMP-boundaries for your God sent Tumblr) As such, even though I don’t see it as me writing literally him as I’m sure he’s seen plenty of, I won’t include anything from his perspective and try to limit any sort of mention of him. (I can’t bring myself to surgically remove him entirely. That would just be impossible because of how much of a part he plays both in what visibly happens and in Tommy’s development) ALSO PLEASE do not go out of your way and tag or try to show any of the Minecraft streamers/youtubers involved in this (not that y’all would lol). I happen to know that Tommy especially doesn’t want to see them even if he’s okay with them existing.

This was also meant to be a sort of collection of ficlets in one chapter. It was going to include more than this one scene and even include a POV from Wilbur but, uh, wow I got really carried away heh

SO YEAH! Now we got the important bits out of the way, please enjoy~

Cowards Die Many Times

“Do I shoot him Wil, or do I aim for the skies?” It was a heavy question. So heavy he couldn’t bring himself to raise his head. As they stood together and allowed the light reflecting off the water shine on them in a subtle way, Tommy considered his options. The answer should have been obvious. After all, this was war and this duel was their ticket to end it all and free themselves from their previous leader. The one Wil and he had labeled as a tyrant.

Dream.

“Tommy I -” A pause. Tommy looked up at his general. The only man he would ever take orders from. Wilbur Soot. He could see in his eyes that he had messed up. This was a burden Tommy couldn’t handle anymore. The deafening silence lasted for all of two seconds but it felt like eternity. He would never know for sure what Wilbur thought of his outburst and challenge towards their worst enemy, but the answer he received relaxed him. If only for a bit.

“I want you to do whatever your heart tells you.”

Tommy took a deep breath and relaxed it before turning around and going towards the man who hid behind a mask.

“Coward.” He whispered to himself. When he thought the word, he believed it was for Dream but now that he felt it leave his mouth and heard the shake of his voice, he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or not.

He walked to the center of the wooden path and held his bow tight. The tyrant, with his bright green hoodie that seemed to act as a target and challenge, laughed with his friends. With George and Sapnap. As if he felt this was all a game and after he won it would all be over with him holding more than bragging rights. The worst of the scene was that even Eret - the traitor - joined in their fun.

With such thoughts running through his mind, it’s no wonder the decision Tommy came to.

They needed their independence.

And Tommy had the perfect opportunity.

He knew what death felt like. He had nearly grown used to it. Maybe that’s why he was always so quick to start fights, skirmishes and even join wars. That was probably why he felt no regret with this decision to challenge the immediate area’s strongest member.

But if he was so used to death, then why did he shake so much?

Dream finally left his friends behind to watch as he walked towards Tommy. The younger of the two swallowed his nerves and did his best to glare. The smiling mask stared him down. Was Dream glaring under there? Was he shaking within the loosely fit hoodie? Was he…

“Are you taking this seriously at all, Dream?”

“Oh, I don’t know. This seems pretty easy.”

Oh yeah, Tommy was killing him for sure. To hell with any sort of ‘honor’ that supposedly came with throwing away ones shot in a duel, Dream was officially a dead man.

“Remember, Tommy,” Dream stated with his usual calmness, “when I win, you give me the disk, Mellohi, and you all give up this silly tantrum for good.”

Tommy glared even harder as now he was angrier than ever. Dream was always after his music disks, his most prized possessions in this God forsaken land. Betting one of them was worth it if it meant seizing total and complete independence forever for this wonderful vision Wilbur had shared with him.

He thought briefly about the disks. About why they were so treasured by Dream and himself.

For Dream they were merely bargaining tools. Something he could use to keep Tommy under control and stop him from starting anymore fights with anymore members under Dreams thumb. The deal would be that if Tommy got involved in any sort of ‘griefing’ of any kind, Dream would burn the disks. Though, to be completely fair and honest, all of that had started with Sapnap burning an unrelated member's home and then dragging both of the now dueling men into the fight.

But for Tommy? These disks were everything. There was something nostalgic about the sound of music, as though there was something he had long forgotten from a time far behind him. It was incredibly rare where they lived to find such things and Tommy, Tommy had two of them. Each a different mixture of sounds that brought their own unique textures to his mind.

He was not about to throw away his shot.

A whisper entered his mind and he did his best to not give away who it was from. For someone to use this ability, one that made themselves freeze in place and become vulnerable, especially at a time like this, it was important. So he simply continued to glare at Dream.

‘There’s no turning back now, Tommy. Good luck out there. My right hand man.’

Tommy took a deep breath before yelling out as loud as he could. “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO!”

At the sound of yelling, Dream, Sapnap, George, Eret and even Tubbo - the only other member as young as the loud blonde child and one of their allies - all laughed. But the rest of his side? His makeshift army? They starred with an apathetic energy Tommy wasn’t sure what to feel about. All looked as though they had given up on this hopeless revolution. The humanoid fox and supposed child of the general, (it was unclear how serious he was of such a claim as it was never confirmed) Fundy, even went so far as to let out a sigh and shake his head.

He never was one to find such outbursts funny. It was as though he felt that Tommy treated this all as a simple game with no consequences. Yeah, he hadn’t experienced death nearly as many times as Tommy had, so maybe he did think more of it.

Wilbur, however, was hardly monotone in his expression and voice. As he spoke his next line, he looked directly at Tommy for only a brief second with worry and, more importantly, sadness. Wilbur had also already given up but as Tommy thought over that look, he realized that Wilbur, the one who was always looking after him as though he were an older brother charged with watching over the youngest child, was apologizing for dragging him into this. For supposedly making Tommy experience the worst possible torture this crazy world had to offer over and over.

Death.

“Are both parties ready?” Wilbur had questioned. After that one look, he refused to even so much as glance at Tommy. The younger one understood. Wil could never help getting emotional in times like these, after all.

Tommy turned to look at his opponent and the damn man was putting on a show of yawning, hardly looking prepared. He really was that confident.

Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at the one who seemed to like to smile a bit too much and yelled out “Are you ready to experience death, Dream?! Cause I’m ready to cause it for you!”

Dream shrugged and stood straight, bow in hand at his side. “Let’s hurry and get this started.”

Wilbur, still not looking at Tommy and, more surprisingly, not saying anything about his outburst of a response, stated the rules of the duel.

Turn their backs to each other, count ten paces - no more, no less - and then fire on your opponent at will. The first to die wins the duel and the agreement.

Either Tommy loses one-half of his most prized possessions, or he gains independence for their nation.

The count began. Tommy thought about what it would be like to kill Dream like this. No tricks, no silly traps and no real plans from either of them. Just a single arrow making contact and he would be dead. It was almost unreal. He would be a hero and would be considered a total badass. Maybe everyone, both enemy and friend, would finally respect him.

The count hit four. His thoughts turned away from such happy fantasies. What if Dream wanted revenge? He never took losing very well. Rather, he took it harshly, and the Lord only knew what George would do to them in unofficial retaliation. Dream would probably lightly suggest George return the favor to Tommy in a whisper and then claim to wash his hands of the incident. Just for the satisfaction of showing power while keeping whatever peace they decide upon after all this.

The count hit seven. Tommy centered himself. Maybe it was a bad idea to allow himself to daydream at this time. He probably should’ve been scanning and studying the terrain thoroughly and thinking of how to use it to his advantage and of how the other could use it against him. Think of a plan or at least a vague idea of the literal millions if not infinite possibilities.

Like hell.

Tommy always thought of plans only when he was backed into a corner and even then he was well into a battle.

Dream was the one to come up with every possible outcome and choose one of nine where he won. Tommy refused to be like Dream.

The count hit ten.

Tommy turned quickly and fired. His arrow went off and almost hit Sapnap, someone who was once an ally, if only temporarily, in his and Dream’s initial war. Way further off his target than the young man was willing to accept.

There was no time to think and sit in denial of being such a terrible shot. No time to listen to Dreams lackies yell at him to be a better aim or watch Tubbo cover his eyes while Fundy simply shrugged as though expecting it. Dream’s first arrow went by his ear so fast he almost felt as though it could deafen him and the older of the two was already aiming his second shot while Tommy was stuck in disbelief.

Tommy quickly moved and jumped to avoid the arrow that he knew would hit him if he didn’t but instead of landing on the wooden path, he crashed into the water. The very lake - or was it a pond? - that served to decorate the land and create a nice scenic area to sit and enjoy time with friends around. Tommy had forgotten all about it just as everyone had probably predicted.

Just as Dream had predicted.

As no arrows came, Tommy figured that Dream was waiting for him to surface so he took the time to ponder on his decisions.

After all, there was no doubt they were coming to bite him in the ass. There was no chance of him getting out of the water and not getting shot to death by a single arrow from his worst enemy.

This was it.

He was going to die again.

How much would it hurt this time? How long would he be stuck in an area of nothingness as whatever God that created them formed a new body? Would he be able to see his friends, to see Wilbur, as they are forced to give away any hope of a special place they could call their own?

Would it be slow and torturous as his body reels from the pain or would it be instant and clean? He had no way of knowing any of these things. He had no way of knowing what this death would feel like as, in his experience, there was no rhyme or reason to any of it.

What would one day only sting for a bit as he was instantly brought back to life, would cause him to spasm and feel his heart stop and his lungs give up their air for what felt like hours. In that one case that comes to mind, to add insult to injury, he would be trapped in that plain area that was completely absent of light and life with no way to contact anyone he loved (or hated).

They all knew this.

They all agreed that the fear of what would happen as you see the attacks coming and you feel yourself growing weaker could only sometimes be worse than the experience itself.

Tommy felt torn by everything in a single moment. If they all knew this, then why did they fight in this war to begin with? Was it worth these moments of pure fear and terrible agony?

Whenever he would die he would return as though nothing ever happened despite his true thoughts and experience. He was not one to talk about things like ‘feelings’ or ‘emotions’. That was something for women and only women. No matter how much Wilbur would try to encourage him to be more open like Tubbo, Tommy was a man. And he was always fighting to prove it.

Yes.

He may be positive he’ll lose. He may be certain there is no chance of winning this duel, but Tommy made a decision in that moment as he swam to the other side of the path.

He was going to die but he’d be damned if he let himself be the cause of Wilbur’s hopes in the form of their very own L’Manberg crashing down forever and for good.

First, he had to make it look good so no one else would suspect what he had hiding in the deepest part of his mind. An actual plan.

He jumped from the lake and pointed his arrow directly at the mask and right between the eyes but before he could fire, he was hit.

Ah. This one was going to hurt.

#dream smp #fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit #kairi yajuu fanfiction #cowards die many times #that's a Shakespeare #just btw #I was gonna add the scene where Tommy and Dream make the deal with the discs but that ending felt too damn right #when I wrote it and then read a few paragraphs back to that point #and it felt even better when I read through the whole thing several times #for quality control and stuff ya know?#anyways this is probably really cringe hah #hope they don't find this #oh yeah!#Not that y'all would but don't @ any of the creators to try and show them this #most of them don't mind that fanfiction exists #but they would rather pretend it doesn't #cough cough tommyinnit himself

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luci-bae · 3 years

Text

One Big Happy Family

trying posting my fics onf tumblr this one is cross posted on Ao3 by the same name. DreamSMP fic where Dream are immortal siblings and are adopted by Tubbo’s family. On-Going

Chapter 1

Dream didn’t know how long he’d been walking. It’s been ages since he’s slept properly in a bed and warm home. It made him miss his old village but what could he do. He was more than 1,000 years old and he’s seen so many of his homes be destroyed and die out. But that was expected

and it didn’t help that his brother Ranboo had to endure this with him. They knew that whenever they joined a village they’d have to prepare for when the village eventually died but it never failed to hurt. Especially since they could never stop it. They walked into a spruce wood forest where the trees were so tall they couldn’t see the sky. As they were about to settle down in a tree for the night they noticed a warm light. Moving through the trees they were careful not to make too much noise in fear of scaring away whoever was there.

Once they were close enough they came upon a wooden two story house. They shifted they’re forms into something younger. Dream went from looking 30 to looking 10 and Ranboo looked like a newborn. Dream held the now small Ranboo in his arms and walked up to the door and knocked. When the door opened a man with ram horns and ears with fluff on the insides. The man wore a suit and looked down on the two slightly confused.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? Where are your parents?” The man had a deep, hoarse voice and seemed to be looking around trying to find the boy's parents. Dream looked down and quietly mumbled something the man couldn’t hear.

“Kid I’m gonna need you to speak up.”

“We don’t know where our parents are. I woke up in a tree and my brother was nearby.”

“Well I can’t let you two stay out here all night..Come on in.” He moved out the way and let the boys enter. Dream noticed there were more people living here. A small boy with tiny horns and floppy ears as well as a taller older man. The boy wore a green sweater and brown pants and when he saw Dream he rushed over and greeted him. The first man took little Ranboo from Dream and called for the other guy to get the crib out the basement. Called him the Captain.

The little boy tugged on Dream’s arm trying to get his attention and once he had it he started rambling.

“Hi my name is Tubbo!! What’s your name? Are you new? Do you live around here? Is the baby your brother?”

“Tubbo calm down. You’re gonna overwhelm the kid. Anyways hello there. My name’s Jordan but people call me the Captain.” The man now the Captain said as he reentered the room. Ranboo was gone and so was the first man. The Captain guided Dream to the living room and had him take a seat before leaving the room. Tubbo was playing with blocks on the floor and when The Captain came back he had a cup of tea and a sandwich. He handed both to Dream and sat down on a chair in front of him.

“Alright kiddo wanna introduce yourself now?”

“Oh..uh.. Sure. My name is Dream and the baby is my brother Ranboo.”

“Why were you out in the woods? It’s almost winter you know?”

“Yea..I don’t know why we were out there. I just woke up in a tree and Ranboo was tied to a branch.”

“Ahh.. so you don’t know where your parents are either?”

“No sir..”

“Would you like to stay with us? I’m sure Tubs wouldn’t mind siblings”

“Oh that would be great thanks!!”

The Captain smiled at the young boy and left Tubbo and Dream to their own devices. The two were building a city out of legos and talking animatedly to each other while The Captain was in the kitchen cleaning up any mess left behind from dinner. When he deemed it late enough He ushered the two boys upstairs. He read them stories until they fell asleep. Dream knew he shouldn’t get attached but this, being read bedtime stories in a warm comfy bed, it made him happy and he could only imagine how Ranboo is feeling.

Dream fell asleep with a content smile on his face. The Captain dimmed the lights and left the room leaving the door slightly ajar. As he headed back downstairs he passed his brother Schlatt in the hall. Schlatt sighed tiredly and told Jordan that he was taking care of them tomorrow before heading to bed. Jordan quietly laughed and headed to his own room and fell asleep thinking about the two new kids of his.

Chapter 2

The next few years went by fast. Dream was now “15”, Ranboo was “5”, and Tubbo was 10. The Captain now Dad to the three young boys and Schlatt their uncle each took turns staying with them. While one was out working the other here in the house teaching them everything he knew. The Captain taught them manners and core subjects like math, english, science, and history. Schlatt on the other hand taught them social skills, business, and street smarts. They worked well together and the boys were able to learn a lot.

Until one winter. Ranboo had begged to be able to go outside and help the Captain. And the Captain who couldn’t say no to the little kid, let him join him. They left but soon after they did a blizzard came in. Schlatt told Tubbo and Dream not to worry, The Captain was smart and he'd come back when the storm ended. So they waited. And waited.

And waited for the storm to stop. It went on for three days straight and when it finally stopped Schlatt didn’t hesitate to dress the boys up in their winter jackets, scarves, and gloves. He handed them lanterns and they started searching for the two. They checked for any hastily built shelters, any footprints, anything that could possibly help. But they found nothing. Not even a body.

At least if they found a body they’d get some confirmation on them. But there was nothing. When they got inside Dream and Tubbo ran up the stairs and locked themselves in separate rooms. Schlatt could hear quiet sobs from the blond freckled boy and loud wails from the small brown kid. Schlatt knew he had to do something so he went to find a few items.

Winter had come and gone and now it was spring. The boys stayed inside and continued to build their perfect city. Schlatt was outside planting so everything will be grown in time for fall. Soon he called for them to come outside and handed them a couple of things.

To Tubbo he gave bees. He guided Tubbo to a mini garden full of flowers and bees for Tubbo to take care of. Tubbo was instantly infatuated with the buzzy little things that flew around the tiny stubs growing from his head. The bees clearly liked him and Tubbo seemed at peace around them. He started planting flowers while playing with the bees.

From Dream though Schlatt gave him something different. It was a large oversized green hoodie and a white mask with a smiley face on it. Dream looked at him confused and Schlatt explained that these belonged to Captain.

“But why me? I’m not even the Captain’s real son....”

“Listen Dream. Before the Captain had his military fame, he was just Jordan. Jordan the kid that would do anything for his family.”

“....”

“You deserve it. I know you’ll do the Cap justice.”

“...Thank you Schlatt.”

Schlatt helped Dream put on the mask and adjusted the mask on him. The hoodie was big on him but Schlatt assured him that he’d grow into it. After he put on the hoodie he smiled behind the mask. The spring air felt much lighter than before. Dream and Tubbo were given weapons by Schlatt and were told to go hunting. They did start out hunting and were able to get some food but were soon distracted and started to play.

“Woah Dre you’re so cool!”

“Aw thanks Tubs.”

“Your name is Dream but you can be such a terror sometimes..hm..” Tubbo held his chin as he thought about something. Dream jumped down from the tree he was in and stared at him. He ruffled Tubbo’s hair which made the younger smile up at him before saying

“I know what you are!!”

“O-oh do you now?”

“Yeah! You’re a Dreamon!”

“What’s a Dreamon? Tubs?”

“A Dream Demon aka a Dreamon!”

“Oh really? So what makes you think I’m a Dreamon?”

“Oh- Hmm….I don’t know...heh…. You just are!!”

Dream and Tubbo laughed as they walked back to the house. Inside Schlatt was cooking and the house smelt of cinnamon and apples. While the home felt slightly empty without the Captain and Ranboo, everything would be fine. Maybe it was because Dream had the Captain’s stuff but in his head and heart he knew they would both show up again.

Dream slept peacefully that night after months of restless nightmare filled sleep. They would both come home. He knew it.

???

“Captain? Where are we?”

“I don’t know Ranboo… Stay quiet though..”

They awoke in a small room that didn’t have any defined doors. Ranboo stayed off in the corner trying not to do anything because the Captain didn’t know his truth. He didn’t want to scare the Captain and there would be a lot to explain afterwards. The black obsidian walls reminded him of the pillars he saw back home but this space was much tighter and cramped than he liked.

The cold hard obsidian made the Captain shiver and reach out to protect the small boy in his care only to find himself in shackles connected to the wall. Ranboo however had no restraints. Maybe it's because their captors didn’t see the boy as a threat and if they didn’t see him as a threat the Captain could use that to escape.

He gestured for Ranboo to come closer. Ranboo shuffled over to his adoptive father and looked up at him, surprisingly calm. Ranboo knew he could probably escape easily; he had been in much more challenging situations than this before. He listened carefully as the Captain told him to find a way out and get help. The lanky boy nodded and stood in a corner, his white half against the wall hidden.

Ranboo kept his eyes shut while trying to stay as hidden as possible. The door opened and Ranboo prepared to make a break for it but was stopped in his tracks. Their captors grabbed Ranboo by his collar and left the Captain screaming in the cell alone.

#dream smp #dream #tubbo_#ranboo #jschlatt #fanfic #idk what to tag this as

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angrycupcakellama · 4 years

Photo

Hi! I’m pretty new on tumblr so I’m sorry if formatting looks weird. I’m also not native speaker so don’t slander me ples.

I created this challenge for myself because I reinstalled TS4 and I have been overwhelmed with amount of content I have in my game. I also got to the point that I just bored if I “wing it” with my families. Therefore I wrote down all careers I’m somewhat interested in and built this challenge. If you find it interesting feel free to use my notes.

Unfortunately you most likely would need most if not all expansion packs to properly play this challenge. This challenge is inspired by most popular ones in community.

Your family value dynasty a lot, so to treasure and value it, you and your descendants sworn to keep photograph of each heir of your main lineage. No matter what your family will get into, you must protect your heritage.

Basic rules and generations description are under read more.

General Rules:

Cheats are allowed, but do be aware that they take fun out of the challenge;

You have to complete career, aspiration, goals and skills, unless it specified not to;

You may move lots;

Life span may vary as well, but do try to do it on normal;

You may change goals for yourself if you wish;

You must take photograph of your heir (your sim can use any device);

You can also collect family pictures if you want;

This challenge wasn’t tested so be aware that some goals might be unachievable and you are free to ignore them.

For more fun you can follow one color/gender/name throughout generations. I also included only one supernatural generation, since I personally don’t like playing with them, but, of course, you are free to make witch/alien/vampire/mermaid/etc legacy.

Suggestions are unnecessary to follow and only serve as additional ideas.

1. The Selfish One

Story: You moved in new town and hungry for money. It doesn’t matter how you will get it, you will use all your ways.

Career: Lawyer (Attorney branch)

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Traits:

Kleptomaniac

Materialistic

Self-Absorbed

Goals:

Steal 50 objects in lifetime;

Earn money only via career/dates/robbing people;

Be a lover of rich person/people and cheat yourself 500$ every time you visit them/go on date with them;

Break up with them as soon as you get pregnant/they get pregnant (you get a child in any case);

Be neglectful of your heir;

Never marry, but you can see other sims (preferably rich);

You can have other children, but I wouldn’t recommend, as later generations are rich with kids;

Skills:

Charisma

Fitness

Debate

Logic

Suggestions for more fun:

Have your sim have awful reputation and get spouses, of people you are seeing, be your enemies;

Get your child taken away, so you got to have another baby.

2. The Kind One

Story: Your parent was an awful person and you feel responsible for their actions. You are not as smart as them but you want to try to make this place better.

Career: Conservationist (Environmentalist branch)

Aspiration: Super Parent/Bestselling Author (you choose one or complete both)

Traits:

Kind

Clumsy

Vegetarian

Goals:

Complete cleaning up Sulani;

Do weekly charity parties starting in adulthood (party type doesn’t matter, cheat whatever sum of money you want out afterwards);

Visit spas/do a lot of self-care actions;

Write book with every emotional boost (there are 4);

Write biography;

Marry your best friend (bonus points if they are your childhood sweetheart);

Have twins;

Have at least 3 children if you are aiming for Super Parent aspiration’s completion;

Follow eco-friendly lifestyle;

Collect all postcards;

Skills:

Parenting

Wellness

Writing

Logic

Charisma

Suggestions for more fun:

Make your sim make videos about self-care all the time;

Have 3 sets of twins;

Have your parent live with you and have tense atmosphere in house;

3. The Complicated One

Story: Your parent had good intentions but they were pretty naive. You have more realistic outlook on life as you first hand saw that no amount of love can fix person who doesn’t want to change. Your twin is criminal.

Career*: Detective

Aspiration: Computer Whiz (Do not complete)

Traits:

Loner

Gloomy

Non-flirty

Goals:

Move out from family house as soon as possible;

Try to not have friends outside work;

Play videogames as your sole entertainment;

Make your sim win videogame tourney;

Don’t cook, live on delivery or on food from stands (your spouse may cook);

Be enemies with your twin or at least have relationship in red;

Marry your colleague in adulthood;

Have one child (if you want more you can only adopt);

Have your twin move in the moment you have heir;

Die unnaturally before reaching elderly stage and have your twin raise your child (ideally child should be in toddler stage);*

Skills*:

Fitness

Logic

Videogames

Suggestions for more fun:

Last goal implies that your twin killed you. so you can get creative with scenario, get you sim killed in Strangerville or use mods;

Try to make your sim as socially awkward as you can, fail dates and wedding, birthdays and parties;

*A/n: From my other legacy challenge it’s not impossible to complete most of the goals by this stage but if your sim is getting close to aging you might ignore rules. Still try to complete most of it, start developing skills from teenage years.

4. The Sheltered One

Story: You never knew your parent and felt distanced from them. You turn to friendly society of women who claim to practice magic as they give you what you are seeking for - a family. But are things as simple?*

Career: Freelancer

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Traits:

Family oriented

Loves outdoors

Crazy

Goals:

Run away as teen

Create a witch cult and join it (it’s quite challenging, I recommend making Forgotten Hollow the cult town, it’s small and already has gloomy atmosphere);

Limit interactions with people outside cult;

Become a witch and be potion oriented;*

Fall in love with outsider and run away, do not practice magic afterwards (ideally outsider should be person who you absolutely have to interact, such as schoolmate or stands salesman);

Earn your money by any creative skill;

Have 3 children and encourage free spirit in them (ignore responsible trait, make them skip school to spend time with you);

Have garden (may have money from it as well);

Get full frog collection;

Skills:

Herbalism

Gardening

Cooking

Baking

One creative skill of choice (painting, music, writing)

Suggestions for more fun:

Explore Selvadorada ;

Make your sim as weird as you can, mismatch clothes (crazy trait will help you)

*A/n: If you don’t want to deal with witch side you may ignore the whole thing and just create cult.

5. The Lazy One

Story: Your parent always viewed life as something you have fun with. Sure you are not responsible whatsoever but life is too short to waste it on career building.

Career: Florist (don’t have to complete it)

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief (don’t have to complete it)

Traits:

Creative

Slob

Non-committal

Goals:

Don’t make any efforts to move up career ladder, skip days and don’t do daily tasks;

Live on off grid lot until adulthood;

Make money from your career and creative skill your parent had (they can teach you it);

Do pranks at least once a week (do not do them in your house, if you live alone);

If you get fired change careers to part-time, you can even not get job at all if you don’t need money;

Have on and off relationship with your romantic interest;

Eventually propose to your love interest but leave them at the altar;

Do have child with them;

Have other 4 children with 4 different sim;

Have small house so everyone have to be in each other space 24/7, have your eldest take care of smaller children (you might want to download double bunk bed for children);

Skills (ideally do not master any):

Flower arranging

Mischief

Creative skill of choice

Suggestions for more fun:

This is pretty chill generation, so I suggest just mess around with love interest and children;

6. The Perfect One

Story: Your parent was messy in everything so of course you won’t become the same and find better usage of your talents.

Career: Stylist

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Traits:

Perfectionist

Ambitious

Art Lover

Goals:

Start with 100$ and build yourself up;

Open boutique and get it to 5 stars;

Visit art galleries once a week;

Marry sim who also has Perfectionist trait;

Have butler;

Try to make your house luxurious;

Have two children;

Be extremely strict with them (have a curfew and forbid romantic relationship until young adult stage, their grades have to be A+, all their traits in positive);

Skills:

Charisma

Painting

Writing

Violin

Piano

Fitness

Suggestions for more fun:

Master Photography Skill;

Have your children actually date others sims but in secret;

Live off your paintings in elderly age;

Dress everyone prudishly;

7. The Baby

Story: Your parent was so strict with you, so of course you got to prove that stable career and being perfect is not how life should be.

Career*: Actor

Aspiration*: Master Actor/Master Actress

Traits:

Childish

Squeamish

Jealous

Goals:

Have multiple lovers;

Be mean to people without any reason;

Live in mansion with butler and nannies;

Make videos in free time;

Win award;

Get involved with fan and get your career ruined (you choose how);

Get into red reputation, stop earning money and move out from your mansion to cheap apartment;

Meet with future spouse with kind trait;

Marry and have one child;

Have rocky relationship, divorce eventually;

Earn money from videos only;

Skills:

Acting

Charisma

Comedy

Mischief

Video making

Suggestions for more fun:

It’s dramatic generation, so go full drama;

Earn 1.000.000$;

Have thing with butler;

If you want even more ruined life, you may have child with this fan and hate your child;

*A/n: I don’t know whether it’s possible to complete career and aspiration by the time you have to ruin your career because I believe it has to happen in adulthood so you still have time to finish other goals. You may ignore them.

8. The Right One

Story: Your parent had difficult life but you can’t help but be enamored with idea of how easy is to ruin lives.

Career: Critic (Art Critic branch)

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Traits:

Evil

Genius

Hates Children

Goals:

Never have a good friend unless they are from criminal background;

Marry into rich family and divorce immediately;

Have accident child and basically forget about them;

Have nannies and butler to deal with child;

Try to eat in restaurants (I know it’s pain so try to do it on off days);

Kidnap a child/teen and make them your slave;

Have big social media following, at least a million;

Have a club of either high class people or criminals and do shady stuff as well;

Skills:

Writing

Charisma

Piano

Painting

Suggestions for more fun:

Sorry I’m kind of out ideas but I imagine this sim as very uptight and manipulative, so play accordingly. It would be funny if your sim somehow got in jail by the end of their life, maybe there is mod for that.

9. The Broken One

Story: Your parent never loved you, why should you be kind to others? The only friend you can trust is your bottle.

Career: Education

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Traits:

Cat Lover

Mean

Paranoid

Goals:

Have 5 cats through your lifetime (but only when you moved out from your family house, also the limit of household is 8 sims so keep it in mind);

Name cats with pun names;

Marry a vet and have poor relationship with them, but never divorce;

Have as many children as you want, but have poor relationship with all of them;

Go to alien bar night and fight with them;

Overall visit bars often, be a juicegolic;

Cheat on your spouse with alien in disguise, then discover they are alien and fight them as well;

Have a lot of photos of your cats all over place (for next gen, you may consider making your heir do them);

Skills:

Logic

Wellness

Mixology

Debate

Charisma

Suggestions for more fun:

If you didn’t already, go solve Strangerville mystery (bonus points if your sim will drink all the time and it would seem as if they did whilst drunk);

I based this sim on Wine Mom stereotype so gossip a lot and get in petty fights as much as your soul wishes;

10. The Last One

Career: Engineer (either branch)

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Traits:

Bookworm

Cheerful

Dance Machine

Goals:

Go to University;

Be popular, have 20 good friends during your lifetime;

Have romance with rival University;

Never get into fights;

Make photography your hobby;

Date your servobot (may ignore this rule if you want to continue lineage);

Only adopt children (may ignore this rule if you want to continue lineage);

Collect Microscope Prints;

Go to parties all the time;

Have wall of all your ancestors;

Skills:

Photography

Robotics

Logic

This is last generation so you can pretty much do everything you want at this point.

Please reply or send ask to me if you have questions or find unachievable goal, also you can tag me if you will play this challenge.

Thank you for reading!

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 #s4 challenge #s4 #legacy challenge #ts4 #ts4 challenge

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