#wolfe is... shes wolfe ! unfortunately this Also makes her impossible t read because she is a universal constant 2 me.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

okkkk so ive been wonderingggg..... who are are the blue and the purple ocs you posted earlier 2day....i am so curious what is their lore

ouhg. ok. so. thats rose and wolfe, two of my lobcorp ocs part of a funy lil facility story im slowly ironing out :] um, nothing officials gonna come out of that, ijust write characters for fun, but they Do have an overarching.. Thing. going on. the lot of them.

but! those two mean a whole whole lot to me, theyve been on my mind a lot lately :] though um, their mess is. not as clear to me as some others', which is why i havent yet written up a loredump for them dkfjgndk;; but ill do my best!

wolfe is a character that Heavily self-isolates on account of not wanting to deal with anyone elses bullshit constantly. shes just kinda generally agitated at all times, snaps at just about anyone. which is on purpose, because if she has a reputation for being Scary and Unapproachable, well. people wont try. mostly.

unfortunately for her, rose is a character that Loves gossip and eavesdropping (under the cover of Simply Listening To People's Issues,) and That One Guy Who Sulks In A Corner And Hates Everyone is kinda prime material for digging into. And That She Does! Constantly. she is annoyingly persistent in trying to dig through whatever wolfe has going on, which she takes about as well as youd think she would.

rose posits it as Simple Curiosity, which wolfe doesnt really engage with, until eventually she nags so much that she starts giving one or two word answers just t get her off her back for once. ...buuuut that just means that its Working. and rose keeps trying. its just an on and on of pestering and shooing away and verrrry very slowly learning more about That Weird One That Doesnt Like Anyone.

and while wolfe keeps up that veneer of distance and disdain, its kinda.. weird. because even though it Is annoying, nobody has ever remembered what she talks about and builds off it like rose did. despite her own instincts to keep hidden, it Did genuinely feel like who she was was being respected for once. not as the caricature she put up, but simply As She Was. (she didnt know how to feel about that.)

on the other half of things, what started as a mostly disingenuous almost-game with herself ended up spiraling into genuine curiosity on rose's behalf-- she never shares much of herself much of ever, but she found herself unintentionally making exceptions with wolfe. every answer in between silences resonated in a way she wasnt really expecting. she keeps up her unruffled air, but... well, she does think about that one a lot. (that was new. and also an accident. huh.)

i dont really know what those two Have at that point in time, but They Have To Go Together, yknow?

um. dont worry about the issues. they dont exist if you dont look at them. nothing bad ever happens in lcorp.

anyway, you ever wonder what the difference is between an attack dog and a guard dog? which holds more beauty-- a prized flower or a weed growing through stone?

dont worry about it.

[daresplaining]

A Few Thoughts About the Current Run

    I feel like I ought to say a few things about my feelings on Zdarsky’s run, as of right now (August 2020, pre-Annual-- that may be important). I haven’t said much about this run, and I should admit that I actually stopped reading it for a while. At a certain point, I realized I was dreading the release of each preview, and took that as a sign that maybe I should take a break and just re-read some back issues instead. This is, above all, supposed to be fun; I never, ever want reading DD to feel like a chore.  

    That said, I am now caught up and feel ready to begin untangling exactly why this run is so distasteful to me. I’ve been fortunate to have other DD fans to chat with about this, which has helped me to pinpoint what my problems are... because on paper, this run seems like something I’d enjoy. Matt accidentally kills a guy; that’s always fun. Marco Checchetto is great. The story explores Daredevil’s relationship with the citizens of Hell’s Kitchen, which I love. Foggy helps Matt with an action-y Daredevil thing; that’s awesome. There are some very cool fights. Elektra is in it. Stilt-Man is (briefly) in it. It has all the trappings of an interesting narrative. But there is a giant hole in the middle of this run, and that hole is Matt Murdock-shaped and impossible to ignore.     

    I read Daredevil comics for a lot of things (anyone who’s been following me for the past few years might think I read Daredevil comics for Mike Murdock, and you may have a point there) but first and foremost, I read them for Matt. There is a lot that makes a good DD story great-- historically, the comic has featured great supporting casts, and that’s another problem with this run that I’ll get back to in a minute-- but Matt is always the anchor. One of the greatest strengths in Daredevil comes from the fact that the protagonist is such a compelling character. You are interested in what he’s doing. You want to follow his story. You enjoy being inside his head. I’m not saying that you can’t write a good Matt-free Daredevil story-- you definitely can. But if Matt is present and written poorly, the whole story will collapse around him, and that’s been my experience with Zdarsky’s run. Part of the reason I’ve taken so long to write this post is because I’ve been trying to figure out if my complaint comes from my own personal taste-- which is not a basis on which I can critique this comic-- or whether the problem is inherent in the work itself. Having discussed it with other people, I feel comfortable saying that I think the problem is in the writing. 

    Zdarsky’s Matt feels profoundly unfamiliar to me, and that in itself isn’t necessarily a problem, but I don’t find this new version of my favorite superhero interesting. I actually find him a little repellant. If this run had been my introduction to Daredevil, I would’ve said “Nope” and read something else. Matt is a character with depth. He is intensely multifaceted. His relationship to superheroing is complicated, his views on justice and morality are rich and often contradictory. Zdarsky somehow missed all of that and has crafted a one-dimensional character with a blatantly black-and-white sense of morality. Matt’s reaction to accidentally killing someone seems to be to decide that all superheroes are bad-- something I complained about at the beginning of the run and which, unfortunately, only grew more annoying as the story progressed. Zdarsky’s Matt is painfully self-righteous, to a degree that makes him extremely unlikeable (at least to me). And yes, Matt has been written as unlikeable before. I actually love when Matt behaves badly; I find that fascinating from a narrative perspective. But I’ve realized that the key reason that has been effective in the past is because the story has never condoned that behavior. When Matt was emotionally abusive toward Heather Glenn, Frank Miller went out of his way to show us-- via the side characters, via blatant expressions of Heather’s pain-- that Matt was in the wrong. When Matt was a jerk in Bendis’ and Brubaker’s runs, when he drove his friends away, when he acted irrationally and harmfully, the narrative commented on that jerkiness and irrationality. 

    But Zdarsky does not do that in his run. He presents Matt’s irrational and jerkish behavior without comment or nuance, as if it’s a perfectly normal, reasonable way for Matt to act under the circumstances, and I have been surprised to realize how distasteful I find that, and how bad it makes Matt look. There’s a difference between having a character who is comfortably flawed-- whose behavior you’re supposed to occasionally question-- and a character who is just unpleasant and unlikeable, seemingly by accident. In the most recent issue (#21), Matt has an extremely upsetting interaction with Spider-Man, one of his oldest friends, and Matt is positioned as heroic for behaving this way, and it made me feel a little ill, because there’s no textual examination or questioning of this behavior. It’s just Matt, pushing people away, being Angsty(TM) and Gritty(TM) and lone wolf-y just because, in a way that is grating and unpleasant and completely lacks nuance. 

    The other major element of Zdarsky’s characterization of Matt is religion. I’ve mentioned before (as have other DD fans before me) that Matt is not generally written as religious, and it’s a strange phenomenon that this characterization has appeared in multiple adaptations (the movie and the Netflix show) while having very little actual presence in the source material. But it was a key theme in the Netflix show, and while hopefully that influence will disappear from the comics as more time passes, we are still in a honeymoon phase wherein MCU elements are still popping up in the 616 universe. It’s clear that Zdarsky really liked the show, and Soule as well; I’m certainly not letting Soule off the hook here, because the idea of Matt being devoutly Christian showed up his run first. But there, you could get away from it if it wasn’t your thing (which, for me, it’s not). Soule had whole story arcs that didn’t mention it. But Zdarsky has made it 75% of Matt’s personality. When he isn’t fighting or sleeping with someone in this run, Matt is angsting about God. 

    I hesitate to complain about this because it’s Zdarsky��s right as a DD writer to change the protagonist however he likes. It’s frustrating, yes, but not actually a sign of bad writing per se. Plus, not everyone is me. Many people-- probably including many people who were fans of the Netflix show and are entering the comics via that connection (which seems to be the target audience for this run)-- may be religious and may connect to MCU/Zdarsky Matt in that way. And that’s wonderful. I want to be very clear: it’s not the religiousness itself that I’m complaining about. My complaint is this: if you’re going to drastically alter a character, you need to back it up. You need to dig into it, make that new personality element feel powerful and real, and integrate it into the character’s pre-existing personality. And if you’re going to base the entirety of that character’s emotional journey on that new trait, you need to work to make sure it’s accessible to your readership. I, as a non-religious person, have no sense of why Matt is so upset about God. I have no frame of reference for his pain, either from my own experiences or from previous Daredevil continuity, and Zdarsky does nothing to develop or explore the basis of Matt’s faith, and so it all just falls flat. I feel alienated by this run. I see an angsty, self-righteous, prickly jerk ranting about needing to do God’s will, and then I put the issue down and read some She-Hulk instead. If Zdarsky (or Soule-- again, he could have done this too) had made an effort to actually explore and explain Matt’s feelings about his religion, rather than lazily shoving that characterization in there and assuming readers will just accept it, it wouldn’t bother me nearly as much as it has. 

    Also, I feel I have to mention; this is a fantasy universe. Matt went to Hell and yelled at Mephisto in Nocenti’s run, and it was awesome. Maybe this is just me, but if you’re going to bring in religion, at least have some fun with it! Bookend Nocenti’s run: Matt goes to Heaven, runs into God, and she gives him some free therapy and a souvenir t-shirt (or, I don’t know, something). To give Zdarsky credit, he did at least hint at that sort of thing in Matt’s conversation with Reed Richards in #9. 

    I'm going to cut this post short, because I really don’t enjoy writing negative reviews. I’d much rather post about things I love, and over the next few weeks I do plan to highlight aspects of this run that I’ve enjoyed. But I’ll end by saying that the weaknesses in Matt’s characterization could have been mitigated by a great supporting cast. Having prominent secondary protagonists would have provided outside perspectives on Matt’s behavior and given the reader other characters to root for when he got too out-of-hand. They would have drawn out the human elements in Matt’s character and helped give him that nuance he so desperately needs. But this run, just like Soule’s before it, is woefully underpopulated. Foggy’s presence is extremely weak and his appearances far too infrequent. Apart from brief cameos in MacKay’s Man Without Fear mini, Kirsten McDuffie and Sam Chung have both vanished, and I’m worried that Kirsten might have joined Milla Donovan in the limbo of still-living-but-permanently-benched ex-love interests. The women in this run are all either villains or people for Matt to sleep with (I was pumped about Elektra’s return and the idea of her training Matt, but her characterization was disappointing (I may write a separate post about this), and Mindy Libris could have been really compelling as a moral person trying to survive life in a crime family, but instead she was just a one-note, underdeveloped victim for Matt to lust after). To Zdarsky’s credit, he has clearly been trying to give the Kingpin a humanizing story arc, but even that I haven’t found compelling enough to want to keep reading (though that could just be me). Cole North was intriguing at first, but he ended up feeling more like a concept than an actual person. And none of these characters engage with Matt on a human, emotional level, which is what a good supporting cast needs to do. I commented early-on that this run felt like all flash and no bang (Is that a term? It is now.) and I think I still stand by that-- it’s all bombastic plot concepts and big ideas without any of the actual development or nuance necessary to make them work. There is nothing in this run that has pulled me in and held my interest; in the absence of a Matt I can connect to, I need something, and so far I haven’t found it. 

    I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point. This run was nominated for an Eisner for best ongoing series, so apparently someone likes it, but it has become clear that-- so far, anyway-- it’s just not right for me.  

[starfast]

Happy International Women’s Day

In honour of today being International Women’s Day, I thought I’d share some of my favourite books with awesome female leads. There’s obviously tons of books out there that fit that criteria, but here are 6 of my more underrated favourites presented in no particular order: 

Onyx and Ivory by Mindee Arnett

Genre: YA Fantasy

Summary: Kate Brighton has been living as an outcast ever since her father tried to assassinate the king. She works for the Relay- the courier system where only the most skilled riders survive. Fortunately, Kate has the ability to manipulate the minds of animals, which helps her stay alive. Unfortunately, this type of magic is forbidden and if she’s caught she could be exiled or killed. It’s also this magic that causes her to come across the aftermath of a deadly dragon attack, the sole survivor of which is Prince Corwin, Kate’s first love. The two will have to put the past behind them, because unusual dragon attack is just the beginning. 

Other highlights: This book had all the potential to be a very generic read but somehow managed to not be. Kate is not just a badass, but also has a more vulnerable side to her which makes her more relatable. This book also features an actually healthy romance and did I mention that the girl saves the boy in this one?

The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: YA Historical Fiction (but with a tiny bit of fantasy)

Summary: Felicity Montague just really wants to be a doctor, but since it’s the 1700′s it’s almost impossible for her to do so. However, when she learns that her childhood friend is getting married to one of her idols, Felicity uses it as an opportunity to try and make her dreams come true. She travels down to Germany with Sim, a mysterious girl who agrees to pay for Felicity’s way. But Sim has an agenda of her own, and once it’s uncovered Felicity becomes part of dangerous quest that will take her from Germany all the way down to Algeria. 

Other highlights: This is technically a sequel to the Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue (which I also recommend). Just like it’s predecessor, The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy also has a small but diverse cast (Sim is Muslim, and while it’s never outright stated in the book the author has confirmed that Felicity is asexual. Her brother and his boyfriend also make an appearance, the latter of which is biracial). This story also handles the “not like most girls” trope in the best way possible. 

Skyward by Brandon Sanderson

Genre: YA Sci-fi

Summary: Spensa dreams of becoming a pilot, but because her father was labelled a coward, everyone is working against her. Even when she does make it into flight school, she has to work twice as hard because the people in charge don’t want her to end up like her father. But when Spensa comes across an ancient, sentient ship called M-Bot she convinces it to to help her defend her planet. 

Other highlights: If you like a book with lots of action then I’d highly recommend this one! At 513 pages, it’s more on the longer side but it always feels like something is happening. The fight scenes in this book are amazing, and there’s some really cool world building as well. And honestly, Spensa is an awesome protagonist. 

Sadie by Courtney Summers

Genre: YA Mystery/Thriller

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, pedophilia, murder, rape (let me know if I missed any)

Summary: After the death of her younger sister, Sadie sets out to find the man who killed her. She follows a trail of clues, hoping that it will lead to her sister’s murderer so that she can find justice. Meanwhile, West McCray, a radio personality hears about Sadie’s story. He starts a podcast that details his own journey to see if he can find out what happened to Sadie, who is now a missing person. 

Other highlights: This book will make you so emotional! The bond between Sadie and her sister felt so real, and was so well written. Sadie also has a stutter, and while I can’t say whether it was accurately written or not I haven’t seen any complaints about it yet. It does hit on some pretty heavy topics though, but I felt like it was handled well. 

The Girl Who Could Move Sh*t With Her Mind by Jackson Ford

Genre: Adult Sci-fi/ Mystery

Summary: Tegan Frost has the ability to move shit with her mind. As far as she knows, she’s the only one with this ability. So when a man winds up dead, murdered in a way that could only have been done by someone with telekinetic abilities all the suspicions fall on Tegan. Tegan knows she’s innocent, but she only has 24 hours to prove it. 

Other Highlights: First of all, yes, that is the real title. And this book is kind of exactly what you would expect with a title like that. Tegan is the sassy and sarcastic protagonist that I’ve been waiting for. Even though she does have that edge she’s not a one dimensional character (she kind of reminds me of Deadpool or like a better version of Maximum Ride in that sense). It’s honestly a super fun read, and also criminally underrated. 

Wolf by Wolf by Ryan Graudin

Genre: YA Alternate History/ Adventure

Summary: Set in an alternate history where the Germans won WW2 Yael is a former concentration camp victim, who as the result of some of the Nazi’s experiments can alter her appearance. Yael uses this ability to enter the Axis Tour; an annual motorcycle race that starts in Berlin and ends in Tokyo. Disguised as the previous year’s winner, Yael hopes to win the race so that she can win the private audience with Adolph Hitler and kill him. 

Other Highlights: I mean the plot of this one is kind of the main selling point. It may sound a little bit out there but it is honestly one of the most unique books I’ve ever read. Ryan Graudin didn’t write this just so people can say that originality is dead. 

[whyaretheyfictionalcharacters]

Kinktober - Day 5

Ok so, second Sterek instalment. Good stuff.

Originally posted on AO3.

xoxo Lexi

“I don't think anyone is really taking this seriously”, Stiles comments, stepping over a tree trunk with the same grace Derek has just showed. Exactly the same. He flays around his arms a tid bit but apart from that? They could be mistaken for the same person.

Derek twists around and goes to help him. “Are you?”.

“Well, considering who thought about this you're damn right I am”.

The treasure hunt was Lydia's idea, a way to build in-pack relationships and create a more stable net of connections among them. If Stiles thinks her intention was to simply prove again to everyone else who's the smartest in the pack—he's certainly not going to tell anyone, he's not suicidal. And that's exactly the same reason he's taking this (honestly a bit ridiculous) relationship building exercise seriously. Or as seriously as he can take it, anyway.

“Lydia scares you?”.

“Of course she does! Doesn't she scare you?”.

“Oh, I'm terrified of her”, Derek answers with a frown. “And she's tiny”.

Stiles laughs, dried leaves crunching underneath his sneakers. “Don't let her hear you”.

“She's not a werewolf”. A small shrug. “Jackson is the only one around and he's at least a mile away”.

As they walk in silence, the only noise around them being their footsteps thudding on the ground, Stiles finally finds some appreciation for the quietness of the preserve. Being here with Derek, letting their shoulders and fingers brush against each other after the messy few weeks they've had with threats in the supernatural world feels comfortable and surreal. And probably it's his leftover-teenage hormones speaking but he can't wait for this treasure hunt to end so Derek and he can run off to his room and blow off some steam. Or blow off something else. That does sound like a plan.

His dad would not come back until later that night, probably after dinner, and that'd give them – Stiles calculates quickly in his mind – five hours to get funky, to jelly roll. Scrog a bit and schtupp together. To take old one eye to the optometrist. To play hide the salami. To dip Derek's cookie in Stiles glass of milk. Numerous times, if the werewolf's refractory period gives any clue. They could start small; make out on Stiles bed and test the sturdiness of the frame – which they've already done, by the way and sneaking out a broken bed slat out of the Sheriff's home is not as easy as it might sound. Which doesn't sound easy. At all. So one can only imagine the uncomfortable conversation he's had to have with Mrs Wunderby from across the road – and then get rid of their clothes because Stiles is a selfless person and Derek's body is something that needs to be cherished and admired. Keeping it clothed would be like...like clipping wings off of a mighty eagle. Or shut down the Smithsonian. It'd have that much of a cultural backfire. It'd be immoral.

So Stiles would take Derek's clothes off and admire that chest of his, all wide and muscly and warm and furry in a sexy way. He'd dip his hand down to follow the line of hairs to his navel, go over it and open his jeans because if unclothing Derek's chest is a cultural aid for the entire state of California, than the sight of his cock is a spiritual experience.

Derek Hale is big. Not impossibly big – Stiles is sure he doesn't live in one of those ridiculous stories people read with enhanced and horse-sized dicks – but nevertheless he's...gifted. Must have something to do with those werewolf genes of his and if that's the case, dear Mother Nature, wolves are a gift to them all. What turns on Stiles though it's not just the size of his shaft – still has a pretty high place in the list of 'Reasons why Derek Hale is a gift from the gods and Stiles is grateful he's his boyfriend' – it's the utter difference there is between the two of them. And that's not a euphemism about his own cock, Stiles is pretty content with his genitals, no complaints there. No, that's not it at all.

Stiles still remember when he recognised what the issue was and he probably has to thank Erica for that.

“You're such a twink, Stiles”, she had said once during their weekly coffee meetings and Stiles has seen enough gay porn after his surprising epiphany in high school to know what a 'twink' is. He's not oblivious, or his name would've been Scott McCall.

He had tried to deny that in front of his salted caramel frappuccino but as usual Erica had her own arguments. “You are, Stiles. You and Derek are literally the epitome of a bear-twink relationship”.

And God, was she right.

The werewolf might be only slightly taller than him but his presence is mightier, his shoulders wider and his arms definitely bigger. Stiles always feels dwarfed every time he's in close proximity with Derek and he does not complaint about that. Not. One. Bit. Dude can pick him up without breaking a sweat and fuck him against the wall as if he weighted less than a baked potato with bacon sprinkles on top. Jeez, those are good times. Hot times. As in Death Valley hot.

“Stiles”.

Surely they can do something like that today. There are so many options to spend five hours sexing up a werewolf Stiles gets a bit dizzy sometimes: this is literally his teenage dream, with no skinny jeans on and a comfy mattress instead of bedsheets forts in a motel room. Take that Katy Perry.

“Stiles”.

“What? Whassup?”, he asks turning to look at Derek.

Who is currently staring angrily at him. He seems pretty pissed actually, if Stiles has to tell the truth. Unfortunately he thought he had left all those annoyed stares and growled words in the past so this is turning out to be a shocking turn of events. In a not-so-sexy way.

“Uhm...Der? Everything okay?”.

Green eyes seems to struggle to not turn bright blue, flashing dangerously between the two shades. “Where's your head at?”.

Okay, this does seem like a trick question. Lydia taught me about this sort of things. “On my...shoulders?”.

Derek does not seem impressed. “You smell—you're stinking up the place”.

“Oh. Sorry”, he mutters self-consciously.

He thought Derek liked his smell. Sometimes he also finds him with his face deep into his own pillow when he comes back from the bathroom after Derek spends the night; or he would dip his nose along Stiles' neck while they're watching a film on the were's laptop in his apartment. When they're in public and Stiles thinks about sexy-times-ensuring things Derek always can smell him and he gets this intense expression that almost resembles his old…

Oh. Oh.

“Oh”.

“Yeah”, Derek agrees tightly as he steps forward. “Oh”.

“I think—I think my head is not taking this, uh. This treasure hunt as seriously as before, big guy”.

One step forward. “Really now?”.

“Mmh-mm”. Stiles steps back. “I mean. Can you blame me?”.

“I don't know. We were just talking about Jackson”. Another step.

Urgh. “Let's not mention him, deal?”. Last step backwards and Stiles' back hits the thick trunk of a tree. “I really don't wanna think about him and sex together. That's just plain wrong”.

He can see a gleam of amusement and coyness as Derek stops in front of him, face just inches away from Stiles'. “Oh, is that what you were thinking about? Sex?”.

“Uh, duh. I was thinking about, you know, when this stupid treasure hunt is other and we can go back to mine and the fact that my dad is going to be out for at least five hours – I know, I counted them – and we could, you know. Get some stankie on hang down—”.

“God, Stiles”. Derek's face scrunches up horrified. “No”.

“No? You don't like that? Okay, how about I ride your flagpole?”.

“Stiles”.

“Storm the cotton gin”.

“Stiles”.

“Hit a home run”.

“Stiles”.

“Sorry!”, he says with a small smile at Derek's exasperation. “Thought you'd appreciate the baseball reference. But another thing I was thinking was—”.

Derek glares at him. “I swear to God, Stiles. If you say one more—”.

“—you said Jackson is at least a mile away and we're all alone now”. Stiles looks down bashfully and hooks his finger in Derek's waistband. “And who knows when this awful thing is going to end. Might not have time when we get home”. Looking up from under his eyelashes he smirk a bit. “We could save time and...do this. Now. Here”.

 He sees a shiver running up Derek's arms just before they're placed on the tree caging his head. “You want to do it here?”.

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Now?”.

“Yeah”. A breath and a whimper.

He has enough time to think about the possibilities when a mouth descends on him and sharp, human teeth bite his lower lip, pulling reverently before nipping it. Stiles gasps when Derek's body presses up against his through the many, too many layers of clothes they're currently wearing. Derek takes that opportunity to slip his tongue between the other's lips, teasing the wet muscle and probing the mouth with deep, hungry movements.

“Lydia's—shit. Lydia's going to be so angry”, Stiles weakly comments before moaning as Derek's hips press against his, trapping him between his warm, strong body and the cold trunk behind him.

“Do you care?”.

“Fuck no”.

He snakes his hands underneath Derek's t-shirt, revelling in the heat of his olive skin, the softness of his hairs and the hardness of his muscles. One of the wolf's thighs gets between his own, providing some blessed friction for Stiles' awakening cock. He rubs himself against Derek, feeling the need to open his legs for him and the sensation of emptiness is starting to get too uncomfortable to be ignored as they're kissing. He's never been an exhibitionist (he thinks, though he's discovering all kinds of kinks in his relationship with Derek) but the idea of having the wolf inside him, right here and now in the middle of the preserve with the afternoon light out still, the terrifying possibility of the pack finding them out—it seems to be exciting in all the wrong ways.

“Derek”, he sighs, lips sensitive from beard burn. “I need—God—I need you to—to fuck me. Like. Yesterday”.

Derek's mouth descends on his neck and at the deep inhale of his arousal Stiles shivers, feeling like the teenager he used to be five years ago. “We don't have anything”.

AH! With a dramatic flourish – probably more ridiculous than dramatic. If only that Sourwolf would stop doing what he was doing with his mouth on his ne—oh. Oh, that's nice – Stiles takes out his phone from his back pocket and slips off the case. “Speak for yourself”. The small packet of KY seems to shine in their eyes, a little lost treasure, their own small miracle. “I think I have a rubber in my wallet as well”.

“Have you always had lube inside your phone case?”, Derek asks with a shocked expression. “And do we need a condom?”.

“Don't want to leak all over my underwear. Especially not around a pack of werewolves, thank you very much”. Stiles takes out a wrapper from his wallet and hands it to Derek before he resumes touching underneath the other's shirt. “And the answer is yes. From the moment we've started dating”.

They kiss, lips open and sharing breath. “Nice to know”.

“We need to—god—”. An aimed thrust sends shivers up his legs. “Derek—we need to move”.

He gets one of his hands down, slipping in the tight fit of Derek's jeans and the hard, big cock he touches through his underwear makes him moan and spread his legs as he leans back to push his hips outward. Stiles has touched it an endless number of times yet every time seems like a new experience, a new discovery.

At Stiles' touch Derek exhales, relieved and aroused. Those lean, slender fingers massage his cock with experienced motions and the grip they use after teasing it into full firmness is heaven for Derek's spurred mind. It doesn't matter if they're in the middle of the woods with a pack of werewolves only a mile away and probably listening in, the Beta can't help but await impatiently to be inside Stiles body and thrust into that heated tightness in abandonment. Maybe there's a part of him – the wild wolf that seems to constantly seek out freedom and nature – that is turned on exactly by that fact; the possibility of being found out while collecting his prize and marking his territory, his mate in the open.

The moment their jeans are undone and their erections brush against each other, Derek grabs Stiles slim hips and turns him quickly but not violently, his cheek now resting on the roughness of the bark and ass pushed back to rub on the wolf's cock. There's only their erratic panting for what feels like ages as Derek rips the lube open and then, “God, Der—Fuck me already”.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, Stiles. Especially not out here”.

“Then shove your fingers in me!”, he cries out turning at an odd angle to plead the wolf with his eyes. “Please, I need you inside. Right now. Please”.

Derek wants that. Oh, he so wants that. And from around that pale, sinewy body he can see Stiles' red dick skim slightly against the trunk of the tree. It can't be comfortable nor pleasurable and even though Stiles seems to have other things in his mind, Derek pulls his hips back a bit more to put more space between the delicate part and the pine husk. He doesn't spend much time warming up the lube and the moment his forefinger touches the puckered hole in front of him he sees Stiles jerk up before quickly settling down again. He prepared him as swiftly and efficiently as standing in the preserve half-naked would allow, Stiles moans and whimpers accompanying each thrust of his fingers.

“Please. Please, just fuck me. Just fuck me, Der”.

Through his lust-fogged mind Stiles hears Derek opening the condom wrapper and sigh deeply as he rolls it on. He wants to reach behind him and touch his shaft, feel the girth of it and its size. Wrap his fingers around it and when noticing he can't fit it all in one hand envelope it with his other one as well. He wants to feel its thickness opening him up, make him almost worry he's gonna split in two.

The first few inches are painful, they always are: Derek might not be overworldly big but he's certainly packing down there and every time he slips inside Stiles needs to relax, bear down and bite his lip until the head is in. It's what happens now, particularly because it's not the most convenient place to have sex despite the packet of lube and the arousal he gets from being so exposed to the elements. After the head is in though...that's when Stiles can remind himself why he craved it so much in the first place. Derek is inside him balls deep and at Stiles' nod he starts to move, thrust in and out. In and out. It's slow at first, careful but they do need to be quick in this situation. The aim is a bit off, the head of the hard cock pounding him simply caresses his prostate in the most heavenly torture sending abortive shivers up from his toes, shocking through his hips and reaching the tip of his own erection like an electric shock. Each thrust, each withdrawal forces moan after moan from his mouth, noises he can't control. Mumbling reaches his ears and with a small sense of amazement he notices it's him.

It's not the best sex they've had but Jesus if it's not the hottest. Derek's hand gripping his hips in a tight hold, his puckered hole contracting around the fat shaft sliding inside and out of him in pure abandonment. Derek slides closer, t-shirt covered chest shaping around Stiles' back, and the slight change of angle causes the wolf to groan in the brunet's ear. It's a sound so primal, so inborn in Derek that Stiles needs to close his eyes not to come right in that moment.

He's so close, though. So close. After getting used to Derek being inside of him without a barrier the rubber desensitises the feeling of being fucked a bit but it's not totally unpleasant; it's smoother and easier. Stiles doesn't know if it's the build-up, the idea of being out here in the forest in broad daylight or Derek's fat, big cock beating into him but he's about to come. He spreads the legs as wide as he can manage with the jeans around his knees and he almost brings his hands back to grab his cheeks and expose himself even further. He doesn't. He needs an anchor and right now the roughness of the bark on his fingertips, under his nails is the thing that keeps him grounded.

“Oh, my God. Der—Derek. Oh, God. Fuck me. Please, fuck me”.

“I am. Shit. You're gripping me so tight”.

“What if—oh, fuck. What if they see us? What if they find us?”.

Stiles senses Derek breath itch next to his ear. “Let them. You're mine. Let them see”.

Oh. My. God. Possessiveness is certainly a kink he didn't know he had. “Say that again”.

“You're mine. Let them see, I don't care. I want them to see. I want them to see you're mine”.

Oh God. Oh God, oh Godohgodohgod.

The orgasm hits him like a blinding light. His back snaps and he arches with the force of it, his cock pulsating and trembling as his cum sprays white on the dark bark. It's seemingly artistic in an erotic way. His insides constrict around Derek and through the condom he can feel his rod vibrate as his thrust become irregular. Slower. Deeper. He misses the sensation of Derek's come hitting his walls but he guesses they still have five hours if they leave now.

“Derek—shit”, Stiles pants out after they both regain their breaths, cheek still against the tree and hips still held by Derek.

“Yeah”.

“Who would've thought? Public sex is hot”.

“What the fuck guys?!”.

They both jump at the disgusted shout from behind them, Isaac currently standing there dumbstruck, hand on his eyes. “I'm gonna need bleach”.

Yeah. Maybe not as hot around a pack of werewolves.

[sonicfanj]

Hi! I saw your response from a post related to idw! Amy from the last number of the comic. For some reason I don't feel satisfied with the way idw is handling amy and your response got my interest cause you mentioned really good points. I don't know if you want to continue to talk about the topic but if you do I would love to read more about your point of view Thanks for reading

I rant quite a bit about how IDW Amy has been handled as a good deal of it is a betrayal to her character concept which you can hear Kazuyuki Hoshino explain himself here.

https://youtu.be/0nzxRoIX4QU?t=2315

Sorry I can’t embed in an “Answer”, but the general gist of it is, Amy was created as a character who was to be the Minnie Mouse to Sonic’s Mickey Mouse, but as Sonic is not that type of character they needed to mix it up. As was very true of the early franchise where traditions were turned upside down for the time such as Tails being a nerd and athletic enough to keep up with Sonic while Amy was both a girly-girl and a tomboy at the same time, Sonic and Amy’s relationship was inverted from guy chasing after the girl to much less commonly seen girl chases after guy trope. So Amy could actually survive in a role as the love interest of the main character where she had to the chasing of a character always seeking out his next adventure and challenge she needed to have the energy, good cheer, and optimism to never give up chasing him and the willingness to partake in and love his lifestyle.

Early on you would see this in the Japanese manuals so naturally they were missed outside of Japan, but localization and not bringing content out of Japan (no less cases of Amy erasure by SEGA of America with her even having several scenes cut from the western airing of Sonic X removing a lot of her humanizing scenes showing she was a well meaning girl but acts on a foundation based on having the necessary energy to keep chasing Sonic unendingl) still did not stop that foundation from appearing in the games that brought her into the forefront of Sonic stories. The Sonic Adventure games.

Now there is a lot here that could be unpacked, but I’m going to focus on two moments.

1) At the beginning of her story Amy laments her boredom and pines for Sonic to be in her life again so she can enjoy excitement again like she did back when he was around. This out of the gate shows you that Amy detests being bored, yet IDW has her actively announce it at one point while doing Restoration paperwork, and also has Sonic have to practically drag her out on an adventure. 

So not only is she betraying her character by refusing to do what she was created to do, with even her great handling in issue 2 has her actively reject her own character function, but when she is pulled out onto an adventure what is her reward? Well of course the start of the Zombot crisis, in which she gets to see herself maim someone and then see Sonic infected with the same stuff. From there her role in the entire arc is to just be a mouthpiece for how bad the crisis is on a global scale. Yet her character foundation states this should not be the case.

At one point during the Zombat arc we see Cream after losing Cheese and Chocola have to cheer up Amy who can’t herself understand how Cream is able to smile. Yet before this point, Amy’s history has always shown her to be the one who keeps people optimistic, who doesn’t let people get down, who always has the energy and ability to believe in Sonic saving the day in the end and is able to smile because of that. So again, not only is her character down and betraying who she is supposed to be, but a character she should be cheering up is instead cheering her up. Who Amy is and the foundation for her character is completely absent, and again, Amy is sitting still instead of taking action and going out into the world and doing her best in her way. Her adventurous spirit and get out and do something attitude are completely absent.

2) Now, the other line from the Adventure games which shows a problem with Amy just growing lifeless in a dark room is from Adventure 2 where aboard the Arc she complains about how the boys always leave her behind. She’s there because she wants to be and has done everything she can throughout the game to keep up, and started by infiltrating Prison Island and acquiring a key card to Sonic’s cell. She is demonstrated to be proactive and again has a love for adventure and a desire to travel with Sonic. Yet again this is actively ignored in IDW to plug her into a role in the Zombot Arc meant for Sally Acorn during the Archie New 252 run.

Ian Flynn has on record stated that the Metal Virus Arc was originally meant for Archie starting at or a little after issue 300. It was inspired by the “Metal” skins from Sonic Heroes and would have seen the Freedom Fighters tested against the horror of the Arhieverse version of Eggman like never before. At this point though a problem becomes abundantly clear, and that’s that you have a role to fill where Sally Acorn is absent in a more gamecentric setting. How Amy ended up in the roll is in part due to Ian Flynn typically righting characters and only really being able to use Amy, though he has admitted it’s not a role he believes she should have. Yet SEGA OKed it and for the Zombot Arc Amy has had to become Sally Acorn. Instead of being the cheerful girl who chases after Sonic and does her best to keep up with and help Sonic she has become the girl in charge he checks in on. Instead of being out in the field leading through motivation, encouragement, and example, she has become a war room tactician. These roles all fit Sally to a tee and she is a character designed to be able to serve the purposes of those roles and thrive in them. It is what she was made to do after all; lead a desperate group of mismatched people through an impossible situation. That is her core role and part of why she doesn’t work for the games where the narrative is simply where is Sonic now and what is he getting involved in. But for the Zombot Arc she was perfect, yet Archie’s bunglings put an end to that and to force his story into only the second story arc of a new comic before the characters had room to grow and become established with distinct identities in IDW, he took Amy and shoved her into Sally’s skin in what is one of the worst ill fitting results I’ve ever seen. She is at almost no point in the arc given even a single moment that speaks from the foundation of her character as she can’t for the sake of he plot. The plot needed Sally Acorn, but Amy was the only one available to fill the role, and as is typical when Sally is needed, Amy gets mistreated, misused, and winds up getting nothing in the end except more comfortless stress and worries with none of her actual character there to show she can actually smile through it all.

The funny thing is though, Amy’s actual character makes it into the Zombot Arc. It’s one of the best written scenes in the whole arc and occurs at a point when Sonic really needs that traditional Amy spunk to put the spring back in his step. In fact, the way the whole scene is written it is likely had the story been told in Archie it would have been the moment when Amy fell to the Metal Virus. And I would not have been mad in the least. In fact, I would have been eagerly anticipating Sonic’s eventual victory to see her faith rewarded and her sacrifice rewarded. Unfortunately though the scene was handed off to someone else, and I have had a hard time appreciating the character since as a result.

You see, in IDW there is a very energetic character who shares most of Amy’s core traits. Energetic, optimistic, and almost always full of good cheer. Where they differ is in their secondary traits, or more accurately the traits they don’t share with Amy. Being romantic, in love with Sonic, childish, occasionally bratty, and very old-fashioned girly. Those five secondary traits are completely absent from this character, and as a result, anytime they do something Amy would based on the otherwise same foundation they get praised where Amy would have been derided simply for being Amy. But the peak of it is again a moment that felt 100% like it was meant for Amy but as she was assigned to be Sally couldn’t have it. And yet, no one seems to notice, but rather cheers the entire scenario because Sonic needed that hug and physical contact. He needed those words of a faith that is placed solely in him. He needed to see that ability to smile and stay optimistic even when infected, and keep giving their all with boundless energy, good cheer and optimism. He needed Amy Rosy, Rosy the Rascal, the pink hedgehog girl who has followed him as best she can since Sonic CD. But instead, Amy’s very foundation and role was cheered not when carried out by Amy, but instead when carried out by relative new comer with none of the history or even reason to have faith in Sonic like he needed in that scene, Tangle the Lemur. And the scene was cheered even more due to the love that Whisper the Wolf has as her despair at losing the first friend she allowed herself to have since she lost everything just drove it completely home for everyone. And don’t get me wrong, the issue was brilliant written. Just enough was done to make sure you knew it was Tangle and not Amy at a casual glance. But I don’t look at scenes that scream Amy at me from the start casually. Her and Sonic are easily my favorite characters, so when I see her role being played by someone else you can bet I notice. And Tangle played it brilliantly.

But what did Amy get as a reward for playing Sally’s role in this issue? What else? She had to play the role of the incompetent villain. They barely saved anyone. Another town was lost on her watch. She had hold Whisper back from going out to try in vain to save Tangle. It would have been quite engaging to see Sally challenged as a leader of people and crisis manager as she specializes in it and this arc would have been great to see her character deconstructed and see what really makes her work. Instead, Amy was given her role when she has no business having it, and is shown to be completely worthless after a scene that reads like it was handcrafted for was played out by another character. And of course, that other character when finally cured even gets another huge hug, while Amy is left watching the skies to despair.

It’s hard to see Amy as being treated well by IDW when you really break it down, but because she has been stripped of her character and generally sidelined, her detractors are pleased and as new fans don’t know any better they can’t see what is wrong no less call it out. She played her role in the plot as written so time to move on. She doesn’t matter beyond that, though fans of Amy Acorn/Sally Rose have surely been born as a result, and as an actual Amy Rose/Rosy the Rascal fan that hurts as one of my favorite characters will continue to be slowly killed off as her heart and sole is siphoned out of her and only a shallow doppelganger is left in her place.

Thanks for the Ask anon. I hope that rant and breakdown wasn’t too long or cynical, and that it clearly illustrates why at least I’m not happy with IDW Amy. Maybe even it will help you reflect and see why you aren’t satisfied with her either.

Of course though I rant quite a bit about the franchise in general and have a whole list of other rants of mine you can track down by dropping ‘rant’ into my blog’s search bar. Though that won’t connect you to these four from twitter (though one is kind of segmented)

https://twitter.com/kokoloko45/status/1284905784531398661 (Quite a bit of ranting in here though you have to fish around through the replies to find it)

https://twitter.com/JoshTarwater/status/1283088147576795137 (this one I go off quite a bit about the depreciating meta narrative of the IP)

https://twitter.com/JoshTarwater/status/1254439910422925312 (And this one I go into where I see Amy’s character as mishandled and the necessary steps as I see it to put her back on track)

Thank you again anon, it was a pleasure to answer, even if it did get me riled up again XD 

[in-tua-deep]

i need you to know that every once in a while i go back and read your whole responsible luther au from start to finish and like.... i would legit read 100k of that and still want more, i LOVE that entire concept to PIECES and just kdjdjfhfl thank you for elaborating on that plot so much

adsfdDFSGHF i’m v flattered i will admit I myself didn’t expect to become as fond as I have with that particular au lmao i think it’s a combo of the way luther in that au is generally unflappable and “same shit as always” and the family actually getting together and being an actual family

Not even the big family stuff either just the dumb little interactions

(posts for this au here: one, two, three, four, five, six)

Like Luther comes home from work, exhausted, walks in and the first thing he sees as he walks in is Diego standing at the open fridge drinking straight from the milk carton.

“Diego.” Luther states, halfway incredulous because come on, “Do I live in a frat house? There’s glasses in the cabinet to your right and I know you know that.”

“What do you know about frat houses?” Diego sneers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Not like any of us went to college, ‘les they give out degrees in sucking up.”

Luther presses his hands together and touches them to his mouth for a second of patience. “Diego,” He starts over, “What are you doing here?”

“Babysitting.” Diego shrugs, placing the milk back in the fridge and closing the door. Luther makes a mental note to buy more if only so that he doesn’t have to share in Diego’s gross mouth germs.

He can’t contain it. “For fu - is this what you do at home Diego? Do you even own glasses?”

Diego shrugs again, not even disguising the grin across his face. He likes pushing Luther’s buttons, like the absolute dick he is. “Just saving you on some washing up, Luth.” Diego informs him cheerfully, moving to pass him and clapping him on the shoulder in faux friendliness. 

Luther is about to make an very inadvisable movement (that movement being grabbing Diego and tossing him across the room and maybe pouring out the rest of the milk on top of his smug little - ) when Five pops into the room in a flash of blue.

“Luther!” Luther’s favorite brother greets him enthusiastically as Klaus stumbles out of his bedroom, brandishing a bottle of nail polish like a weapon. Judging from Five’s half-done fingers, it’s clear what they were up to. Luther has a feeling he’s going to end up with nail polish on his coat in a hot second.

It’s more of a surprise when Vanya walks out of the room as well, sporting electric blue painted nails and looking mildly uncomfortable. Of course, mildly uncomfortable is pretty much Vanya’s default state so Luther doesn’t think anything of it.

“Hello Five, hello Klaus.” Luther greets his roommates, smile plastered on his face, “Hello people who do not live here.”

“You need to get more eggs.” Diego tells him, not even looking abashed at Luther’s implied reprimand. Which, considering Diego procured a key weeks ago (which Luther did not give him) might be a little fair. It’s not like Diego isn’t invited maybe 25% of the time.

“Klaus called.” Vanya admits, “He said Diego was being boring and I needed to come over before someone was murdered. Probably Klaus, if we’re being honest.”

“Hey!” Klaus protests automatically, before tilting his head to acknowledge the point.

“Luther!” Five tugs at Luther’s coat insistently as he’s been doing pretty much since they walked out of the bedroom.

Well, time to pay attention to the little monster. Luther reaches down and swings his littlest brother up into his arms, earning a shriek even though it’s a familiar move at this point. 

“Ooh! Me too, me too!” Klaus crowds closer, making grabby hands. Luther sighs deeply but obliges, swinging Klaus up and over his shoulder easily and earning another delighted shriek. Luther wonders what it would be like without his super strength. Wonders how the rest of the world manages.

He ignores Diego’s look as he makes his way over to the couch, swaying both his brothers from side to side as they try and grab at one another. It’s a little bit like trying to balance a very tall stack of books with a wine glass on top - difficult but not exactly impossible. They certainly don’t try make it easier on him.

Having had enough, Luther calmly dumps both of them onto the couch. 

Vanya strolls over and plucks the bottle of nail polish out of Klaus’s hands, circling the couch and nudging him over so she can sit by Five where she wordlessly unscrews the cap and reaches out a hand for Five to put his into. Apparently it’s nail painting time again.

“What did you want, Five?” Luther asks, amused as he collapses into the big thrift store armchair with a quiet oof. 

“What’s for dinner?” Five asks, rolling his eyes.

Diego groans, “Ugh, that’s all he’s been asking for like, an hour.”

“I’m a growing boy!” Five protests, jerking his hands and earning himself a scolding shush from Vanya as the nail polish smears. She uses the corner of one of her own nails to clean it up a little. 

“Growing sideways,” Diego teases, reaching a hand out to ruffle Five’s hair. Unfortunately, it seems Five anticipated the move and Diego narrowly avoids the snap of Five’s teeth and the resulting shit eating grin.

“Luther!” Diego sounds scandalized, gesturing at their grinning brother as Klaus laughs quietly to himself.

“Children, behave.” Luther deadpans. 

“That’s what they say when we’re together!” Klaus immediately sings at the top of his lungs, making Vanya wince away and give him a look. Klaus shrugs unapologetically and she rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to her task.

“We should liberate Luther’s records from the house.” Five says, looking thoughtful.

“No one’s going to the house.” Luther vetoes, again. It’s like Five is just looking for excuses these days to suggest exploring the house for things.

“Maybe when Dad’s dead.” Diego says, finally coming around the sofa to sit in the last remaining armchair. Luther winces and doesn’t respond. As much as he doesn’t see eye to eye with Reginald these days - there’s still a part of him that loves the old man, even if therapy is making him see more and more that the feeling wasn’t exactly returned.

“God,” Klaus sighs, throwing his head back dramatically, “If you had my powers you wouldn’t be wishing for the old man’s death, ugh.”

The family shares a collective wince as they remember that for Klaus, harassment from their father wasn’t exactly something that stopped with his death.

“Aw, don’t look so glum! Ben here has promised to be my guard chihuahua.” Klaus informs them all cheerfully after noticing the long faces. He turns his face to the side, where it’s probably Ben exists. “What? Chihuahuas have a great and noble history! You should be flattered! What? Wait, Ben, no - ”

The rest of the family decides to move on as Klaus devolves into a whispered half-conversation with their dearly departed sibling. It drives them all crazy that they can’t hear one half of the conversation.

“You never said what’s for dinner.” Five points out, just a little petulantly. Vanya gives him a gentle nudge as reprimand for moving too much, but she’s finishing up with the last nail anyway so it’s not terribly important. 

Luther really doesn’t feel like cooking. Mainly because he’s really bad at it. He looks over at Vanya, who is the only person who has been keeping them all from eating like freshman college students and getting scurvy, but she’s studiously examining her job on Five’s nails. Clearly she doesn’t exactly feel like cooking, either.

“Chinese?” Luther offers, hopeful. 

Five pulls a face, but Klaus brightens up, head snapping around from his little argument. Luther’s hope dies in his chest. Feeding their whole family is an adventure in juggling - how their Mom fed them all for so many years without snapping in half from bending over backwards to please everyone.

Then again, it’s not like any of them had the choice to refuse their food in their father’s house no matter personal preference. It was wolf it down regardless of taste or starve and potentially faint during training.

But there is one thing they can all agree on. t’s just a last resort because Luther is so very tired of having it every other night but hey, when needs must, right?

“Pizza?” Luther offers and everyone sort of nods and hums their agreement at that. Luther knows all of their orders by heart at this point. Even Diego “my body is a temple” Hargreeves doesn’t say no to pizza, usually. 

“You know, we could make it slightly healthier and make our own?” Vanya points out, but it’s only halfhearted. “I heard you can make the crust with cauliflower or something.”

“You think we have cauliflower in this house?” Five asks with an arched eyebrow, and Vanya concedes the point. Luther feels almost offended at the implications about the state of health food in his place, but it’s also a fair point so. No like he can rebuff it. 

“Pizza it is.” Luther states firmly before this can devolve into an actual debate on the state of their dinner. 

He gets up to go grab his phone and can hear the sound of a fight breaking out behind him, Klaus’s voice being the loudest. Luther had so hoped Vanya sitting there would have prevented the inevitable but she was in on the shenanigans far more often than Luther would have expected.

(Sometimes he wondered what their childhoods would have looked like if Vanya had been more included. He had suspicions that she would have never been on his side in an argument, anyway.)

Luther shakes his head as he punches in the number for the pizza place. For a few minutes that mess in the living room is not his problem.

Of course, a few minutes of peace never lasts for very long. Not in this family.

[crowkingwrites]

Something Awful

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader // Words: 4697 // Ao3 Link // Masterlist

Author’s Notes: SO THIS HAS TO BE THE LONGEST ONE SHOT I EVER WROTE and it really got away from me lol. 

I actually have an entire series that is based on this request? For those of you who know Vicious, it’s similar to this request. (You can start reading it here.) However! This one-shot is going to take a very different turn. Enjoy!

You felt your heart breaking when you met Talisa. The muscles in your chest pulled apart string by string which made it all feel so much better to see her pregnant body on the ground bleeding. The last thing you saw inside the Twins was Robb crawling to the girl he loved more. Robb deserved his fate, you thought.

Roose Bolton took you away from the whole thing. You were never meant to be at the Red Wedding, so when Roose saw your face he secretly told his men t not touch you. You were grateful to him while you both rode towards Winterfell.

“I am sorry to have put you through that. You were supposed to be with—

“I know,” you told Roose. You looked down and away from Roose. He bluntly gave you a reminder.

“You would never have been happy with the Young Wolf. He loved someone else much more than you. He already had his family planned with her. You deserve someone with much more loyalty and respect. Don’t cry over a dead man who would have been happy to see you gone.”

Lord Roose Bolton was right. As much as you wanted to follow his advice, it was difficult to harden your heart. Your brown eyes and black hair gave away that you were truly your father’s daughter. Robert told you stories of Lyanna Stark, and it reminded you of how you spoke of Robb Stark.

You desired Robb more than anything. You remembered Sansa’s smile and how her eyes were filled with delight in wanting your brother. You supposed both of you felt differently now. You knew your mother to be a hateful woman towards everyone else except for you and your siblings. You never thought she would go as far as to destroy houses and families to not have you marry a Stark.

Winterfell was in ruins when you arrived. The direwolves were all smashed in. The Stark banners shared a similar fate as Robb; in the ground, covered in shame and almost forgotten. Roose had shared news of your safety with your mother, but you decided to stay north. You weren’t ready to go back home yet.

You didn’t want to face your hateful mother who took Robb away from you. You couldn’t possibly face Sansa who was to be your sister. You figured that what you had with her was now gone. You wouldn’t be surprised if she wished you dead.

You mostly kept to yourself at Winterfell for the first week. Most servants cursed you, and other Northerners had plans to hurt you. Roose had noted that and called you to a meeting to discuss your security here at Winterfell. With power and money and a new lordship in his pocket, Roose had set his sights on a new goal: the Iron Throne.

Keeping you, the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, safe and sound and happy in his home was in his best interest.

“I’m sure you are aware of the several people who have made threats to you,” Roose explained in front of his other men and you. You sat with your hands folded at a table of men who have betrayed House Stark. A fire crackled behind you.

“I’m aware. I believe my last chambermaid tried to poison me,” you confessed. “It may be time for to return home.”

“I would advise you against that,” Roose said. A map of Westeros sat in front of you. Roose pointed towards the Twins. “The knights of the Vale have boldly positioned themselves near the Twins. It wouldn’t be safe for you to return now with the Riverlands and the North this tense. If I can guarantee your safety here, would you like to stay longer?”

“Guarantee my safety? How?” you laughed at the Lord. It was impossible. You were a lion alone with direwolves and those loyal to them. Even if you attempted to go outside the walls of Winterfell, you were scared of any man or woman who saw your birthmark. Well, at least that’s what Cersei told you.

A large burn mark on your face reminded you how awful your father was. King Robert, the one who liberated the Seven Kingdoms, put your face near a fire as a babe because you were a girl. Cersei couldn’t face him much after that. How could a King hurt his daughter like that? What kind of man was that? Still, no one could know that the King hurt his daughter. Not after he took the throne from the Mad King.

The burn mark went from the corner of your mouth and stretched itself across your left cheek. Joffery always teased you about it. He claimed you and the Hound would make a lovely couple together. He also claimed you would never find any real love unless it was inside a brothel. Of course, you never really searched for any kind of love. You always thought Robb Stark would be your husband.

That is, until you saw Talisa.

Until you saw the way Robb looked at her.

Until you saw Robb crawling on the floor towards her, reaching her. Even in death, he still did not want you.

You could mourn over dead men and their dead lovers or you study at the young man in front of you. He had dark curls, hungry eyes, and a mouth that smiled at you like you were made of gold. His hands were folded in front of him. His emblem was the Bolton cross. Not one thing about him looked off to you.

“This is my bastard son,” Roose introduced you. “Ramsay took Winterfell from the Greyjoys and saw that their rebellion was paid their own blood. I trust him to protect you at all costs.” Ramsay took your hand and kissed the top of it. His hand pulled you up to his level.

“I never thought I would ever protect a future queen, much less meet one,” Ramsay told you. You felt color rush to your cheeks and you couldn’t meet his eyes much longer. Not many men gave you affectionate attention. Cersei would never leave you with a man alone for long, so you didn’t have much experience.

Now, you were going to spend a lot of time with a bastard named Ramsay.

--- 

“Who is your mother?” you asked the bastard one day. He sat next to you eating another apple. He used his flaying knife to cut off bit by bit.

“She was a miller’s wife.”

“Did your father—

“No,” Ramsay cut you off. “He didn’t love her. He had his way with her while her new husband hung above them. Did you parents love each other?”

“No, they did not. I hoped things were different up here,” you confessed to him. “According to you, things are more of the same. Maybe worse.”

“Worse? I am to be Lord and Warden of the North one day. You are to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I don’t see much drawback from this.” A guard came into the room before you could go further in the conversation.

“We found another one,” he said. “Caught ‘im trying to send a letter out.”

“Well, what does the letter say?” Ramsay narrowed his eyes.

“Says where she sleeps. How to get past the guards.” Ramsay stopped the guard with his hand. He heard enough. He left his spot next to you by the fire.

“Milady, I expect this threat will take some time to take care of. I’m afraid I won’t see you until tomorrow.” You cocked and eyebrow. “Why does it matter if I won’t see you until tomorrow?”

Ramsay started to close the door behind him. “I was starting to like you. Don’t ruin it with silly questions.”

---

Ramsay had slain anyone who plotted to hurt you. He had displayed their skins and corpses and parts in the courtyard of Winterfell to remind everyone who House Bolton should be loyal to. Ramsay stood next to you spinning a yarn about the unfortunate soul in front of you. You felt something turning in your stomach.

It could the gruesome sight in front of you. The young woman’s toes were caked in her own blood. Her mouth was agape, and you could see bugs enter and exit her mouth. As if the small critters used her body for warmth and food.

Or it could be Ramsay. As handsome as he was, he was also terribly something awful. His smile when describing how she held strong until the end. He loved what he did to people. He was good at it. Still, something turned your stomach.

“Milady!” The maester came rushing to you. “There’s something you need to see.” His frown and worry concerned you. You followed the maester with Ramsay right behind you. Ramsay followed you wherever you went not because he felt obligated to, but he enjoyed your companionship.

Every morning, you helped take the hounds out for walks. Ramsay and you would share meals together. More recently, your new favorite hobby was mending Ramsay’s clothes. He liked the flaying man you embroidered for him.

The maester handed you the letter from King’s Landing. It was written in your mother’s hand. You read the words, but you couldn’t register them. It wasn’t real. You felt too much all at once. You did the improper thing and started to cry and curse out loud.

“Fuck! Fuck! No, this isn’t—I—No! Fuck this!”

“What? What is it?” Ramsay grabbed the letter from you. He read the words. “Your brother was poisoned by his enemies. The King is dead. Come home.”

---

You sat in your room alone. It had been a week since your King Brother was laid to rest in the Sept. Myrcella was in Dorne. You were in the North. Your youngest brother held the crown now. You knew gentle, loving Tommen. His grave was already dug. You needed to go home.

You spun a yarn in between your fingers, trying to focus on something, anything. The world around you became a blur of noise and shapes. You didn’t understand how this happened. All you knew was you wanted to destroy who did this to your family. Who put Myrcella in Dorne? Who married Sansa? Who wanted your brother dead? “You need to eat,” you heard behind you.

“I’m not hungry,” you answered back watching Ramsay roll his eyes. He pulled up a chair next to you.

“You mourn them too much,” Ramsay picked at the bread on your tray. “You want to cry and cry and cry. Go on. The world won’t stop for you.”

“That’s mean. My brother just died.”

“And you’re going to sit here and cry about it?”

“What else can I do?” you cried out in frustration. Ramsay laughed at you.

“You are the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and you believe there’s nothing you can do?” Ramsay shook his head at you. “Do I what I would do.”

“I don’t torture people.”

“No, but you can end them. You could end them all,” Ramsay put the idea in your head. “You told me your uncle did it. So, let’s kill him.”

“He’s being put to trial first. We have processes. It’s only fair.”

“Fair? You want to be fair with a man who has hurt your family more than once? Tyrion has been a stain in your family line since the day he crawled out of your grandmother’s stomach. You know that.”

“With what resources then? I don’t have spies to do this work for me. I know no assassins. My family is a month’s ride away from me. Do you expect me to kill my uncle myself?”

Ramsay shook his head and left the comfort of his seat. He offered you his hand and guided you to a window.

“Look outside. What do you see?”

You did not like this game. You sighed and played along for him. “Snow. Land. Peasants.”

“The North,” Ramsay corrected you. “Five hundred miles that way, you’re still in the North. Another four hundred miles another way and you’re still in the North.”

“Your point?”

“This all belongs to me, but mostly it belongs to you, would you agree?” Ramsay placed his hands on your arms. They slid up to your shoulders.

“I agree. I still don’t see your point.”

“My father has proved his loyalty to your grandfather with what he accomplished at the Red Wedding. Tywin and Joffery made him a lord. Because of your grandfather, I have power, money, and land. I wonder, if I kill your enemies and hurt those who have hurt you, what will you make me?” Ramsay whispered the words into your ear.

You didn’t need spies. You didn’t need the same resources they had in King’s Landing. You had Ramsay Bolton, the flaying bastard.

---

Ramsay and you arrived in King’s Landing in complete secret. Ramsay didn’t bring an army with him, only twenty good men. You roamed the empty, abandoned brothels that Petyr Baelish left behind. You heard Ramsay exchange words with one of your mother’s spies. He left in haste, leaving you and Ramsay alone.

“Your mother knows you’re here. Along with someone named the Spider?” Ramsay asked, pulling at his shirt. You studied the young man. You noted the sweat on his brow.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying the warmer weather,” you smiled.

“I hate it. Why is it so hot? Isn’t it supposed to be nearing winter? This is ridiculous.” He looked around in disgust. His face made you giggle. Ramsay shot a look at you. “What?”

“You’re so miserable about the weather. It’s funny.” You smiled at him. You watched color rush to his face.

“I’m not funny.” He responded, turning away from you. You grabbed his arm and rested your head on his shoulder. Ramsay often let you do this, but you were never sure why. You’ve known Ramsay to have his girls. He slept with some on the way here, yet all of them had dark, long hair like yours. No, you were being silly. You were awful to look at. Your burn mark made sure of that.

Still, the tension between you was noted whenever a man looked at you wrong or when your fingers touched his sleeve. You wanted to say something was there. You wanted to ask, but your brother’s cruel words echoed in your mind.

“No one could ever stomach to look at that face every morning. The only love you’ll ever find will be in a dark brothel.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intent. I was only teasing,” you said quietly between both of you. Ramsay placed a soft kiss on your head.

“I know, sweetling. We have to leave here. I don’t think your mother would want to find her daughter in a brothel with a bastard.”

---

Tywin welcomed you back to King’s Landing with open arms. He was more than delighted to see one of his granddaughters. You would claim your grandfather to dote on you, but he was a disciplined, conservative man. He noted how close Ramsay Bolton and you became.

“What happened in the North?” Tywin asked you.

“What do you mean?” you sat drinking wine with your grandfather. You finally wore your favorite summer dresses. It was a purple dress embellished with gold details. Golden flowers, golden stags, golden lions all delicately decorated your new gown. It felt light and pretty, nothing like the heavy layers you had to wear in the North.

“You experienced what happened at the Twins and you chose to stay in the North, why?” Tywin always questioned you like was trying to teach you another lesson.

“I was promised over and over to a young wolf. In one night, he was taken away from me by my family. The same family who told me I would be marrying him. Don’t you think a little distrust would form after that?”

“You don’t trust your family?”

“I needed time. The Boltons have been incredible hosts to me, and they reminded me why the Starks are traitors.”

“Roose Bolton reminded you? Or did his son remind you?”

“If you’re implying something, I suggest you get to the point,” you said in a cross manner. Tywin blinked and smiled.

“If you were a boy, you would have made a better king than your brother.”

“And I can’t be a queen? I’m in line for throne. Remember?” you said to Tywin. Tywin cleared his throat. His eyes followed a figure that entered the room. The first thing you saw were the rich red sleeves and collar. You suspected they hid armor underneath. The next thing you saw was a black tunic with the flaying man sewn into the fabric. A black belt held it together along with his sword and two daggers.

“Am I interrupting?” Ramsay spoke to Tywin. Tywin shook his head.

“Not at all. Is the South treating you better?”

Ramsay narrowed his eyes. “Why do all of you waste time with your small talk?” You quickly stood up from your seat and walked over to Ramsay.

“Forgive him, grandfather,” you smiled. “He wasn’t raised in castles like you and me. He doesn’t know how to be a lord.”

“Because he’s a legitimized bastard. There seems to be a lot of you in the North.” Ramsay’s hand went to his dagger, but you held onto his hand. You guided him away from murdering Tywin and towards the gardens.

“Do not anger my grandfather unless you wish to die,” you warned him.

“Tywin is as weak as his age. I doubt he could hurt me. Tyrion is in the dungeons. I plan to kill him tonight,” Ramsay said.

“Tonight? So soon? Don’t you think we need to wait and pla—

“There’s already a plan. I told you, I only need twenty good men. Do you want your uncle Tyrion to face justice or do you want him to escape?”

“Escape? What are yo—

“Your mother told me her whispers. The Spider has plans to help Tyrion escape justice tonight.”

“No, Tyrion will be put to the sword. There was a trial by combat. He dies tomorrow.” You assured him.

“No, he dies tonight. If you don’t let me do things my way, that throne will never belong to you.” Ramsay pulled you away from the public eye of the gardens. Behind tall bushes, Ramsay grabbed your hand again. “Must I remind you why I followed you here?”

“For the throne? You want power.” You said.

“As true as that sounds, I’m not an idiot. I was never raised in a castle. You were.”

‘Is this another game?” you asked. Ramsay pulled you closer to him.

“No, this is a reminder,” Ramsay brushed away the hair in front of your burn mark. He place his lips on yours and sent you into a trance. You didn’t realize your first kiss would be so wonderful. Ramsay wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss. You broke it apart when you felt dizzy in his arms.

“Ram—

“I never thought I would care for a southern girl, yet here I am. Our place is here. I’ll kill every single one of your family that betrays us to get you on that throne.” Ramsay kissed you once more. Leaving you almost breathless and filled with silly thoughts again.

Late in the night, you heard the bells go off. Those were alarm bells. You rushed to your door and locked it. It wasn’t much, but you had hoped you would be safe there. You waited and waited until you heard three sharp knocks.

Ramsay.

You opened the door slightly to see the roughed up young lord with a monstrous smile on his face. Five of his men were behind him now. Each of them were a bit bloodied up, but Ramsay had a lovely sword cut on his face. The blood dripped down his cheek.

“My lady, I have some wonderful news to share.”

---

Ramsay and his men had slaughtered Tyrion who attempted to escape his fate. Tyrion’s mistake was murdering his own whore lover and Tywin. Ramsay was revered as a hero by your younger brother, King Tommen. Ramsay stood before his king, smiling as Tommen stroked his ego.

“You have done Westeros a favor. You and your family have served the realm well. Whatever you ask that is in my power, it is yours,” Tommen smiled to Ramsay. Nearly everyone inside the court that day wore black. Ramsay’s black outfit was outfitted with gold and red details. Your family’s colors and his.

“You honor me, my King. I come to you as a young lord. I come to you humble and grateful, but if I were to ask for one thing,” Ramsay glanced at you for a moment and then met the King’s eyes. “I would ask you for your sister’s hand. I’ve grown quite fond of her. I’d like to make her mine.”

You smiled from ear to ear. You guessed your late brother was right. You did find love in a brothel.

---

While Tommen tried to be a pure king, you had already consummated with Ramsay several times before your own wedding night. Ramsay’s favorite part of you was your neck and your chest. He left his own marks all over you, so that your mother would know that you belonged to him now.

“You’re covering them up, aren’t you?” Cersei said. “His little love marks.”

“How did you kn—

“Have you forgotten that I know everything?” Cersei smiled at you. You’ve always felt your mother’s warmth. That never changed. She pushed your hair back to see both your burn mark and the marks Ramsay left on you. “I was once your age too. I hid mine better. Try wearing your hair down more.”

“You’re not angry with me?” you asked her.

“No,” Cersei took your hand and lead you with it. The day had begun to cool. You kept your mother close to you. She continued. “I’m not angry with you. I want you to be happy. Are you happy with him?”

“Yes,” you confessed. “I am. He makes me happy.”

“Good,” Cersei held you close. “But the minute he doesn’t make you happy anymore, tell me. And he will be ashes before you could shed a tear. Do you understand?” As you nodded towards your mother, a guard burst into your private moment. The Mountain glared at him with his bright red eyes.

“My queen, my lady,” the guard greeted. “The Sparrows have invaded the Red Keep. We need to get you to safety now.” Locked away in Cersei’s room, both you and she were protected by the Mountain. You heard yelling and fighting on the other side of Cersei’s door. You sucked in all of your breath and held onto her before you heard a familiar voice enter the room.

“Those religious fuckers,” Ramsay laughed. You eyed his armored body and cut arms. “Does your son take criticism? Or do I need to convince him how bad this is?”

---

You did not need to convince Tommen. He stood there raging, fuming mad at the poor figure of his mother. How little she was. How hurt she was. Tommen no longer hid, he roared.

You see, you only knew Joffery and yourself to have a temper. Myrcella and Tommen both were entirely too gentle to hurt anyone or anything. When Tommen saw the condition of Cersei when she returned from her walk of shame, he looked at your betrothed, Ramsay Bolton, and spoke to him.

“How many men do you need? How many to take down the Sparrows?”

You wished your king’s rage continued. You hoped Tommen would see how terrible the Sparrows were. Once you saw both Queen Margaery and King Tommen join hands with the High Sparrow, you knew it was over.

---

You clearly remembered that morning. You wore all black just like your mother and your betrothed. Chains hung from Ramsay’s chest and arms. A brand new, obsidian sword was his to touch. You wore your hair down, not to hide Ramsay’s love marks, but to hide the bruise on your neck. Something you earned last night when you challenged your lover to hurt you.

Ramsay’s fingers brushed against yours. You both quietly held hands and watched the sept. Everything had been so quiet. You didn’t realize how quiet King’s Landing could be until you heard the explosion. A bright green colored your vision as smoke filled the air. It was astonishing and awful. Your mother had managed to defeat both threats at once. The Sparrows and Tyrell House were gone.

Ramsay wore the biggest smile on his face. He looked on the spectacle in awe. If your mother could do that, what kind of damage could you do? He started to get ideas in his head. How could he get away with killing the king? How far would he go to put you on the throne? How far could he go to put himself there?

Being a king meant that you had access to power like this. You could do whatever you wanted. Ramsay found himself daydreaming of both of you on the throne. He sat on the iron throne while you stood by, holding a small bundle. Now, he wanted it. He was so close.

Ramsay didn’t realize how easy it was.

You were frozen to the spot when Qyburn came to tell you the news. Cersei had followed Qyburn to his lab while you stood there trying to digest what you had heard.

“Tommen killed himself.” You said quietly. “After everything my family has been through. Joffery was murdered at his wedding. Myrcella was cold before she touched land again, and now Tommen kills himself?” You felt the anger warp you into something awful.

“Y/N. Sweetling,” Ramsay called out to you. He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Focus.”

“My family is dying around me,” the words came out cold. They cut Ramsay’s face and he delivered the same cold truth to you.

“I told you. You spend too much time mourning the dead. Do you realize who you are now? Who we are? What power we have together?” Ramsay kissed you and you felt the world melt away again. Before you could deepen the kiss, he broke apart from you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Ramsay held your face in his hands.

“Nothing,” he shook his head. For the first time, you saw his genuine happiness. His face softened and gazed down at you with something more than what your mother gave you. His fingers combed through your hair. He saw nothing else in the world but you. “This world is ours. Yours and mine.”

---

Your coronation was held only hours after the incident. Ramsay watched you walk in complete awe. You had never looked more beautiful in your life. A crown of stag antlers was placed on your head. The Seven Kingdoms was now yours to have and control. You looked sad for the occasion, but when you were alone with the man who helped put you there you smiled.

“My king,” you teased him. Ramsay kissed you deeply once more.

“My queen,” he tenderly said back. The pair of you walked together to a small council meeting to discuss immediate issues. The Sept needed to be handled. Your brother’s funeral was to be planned. The people of the city needed to be addressed.

When Ramsay’s lips touched yours in front of the people of Westeros, he became King Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Both of you had everything you ever wanted now. A crown adorned his head like a halo. Ramsay felt like a god among his new subjects.

While you rested inside taking in the new feeling of being so very much loved, Ramsay pulled Varys and Littlefinger aside. The small council chambers were empty with the exception of the three men. Everyone enjoyed the wedding estivates outside. Ramsay twirled his flaying knife between his fingers.

“Varys, Littlefinger,” King Ramsay began. “Tell me about this girl and her dragons across the sea.”

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[captainderyn]

Tacka: An Intro (finally)

EDIT: THIS IS OUTDATED. EXPECT AN EDITED ONE AT SOME POINT. So awhile ago @therron-shan​ made a super awesome google sheet of character questions that I’ve wanted to do forever and I’ve finally done them! For Tacka boy, because I’ve never formally introduced him. 

Under a cut after the first bit because I went a little crazy.

Tacka (An Introduction)

Preliminary Info:

Name: Tacka Sutae

Nicknames: --

Alias(es): ---

Age: 19/20 depending

Born:  Whatever 3 years before 0ATC, is that 3BTC?

Gender: Male

Species: Mirialan

Affiliations:

Republic, Jedi Order, Corellian Resistance

Occupation:

He was a Jedi padawan, now he’s basically a rogue peacekeeper. Using his force sensitivity to help who he can, how he can.

Physical:

General Description:

Tacka is first and foremost intense. It doesn’t always show, but if you catch him in the right moment he watches everything around with with a burning intensity that’s near impossible to escape. Catch him when he’s angry--especially if it’s when someone or himself is threatened he’s almost feral. He’ll bare his teeth, his eyes will burn into you. But otherwise, he seems lonely, and young. Like he’s seen too much. Physically he’s unassuming, a tall kid, built like a runner. You wouldn’t think much of him unless you really paused to look.

Height: 5’ 9”

Weight: Somewhere around 168lbs? Not really sure. He was pretty scrawny in his young padawan days but now he’s built up some muscle and is a bit bigger than he was.

Hair: Dark brown hair kept in an undercut, kept long/floofy on the top.

Eyes: You can sit for hours and try to figure out if they’re gold or amber but you won’t be able to. They’re intense, and very expressive. You can read him like an open book in a single glance if he’s not careful.

Skin/Fur: He’s green. Hella green. No, he’s got olive-y/dark green skin that for the most part is pretty even (or as even as a teenager/young adults skin can be let’s be honest here)

Scars/Birthmarks/Etc.: He has a few little scars across his arms, knees, shoulders, ect from training incidents but no big ones. Hopefully it stays that way.

Tattoos/Markings: He has his miralan tattoos. On his face it’s a thick line across his nose horizontally with four alternating up facing/down facing triangles over the line, four pieces/squares making a diamond on his forehead, and a line from his lower lip to his chin with two lines extending diagonally from it on either side of his chin.

Cybernetics: ---

Handedness:

Tacka is right handed, though he’s not horribly inept at using his left hand for tasks as well.

Style:

He always kind of mimics his Jedi garb subconsciously tbh. His favored outfit of sorts is a black long sleeved shirt, a grey, thick fabric...wrap poncho thing. I don’t know guys it’s weird, it’s like a shirt that wraps but it doesn’t have sleeves and black pants, black boots. He kind of dresses like a hobo sith, damnit Tacka no wonder the Jedi didn’t take you back.

Other:

He walks like he’s trying not to draw attention to himself. Head down, hands in pockets. But he’s always listening, always watching in the force because he’s suspicious. Long strides, he gets where he needs to go, doesn’t linger, doesn’t pause, he might as well be a shadow.

Mental/Emotional:

Background/Backstory:

Tacka was taken from the Jedi as a very young child. Not by his parents consent, but because the Jedi needed Force sensitives and his family unfortunately had old ties to the Order from his father. They were on Alderaan at the time and the Jedi showed up, took him “peacefully” and he hasn’t seen his parents since. He was raised in the Jedi Temple on Tython and completed a majority of his training there. He spent a few weeks/months in the temple on Coruscant as an adolescent for a new environment experience but otherwise he’s lived and breathed the Jedi for his entire young life. At the age of 15 his master Dakhoel Faolan went rogue and went to Corellia to aid those oppressed by the Empire there. He followed, as he was beginning to chafe under the Order’s control over his life and the fact that they wouldn’t let him get in contact with his parents. After the war for Corellia, when his master was presumed killed and he was only 17, he drifted for a time. He spent a lot of time on Nar Shaddaa, where he was miserable, before finding his way to Rishi and finding his father figure Hugo and Hugo’s then girlfriend/something more (?) Nyrah’s neutral bar the Swamp. He spent a bit of time there before continuing on. He attempted to go back to the Order and was turned away due to being “tainted” by the dark side and being too grey in the Force to be able to trust him.

Personality:

Tacka is...hard to read. You can tell that he’s been through a lot at a young age but he hides a lot of his internal struggles and fears with a happy-go-lucky attitude and humor. He’s a kind soul, he wants to help but sometimes he does more harm than good. Tacka is the kind of person that is so loyal that he will let the world burn just to save on person and that is, problematic, when it comes to the Jedi. In his loyalty he will sometimes become a little blind to people’s flaws, case in point with his Master Dakhoel, he trusted her so much and was so attached to her that he couldn’t see that her fleeing the Jedi was for selfish purposes and based in paranoia. While for the most part he is happy-go-lucky it is very much a cover and deep down he is wired much of the time and always on high alert, is usually stressed and has a habit of overthinking things to the point of ramping himself up so much he can’t do the thing. When he’s angry...no, threatened, it’s like that cover fails completely and he’s very intense, quite powerful, and more than a little scary, like you’ve cornered a feral wolf.

Quirks:

At some point he acquires a leather type bracelet that has a significance that only he knows and when he’s nervous he will push the strap in and out of its keeper and shift it around his wrist.

Disorders:

----

Addictions:

----

Strengths: He’s quite powerful in the Force. Not “Wren” powerful, but more so than the other padawans he was training with. He’s quite good at not leaping into fights and at thinking things through. Is his sense of humor a strength? He’s always been praised for being good with people, even if he’s a bit on the more reserved side now, he was always kind of “that friendly dude” that you could go talk to no matter what.

Weaknesses: His wholehearted trust in people that he is loyal to is an unfortunate weakness. He’s caught in the grey area of unpredictability where he’s either 100% ready to fight right here right now and actually willing to think things through which has got him in a lot of trouble. Not really weakness but he’s kind of the “you fucked up a perfectly good (Jedi) is what you did, look at it, it’s got anxiety” thing.

Phobias/Fears: Failure, getting attached to someone, and following that--losing someone he’s close to, being seen as a disappointment, the assumptions that people make about him without him knowing has kept him up at night.

Hobbies: He hasn’t been able to do it for awhile but he likes games. Physical games like cards, holo games, just...games. Especially story games that he can get lost in. He likes doing that, telling stories. He’s no writer, but he likes building those sorts of worlds and scenarios and telling these elaborate fictitious tales. He’s also interested in and quite enjoys learning new forms of lightsaber techniques and such and just the physical training like that. It’s relaxing.

Interests: I kind of covered this above, oops.

Favorite movies: Space fantasy! Think Lord of the Rings but in space! Or Space!Marvel

Favorite music: Space alt rock, think The Score, AJR, things like that.

Favorite books: Space fantasy and the like.

Favorite TV shows: Something with substance, preferably not related to real life and not filled to the brim with needless drama.

Skills/Talents: I think I mentioned his people skills? He’s become pretty good at various lightsaber fighting styles. I’ve covered this a bit all throughout.

Habits: Stressing more than he should, pacing when he’s nervous/amped up, dragging his hands through his hair if he reaches Maximum Stress.

Morality/Ethics:

He’s really somewhere in between lawful good and neutral good on the alignment chart. He wants to do good and help others but sometimes can’t always act selflessly and will disregard the laws if he thinks he can do good by going against them.  

Goals:

He wants to find a new purpose in life, find a new home and someone that he can trust. He wants to move on from the Jedi and the conflict that haunts him from their rejection. He needs to reevaluate before deciding his new long term goals.

Motivations:

For the longest time it was his sense of loyalty and duty that motivated him. Now it’s his own personal drive that motivates him to try and find who he is without his Jedi now.

Other: According to the test he is an ENFP-T personality type. Which yeah, that actually makes a lot of

Relationships:

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: I can’t figure it out for him. He kind of likes everyone without really seeking anyone/feeling that drive around anyone.

Relationship History:  So the Jedi have really stifled any sort of attachment or romantic activity in their younglings...but that isn’t going to keep a bunch of hormonal teenagers from doing whatever the hell they want. He’s kissed and/or made out with both guys and girls, but he’s never really been in a committed relationship. Thanks Jedi.  He and another padawan were kind of running a friends with benefits dynamic, except not quite that. It’s complicated, there was a lot of “fuck the system” kissing in back hallways or closets.  I never said he was a good model Jedi.

Reputation: He has to know people to have a reputation. He’s got none. Except for maybe being one of the “hot guys” of the padawans lol.  

Family:

Rheya Sutae: Rheya is Tacka’s mother, who he barely remembers. She is a force sensitive mirialan who never had any formal training with a force sensitive faction. She is a smuggler by trade (the hardcore kind, not goody two shoes like Emeldir or neutral like Rielay). She had Tacka young, after what was supposed to be a not-so-serious fling with a Jedi who was deployed for diplomatic purposes on Alderaan where she was working under the table information and supply deals with the nobles, and she and said Jedi ended up decided to try and give this unexpected baby a somewhat stable life by settling together. Clearly that didn’t work.

Jaida Sutae: Tacka’s biological father, a Jedi Knight who was especially good at solving things by diplomacy and not so good at the fighting-to-kill solution, hence his placement on Alderaan to try and talk the Republic out of conflicts. Tacka wasn’t able to learn much on his father other than mentions of him by other masters and knights in the Temple. According to them his father was a lively and charming individual that could win people over with a single smile and was never really cut out to be a Jedi.

Hugo: A father figure to Tacka who he met on Corellia. An ex-Imperial slave from the Quesh venom mines that was acting as a field medic on Corellia and unfortunately was burdened with leadership of the resistance. Hugo and Tacka cared for each other deeply and it pained Tacka to leave the one father figure he had at the end of the war, but he had to go try and find his way in life. Hugo still to this day will greet him with open arms and nothing but happiness when he pops in to the Swamp.

Friends:

Well, there’s Phaedra. She’s my (not yet introduced) togruta Jedi who was a padawan at the same time he was, is a year older than he was, and they were best friends. They caused all manner of trouble together. Probably made a few Jedi masters retire with their antics tbh.

I’d like to say that I can consider Tacka and @skullinacowboyhat’s Sunny friends? She saved his butt on Nar and they’ve been stuck with each other since, had each other’s backs. He trusts Sunny, likes her and doesn’t feel like he has to be on constant alert. I’d consider her his first “friend” like that since before Corellia.

Dakhoel was someone he considered a friend. She was his master since he was ten years old and was nothing but kind to him. An Imperial raised miraluka, fled to the Jedi after getting off of Korriban. She was killed on Corellia. Tacka loved her dearly as well, as a friend, as a mentor.

Enemies:

Darth Xin: Aka, Wren Thornley. She was the one on Corellia who killed Dakhoel (and most of Coraaliya’s Havoc Squad) and very nearly killed Tacka. They’re enemies on the grounds that Tacka wants revenge for the death of his master. If they ever met it would be interesting at the very least, in a one on one fight Tacka would probably be killed, but Xin would try her hardest to try and twist him into joining the sith and taking him as her own apprentice because of his power in the Force. I don’t think he would ever fall that far. But he comes close, after the Jedi reject him.

Love Interest:

NONE! But he deserves someone to love and who will love him so hmu if anyone’s got ocs that want to smooch the green jedi boi.

Affiliations:

Jedi:

Rank:

Technically he never became a Knight. But by all requirements except the Council’s official naming him so, he is a Jedi Knight.

Master(s): Dakheol Faolan.

Apprentice(s): ---

Describe their lightsaber(s) and color crystal(s): Tacka uses a worn saber that belonged to his master on Corellia and after Corellia, with your typical blue color crystal. After being turned away by the Jedi (when he’s ~19 and wants to try and get stability in his life by returning to them) and their taking of his saber he found a somewhat broken, quite unstable double bladed saber in the black markets of Tatooine in his wanderings and repaired that. The color crystal is still weird though, he suspects it's broken but he hasn’t been able to find a replacement. It’s gold. Trying to wield the double bladed saber in its state is a bit like trying to wield a chainsaw and its taken him a lot of work to be able to fight with it as an extension of himself.

Specialization:

Were he in came I think he would honestly fall into a mixture of Jedi Guardian and Consular Shadow

Thoughts on the Order:

WELL he’s not their biggest fan. He thinks the Order is corrupt and has moved away from their own beliefs of goodness and doing good to try and pursue a moral righteousness that is twisted. He’s angry at them, as they’ve taken his entire childhood from him and then when he returned to try and serve again they rejected him because they thought he was beyond redemption or help.

Other Info:

He’s not a Jedi anymore, not really. He’s technically a deserter and a rogue.

Other Biographical Info:

Birthworld: Alderaan

Homeworld:

Right now he doesn't have a home. The closest he can think of is Rishi, but that’s really just a time to time home, where he’ll spend a few days at the Swamp with Hugo and Nyrah.

Familial Background:

I covered this earlier because I’m overzealous in my information, but his family is really just him and his parents. His mother is a smuggler who doesn’t have good relationships with any of her remaining family while his father--just like Tacka--was taken from his family by the Order at a very young age.

Other Info:

His tattoos on his arms and shoulders are based vaguely on what he can remember from his parents’ tattoos and his own design while the others on his face are based on things specifically from mirialan culture.  

[dontcheckthis-blog]

Blood by Blood [18]

EXO Vampire!AU/Werewolf!AU

Summary: Huáng Jié (黃 杰) is a human turned vampire by a Pureblood. After that incident, she is presumed dead since three days. When she wakes up, she is sucked into a new yet darker world to which she never wanted a part in.

Warnings: Blood, gore, mature content, dark subjects, if you are disturbed by such then do not read this. Further warnings will be added as the story progresses.

Part 17 - Part 19

“T-Tao...hyung?” Sehun stutters, still in shock. Tao nodded, chuckling a bit. “I’m here, Sehun-ah, still alive and well.” Sehun immediately hugs him, relief to see him again. “You guys managed to get out, that’s good.” Tao says, pulling away from him gently and giving him a smile. Noticing his injuries, Taos’ expression quickly turns into concern for him. “You’re injured, are you-“

“Hyung, I’m fine...don’t worry.” Sehun reassures him, letting him inside the place.

Hearing the familiar voice, she quickly gets up from her place and rushes to see who it is, instead she stumbles on her footing and falls to the ground, groaning in slight pain. “Crap.” Sighing, she picks herself up and just as she stands back on her feet, Tao sees her. “Jie-yah! You’re alrigh-“ seeing the blood seeping through her bandages on her stomach, he rushes to her and helps her up. Letting her take a seat.

“Jie-yah, who did this-oh god!” Tao covers his nose, moving and falling on the ground, groaning loudly. Jie’s brows furrows in confusion, Sehun looks at him weirdly, leaning closer to Jie and sniffing her. “Hyung, I don’t find any-“

“You don’t smell it?! God! It’s so fucking strong on her! Shit!” Tao yells out, still covering his nose from the strong smell. Jie feels a pang of guilt in her heart as she tries to sniff herself and yes, there was a bit of smell but of course, who could think about it now since their situation was not the right time. Tao takes a deep breath before beginning to explain on her. “I’m sorry, Jie-yah but if you think it’s your body odor or sweat, you are so damn wrong, it’s something more-oh god! Fucking hell!”

“What is it? Tao-sshi, please just tell me right now and-“ she was cut off as Tao stood back up on his feet. “Luhan’s scent is so strong on you, did he feed from you?” Tao asks her, a serious tone mixed in.

She freezes. Gulping, she looks at the ground instead, clenching a fist in a slight anger. Sehun and Tao notices her tensed posture, turning to Tao, he gives him a slight nod, indicating that Luhan did feed from her and now his scent was lingering with her without her knowing.

“Yixing....is your maker, right?” She nodded at his question.

“And...Luhan, Sehuns’ maker...fed from you....” another nod.

“And now....the bond is ruined...between you two....”

Silence between all of them. The bond is ruined. Yixing and Jie. The bond between them is ruined. Tangled. Untamed. All because another Pureblood fed from a feeder that wasn’t his. Luhan fed from Jie and ruined the bond between her and Yixing. Never let another Pureblood feed from a feeder that isn’t his or her own, because then it will be complicated between them. The bond will be ruined and it can be almost impossible to retrieve it back the way it was. The bond allows them to connect with each other as well as giving each other strength but if it is ruined.....

.....It can lead to a serious happening....

“Great..” Tao mutters, sighing heavily, putting his hand on his forehead and rubbing his temples. “That bastard.....”

“Is there....any way...I could..try and-“ Tao cuts her off, finishing her sentence for her. “To get the bond back?” Tao looks at her, his eyebrows raised in question as Jie nodded slowly. Tao exhales before answering her. “It’s almost impossible, once it’s ruined, it’s ruined. You can’t exactly put it back the way it was because now, other Purebloods can easily feed from you because one already broke the rules, you and Yixing will be suffering a lot, more with him though since he’s the one who turned you.”

“What about Sehun? Luhan is his maker but-“

“But the bond between them is still strong because a Pureblood did not feed from Sehun. Yet. In your case, you were fed from by a Pureblood, Luhan, and it ruined the strong bond between you and Yixing which makes everything complicated now since I’m pretty sure that Luhan is starting to be obsessed with your blood, for fucks’ sake! Even his scent is on you already and it’s so fucking strong, shit!” He covers his nose again as the strong smell hits his nostrils.

“Well, fuck....” Jie mutters under her breath, clenching her fists. “When I first met you, I smelled Yixing on you which prompted me to think that you are his feeder but now, I’m sure that all vampires and werewolves are gonna be thinking that Luhan is your feeder instead because of that strong fucking scent.”

Sehun sniffs Jie again, trying to find Luhans’ scent on her but he couldn’t find any. “Hyung, I can’t even smell it. Honestly.”

“Oh, right. Now, I remember. In your case, Sehun-ah, you can’t because your bastard of a Pureblood is your maker and he fed from her. A Pureblood didn’t feed from you, you’re safe as hell. For Jie however, she’s in a hell lot of danger because of this. Okay, look! It’s damn complicated to try and explain this and here’s one thing, alright? Jie-yah,” he turns to Jie.

“If you are starting to feel hungrier than usual and your eyes are always a pale blue and you feel very empty and there are also other signs that I cannot remember at the moment and I’m sorry but if you start to feel those signs, your life is in danger for you and Yixing and the both of you need to be together, hell you might even need each other at this point because of the ruined bond.

And of course, here’s the big problem! Yixing is most likely still in that place or,” his face drops into a serious and slightly worried expression which makes Jie nervous. “...or?”

“Or he’s nowhere to be found.”

“She impaled him through the heart, impressive. She is a lot like him in strengths and abilities.” Junmyeon takes his glass, twirling it slightly and letting the blood flow around the glass, staining the sides before taking a drink and setting it again on the table infront of him.

Kyungsoo agrees, nodding slowly. “But how will she survive now? Her strength is slowly fading away, she used the last of it by impaling one of our feeders and not only that, Luhan hyung fed from her,”

Junmyeon licks his lips, getting to the corners of his mouth and stealing away the excess blood drops that managed to go over. “Oh, right. He fed from her, didn’t he? Poor thing, I’ll admit, I do sympathize slightly for her, she’s only scared. Just like how Sehun was when he was first brought here. Then we had to wait for the Bride, hmm.....was it not Minseoks’ turn to do so?” He turns to Kyungsoo with a questioning look.

“If I remember correctly, yes. It was Minseok hyungs’ turn but Yixing hyung somehow couldn’t control himself and instead, unknowingly turned someone else as the Bride instead.” Kyungsoo responds.

“And that someone is Huang Jie who just so happens to be connected to Sehun, it makes it more appealing I would say.” Junmyeon twirls his glass again.

“Yixing hyung has escaped.”

“I know, did you know your feeder is injured because of him?”

“I did, he’s resting right now.”

“That’s good. I just wonder how Luhan hyung is taking this.”

“Taking what, may I ask?” Luhan appears before them, taking a seat by the table and joining in with them. Junmyeon smirks slightly. “The fact that Yixing has escaped from your hold.”

Luhan chuckles. “He’s the least of my problems, Junmyeon. What we should be focusing on more is Jie and Sehun, exactly what Kyungsoo said, Jies’ strength is fading away because I fed from her, soon enough she’ll be helpless against us.” He explains, leaning back a bit. Kyungsoo raises his head questioningly at him. “But what about that wolf? Tao hyung, what will we do about him?”

Luhan exhales, thinking before he got something on his mind. “We’ll let our wolves take care of him.” Kyungsol tilts his head slightly, after the mentioning of the wolves. “You’re going to use them, hyung?” Luhan nodded at his question. “What use of them if we are just going to let them live here within the cages?”

“You do have a point.” Kyungsoo mutters, taking a sip of his drink and setting the glass down again on the table.

The Red Moon. Out in the night, crimson color. Just like how blood is. Yixing walks through carefully around the forest. He needed to be far away from them so they couldn’t feel his presence. Looking at the Red Moon, he exhales. How much he wished that it would vanish by now and then they wouldn’t be as powerful as they are when the Red Moon is out in the night, shining through. But unfortunately, that isn’t possible. There were still more left, more years left and that Blood Moon is not going anywhere anytime soon. He couldn’t go to her directly, if he did, they would eventually figure it out and where he is, endangering him and them even more than it already is. He needed first to try and drag them away. Trick them. Manipulate the tracks.

But his wounds were making it difficult for him as the blood keeps on washing through, the strong smell that could possibly lure out other creatures and it could create some difficulties for him. After a few moments, he sits on the ground, leaning himself against a tree for support. He checks his wounds, lifting up his ruined shirt and seeing the deep wound on his stomach that Luhan had inflicted on him. He groans a bit from the pain as he shifts slightly in his place.

A sudden snaps of twigs catches his attention, turning to the direction of the source of the sound. Seeing a wolf walking up to him slowly, a familiar smell that hits his nostrils but he couldn’t figure out who it is behind that form. Getting ready to attack and defend himself, the wolf sniffs him and his wound.

It’s funny to see you here, Yixing

Recognizing the voice in his head, he looks at the wolf in its’ eyes. Seeing the familiar color.

Yifan.....I could say the same for you....

Care to explain what inflicted that on you?

Use your nose....

Yifan, still in his wolf form, sniffs his wound again and then the scent hits his wolf nostrils, he knew who that scent belonged to.

Luhan....did this?

Believe it or not....he did.....

What the hell is happening with all of you?

Something.......very complicated......

Yifan turns back into his human form, helping Yixing up from the ground. “Let’s get you cleaned up, first then explain everything to me.” He says, bringing him with and going to his place which they were lucky was only a few minutes away.

After helping his much needed wounds that needed to be tended and looked after, Yixing decides to explain everything that has happened so far, including the part where Luhan had ruined the bond severely between him and Jie.

“He fed from her?!” Yixing nodded at his question, slightly shifting in his seat to try and get comfortable and careful to not ruin his bandages. “He...fed from her and almost drained her...” he groans slightly. Yifan rubs his forehead, annoyed and irritated. Luhan could never keep to himself, he always wants to steal away and to the point, it always ends up in a bad ending. Just like before, where he got obsessed with the blood and overall everything of her, Yixings’ first feeder. And then he.....

“That sick Pureblood always needs to try and steal everything away for himself...” Yifan mutters, slightly shaking his head. “There’s another problem, Yifan.....you know about that sacrifice? The one that was used in the ancient days with vampires?” Yifan nodded at his saying, letting him continue on and explain. “Apparently....our ‘pack’ has never stopped it....they’ve continued it until now and they plan to never stop...anytime soon....”

“Wait, what?! That was a long time ago and it’s dangerous for all of us! If they keep this up, the Bride or the Groom will most likely end and kill every one of us! They’ll destroy everything!” Yifan exclaims, slamming his fist on the table angrily. “Don’t tell me.....she’s....the-“ Yixing cuts him off, already knowing what he was going to state. “Yes....she is....and Sehun....is the Groom.....they both...know about this and they’ve managed to escape...”

“Where are they now? Do you know?” Yixing shakes his head, indicating he doesn’t know their whereabouts. “No, I don’t but I can’t just find them right now or else they’ll use my scent and try and find them..... I need to wait until it’s safe enough to try and find them, a heavy rain would be a good time for this situation...” Yixing explains his plan to him, Yifan was one of the packmates that had no interest in this and he was not involved in such thing. What he wanted most was peace and that all should be well. Yixing trusts him and knew that Yifan didn’t like the idea of the sacrifice to revive itself again, knowing the harsh history behind it.

“I’m not much of help, you should know that.” Yifan says, sighing heavily. His telepathic skills were not at best and it did not do so well, that’s why he doesn’t know so much of what is happening within the pack. Yixing nodded in understanding. “I understand but you’ve helped my wounds, that’s quite enough. But right now, they are threatening to let the wolves out and Tao is also in deep involvement with this situation, he was the one who told Jie and Sehun everything and they’ve managed to catch on with the act. They even sent a gift to him and he did the same, only more.....descriptive....”

“....What do you need then?” Yifan gives in, looking at him in question and waiting for his response. Yixing gives him a small smile. “Just mask off my scent from them, that’s all. Enough time for me to find them and get them both away from here, so they can live hopefully better than being in this area where they shouldn’t be.....they shouldn’t have been involved here with us in the first place....they could have lived happily if they were never turned....”

“...I understand......be careful, Yixing.....with the bond ruined between the two of you, it will be complicated to get it back the way it was....other Purebloods will be able to feed from her now, and it will make you lose yourself as well as her, you have to connect yourself to her......at least...try yourself...”

Yixing nodded. “Thank you...Yifan..”

“You must rest for now, tomorrow you may go but give your wounds enough time to heal and most importantly....

You have to feed....no matter what, even better if it is from your feeder.”

“Be careful okay, Jie-yah?” Sehun looks at her with worry. Jie nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, indicating that she will be okay and of course, alive when he gets back. “Sehun-ah, I’ll be okay.” She says, Tao comes in and gestures to Sehun. “We have to go now, Sehun-ah,” he turns to Jie with a slight worry masked in his eyes but he trusts her. “Jie-yah, we’ll be as quick as possible, stay safe and be careful, remember the password too.” Jie nods at his response. Given the codeword that it meant them by the outside of the place, she remembers it. Clear as day.

“Be careful, the two of you.” She says as they all say goodbye and leave her alone in the room, going outside in the heavy rain. She looks out to the window, seeing the heavy rain falling down to the ground and the pit pat of the sounds that come with it. Squeezing her hand slightly, she hopes to herself that they will come back safe and sound, especially in this heavy rain to which she never knew would come around during her time here as she never expected it.

Given the heavy rain, her heightened senses as a vampire did not work well with it, she could tell as she could barely smell anything and if she tried to, it would only give off a blank, neutral scent instead because of the heavy rain that also gave a moist and heavy air. She sighs, laying herself down gently and clutching to her wound, it was somehow healing slowly and she didn’t feel as much pain as she did before when she came here.

Even if her sense of heightened was not working so well in this rain, her sense of hearing was still an option and this time, it was helping her because she hears a the splatters of mud on the ground as well as the footsteps that the rain masks in within the sounds. She gets up slowly and keeps herself on guard, never knowing what could happen. Gulping nervously, she tenses, standing up as she waits for a possible impact on the door infront of her or a knock from the outside.

There came a knock instead and a soft one. Stepping slowly towards the door, she hesitates to open it. She didn’t want to because it could end her at any moment if she lets the unknown person inside here with her. Exhaling, nervously, she sets her hand on the door knob but she doesn’t turn it yet. Not until she hears the familiar voice that makes her freeze in her place, her heart dropping as she hears the person from outside utter her name.

“Jie-yah.... It’s me....”

She stops.

Yi...xing......

She turns the door knob and opens it, seeing Yixing infront of her, hair wet and damp from the rain and his eyes.....

A pale blue color and she could see his fangs forming, potruding out of his mouth, her gaze pans down to his wound on the stomach, the blood seeping through as the metallic smell hits her nostrils.

It happened so fast. He grabs and pulls her to him, attaching his lips to her with passion and his hand on her cheek while the other stays on her waist, pulling her closer to his body as he kisses her deeply. She didn’t pull away, letting him do his action as the door closes behind them. After the assault on her lips, he moves to her jaw, leaving kisses here and there, earning a content sigh from her. Then his lips lands on her neck, his favourite place. He stops for a moment, earning a slight whine from her.

“I’m hungry....” he says in a low voice and impatient for her answer, he sinks his fangs into her skin, a silent whimper escaping from her mouth as she holds onto him, closing her eyes shut tight. “Yi..xing...”

Retracting his mouth away from her neck, he licks his lips knowing her blood went all over his mouth. The blood slowly gushing out of the wound he inflicted on her on the neck, he licks her wound gently, Jie sighing and letting out a breathy moan from the action. “Yi..xing.....please....”

He pulls away, looking at her. He kisses her again, this time softly. “I miss you....I’m sorry....Jie-yah...” he mutters, leaning his forehead against her. Jie puts her hand on his cheek, slightly caressing the skin softly. “I thought you were...with it....”

Yixing shakes his head. “No, I never was. I never wanted to....”

“Yixing....I heard it...”

“Heard what?”

“You...saying it....”

“What did I say?”

“I’ll answer it for you instead...”

“Then say it.....what did you hear?”

Her heart starts to beat slightly quicker than normally. She looks at him, seeing his eyes fading from a pale blue to his normal ones. She kisses him again, tasting the blood left on his lips before pulling away again and leaning her forehead against his.

Her heart......

Belongs to.....

Him......

“I love you.....

.....Yixing....”

[klaroline-4ever]

Chapter 7

When the movie session was over, Rebekah decided to invite Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Stefan, Damon, and April, who was the only friend she had since day one, to go to the Mikaelson mansion so they could spend more time together.

***

"So... Blondie, Care to tell us how you and the hybrid started to... you know?" Damon asked, truly curious with how from all of the sudden Caroline decided to start to hang out with Klaus and be so affectionate with him in such a short amount of time, if it was years ago (when she was human) he would understand but now she was different and was too full of morals to change boyfriends just like that.

"Well, in the night I broke up with Tyler, I went to the Grill, Klaus was there and we got to talking, then I started to spend more time with him and decided to give him a chance." Caroline said vaguely because they still haven't defined a story and if she got into many details Damon would see she was lying because Caroline was an awful liar.

"And you two are really dating?" Damon asked.

"Yes." Klaus said, wrapping his arm around Caroline with a smirk because with this lie, not only he could spend more time with her but she also wouldn't be able to date anyone.

"But we are taking things slow." Caroline said.

"Saint Caroline with the big bad wolf? I need another drink." Damon said and served himself another drink.

While Damon was picking what to drink he was listening to part of Elena and Elijah's conversation.

"Are you kidding? I love that author! Unfortunately, there are only ten copies of that book so it's impossible for me to find one and read it." Elena said.

"This might be your lucky day, Elena. I am the owner of that book. I was friends with him. It's a shame he wasn't appreciated in his time." Elijah said. "If you want, you can borrow it and give me back later."

"I couldn't. What if something happened to it?"

"I'm sure it won't. You are a very caring person. Let me take you to the library." Elijah said and with that, the two of them left the room.

Damon went back to the couch and drank the whiskey he had found to forget about Elena and how he hated she never gave him a chance.

Rebekah was talking a lot with April but sometimes she paid attention to Stefan. April felt like an outsider because she knew this was the inner group of the popular kids which she would never be part of, or at least that's how she felt. No one could blame her, when she was younger, she went to a boarding school and now she was back after years and it was complicated to get along with people when you are the new kid and everyone already knows everyone else. Sure, she knew them but it was when they were just kids. April decided to go to the kitchen to get some water when suddenly she heard a woosh and look behind her to see Kol smirking at her.

"Hi! You must be Kol. I'm April."

"Hello, darling! My sister talks a lot about you. Although she never mentioned how beautiful you are." Kol smirked, making April smile.

"Definitely Kol. Rebekah warned me about you. You're the womanizer." April said, remembering what Rebekah had told her about Kol.

"What more did she say?" Kol asked curiously.

"That I should stay away from you."

"My sister is really protective over you." Kol noticed.

"Kol, stop bothering my friend. Sorry, April. My brother doesn't know when to give up." Rebekah said and made Kol leave the kitchen.

"He wasn't bothering me. He actually seemed nice." April said.

"Kol? Ha! You really don't know him. He is just an annoying and childish womanizer." Rebekah said.

April went back to the living room with Rebekah and they talked although sometimes Kol tried to make conversation with April.

Klaus has been giving sweet kisses on Caroline's cheek, neck and shoulder, which was making her really horny but she knew that if she did something she would regret it so she gave the excuse she was tired but then realized she would sleep with Klaus because Stefan, Elijah, Kol, April, and Damon didn't know it was all a facade.

"Good night, love." Klaus whispered to her ear and kissed her cheek, then started to leave a trail of sweet kisses to her neck, making her bite her lower lip.

She turned a bit to him and he quickly got on top of her, kissing her shoulder and caressing her waist, under her top, making him feel her soft skin.

Caroline moves her hands to his waist and ran her hands to his 6 pack, under his t-shirt, making him groan as she felt each ab.

"Love..." he groans in pleasure.

"We should go to sleep." Caroline whispered to herself.

"Of course, Love." Klaus whispered, getting off of her but having an arm wrapped around her because he still wanted to feel close to her.

Klaus was now starting to see that this fake relationship plan didn't give him only benefits. Yes, this was a way he could get closer to Caroline and this was a way he could make Caroline see that he truly fancied her and wished to make her feel happy and loved, but now he could see that this plan could also be a way of torture because he would be so close to her but couldn't actually have her, at least not right away, he was more than willingly to wait for her to give him a chance but being like this with her and keep his self control in check would be definitely a big challenge... but he knew Caroline was worth it.

***

Elijah was in the library showing Elena some books when he got a few messages that were from Katherine and were photos of Katherine in sexy underwear.

"Is everything okay, Lijah?"

"Yes. Katerina is just trying to find ways to get me back and I am trying to make it clear it's over."

"What did she do this time?"

"Send pictures of herself."

"Wha...? Oh!!!" Elena said realizing what he meant. "And I've been asking you to spend time with me to train me. I'm so sorry. I'm only making things harder for you... No pun intended."

"No. You and Katerina are completely different. Like I told you before, your physical appearance is the only thing you have in common." Elijah said and Elena gave him a small smile.

"But if you want us to stop talking or to stop training I'll understand."

"No need for that." Elijah quickly said.

to be continued...

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Ben & Porsche snippet 1

“I’m coming.” Ben promised, already out the door without a second thought.  He had just gotten home from work, his wallet was on his person and he’d swiped his keys back up from where he’d left them.  Porsche had insisted on going out with her one friend from university and on her way back alone bumped into a rather undesirable character.  

Bohdan Bzovsky was possibly Ben’s least favourite person living this side of the Atlantic Ocean and so he certainly didn’t need to be anywhere near Porsche Hauptman.

It took him a record fifteen minutes to get to where she was and his heart dropped when he realized she had allowed herself to be cornered by hiding herself away in a small coffee shop.  Bohdan was standing outside patiently.  It was unlike a werewolf to play with his prey in that way and it pushed Ben a little closer to the edge of beyond angry.

“She called her babysitter.”  The accent was thicker than what Ben was used to hearing out of the other man’s mouth.  

“I’m her friend.”  Ben corrected, thankful he wasn’t lying.  “And you shouldn’t be here.  The Marrok would have your head for preying on his granddaughter.”

“She isn’t yours, wolf.”  Bohdan taunted.

“She’s more mine than yours.”  Ben snarled and Bohdan laughed in his face more than literally.

“Have you gotten a taste of her yet?”

“You don’t have the right to think of her like that.”  The younger man didn’t know when he had wrapped his fingers around the other man’s throat.  “You never did.  You shouldn’t have touched her.  She was weak, it’s your job to protect her. You were her second.”

“Will you not touch her because I did?”  Even with his air restricted, Bzovsky smirked, “Or because you shouldn’t think of her either?  What is it Americans say? I forget sometimes…’she’s a great fuck’? I think that’s it.” He had the nerve to laugh when Ben’s hand tightened.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ben growled, “I’m no more American than you. Less so, in fact, you came before me.”

“In every sense of the word.” Ben slammed the other man’s head against the brick, thankful that they were in a residential neighborhood.  No one was strolling through, conveniently or unfortunately.  It was a fact that made it harder for Ben to not kill him there.

He let go.

Bohdan took a few slow breaths, watching Ben carefully.

“That’s right.” Bohdan’s lips played into a grin again.  “You wouldn’t want to get sent away again.”  Ben froze, that wasn’t something many people knew about this side of the pond and that specific fact was something almost entirely unknown.  “I have friends in far places.”

“Killing you would make it worth it.” Ben spat, but there was a nanny and her two charges walking by on the sidewalk now and he didn’t need the publicized attention.

The stand-off wouldn’t have ended if Bohdan hadn’t conveniently been called away in that moment to tend to something about a new pack member. Ben felt even more sick hearing on the other end of the phone call that it was a new woman.

He would tell the Marrok what Bohdan had said and hopefully it would be carefully monitored.

Ben hurried inside the small cafe to find the girl who had called him all but hiding in the back, curled up on her chair the tightest she could manage with tea in front of her.  

“Did you pay?” Ben asked gently, approaching her.  She nodded shakily.  “Do you want to stay or should we go?”

“Go.” Her voice cracked and he clenched his fists.  He should have killed him.

“Ok, come on.”  He relaxed again, as much as he could.  Their slight height difference made holding her to him a little awkward in his opinion.  Ben also doubted her compliance with letting him pull her along.  He was still over-thinking when she shakily slid her hand into his and squeezed as tightly as she could.

They got home and she lost control.  She had been holding together so well for him outside.  He wanted nothing more than to hold her and kiss her fear and all the bad memories away, but he couldn’t.  Instead, he encouraged her to shower off her day, helping her shakily into the warm water.  He held his breath because he couldn’t avoid seeing her.  It wasn’t unusual, they were werewolves and they saw each other naked on at least one occasion per month.

It was the strangeness of the intimacy, helping her trembling and tear-streaked form into the shower.  It was the control it took when she wouldn’t let go of his hand and he let her convince him to stand in her shower with his pants and shirt still on.  

It was not touching her, just letting her hold his hand.  His wolf was ready to make her his and he knew he couldn’t do that to her.  

It helped that wet jeans were impossible to get out of.

He watched her slide down the wall of the shower, shampoo still in her hair, and break down again.  All he could do was help her finish rinsing it out or risk loosing his focus and control altogether.  He then shut off the water and stepped out to get her towel.  

When she was wrapped in it, he let himself hold her again but he’d had to take his own sopping wet shirt off.

“Get dressed,” He said quietly.  He’d grabbed clothes when he had found her towel and he needed to find a way to take off his pants now before they got stiff.  She clutched the towel to herself and slowly entered her bedroom.  He turned around and made the fastest work that he could of the pants, pulling on sweats and a t-shirt in a total of fifteen minutes.

She was sitting on the bed when he emerged, clothed in only one of his t-shirts and he felt his wolf settle, if just a little.  

Porsche was his, in every way he could afford to let her be.  

A/N -

So I have a collection of snippets that take place between Porsche’s family leaving NYC and her coming home.  Anyone who reads my Ao3 fic knows the general situation.  

There are some pieces that didn’t make it and some mental stories that don’t need to be told, but maybe I’ll share here and there.  Was going to share a different one yesterday but this one is the one I went through today and tweaked so…

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- Prophetic Nightmare, Take 2!

Hey everyone -- remember the fic snippet Prophetic Nightmare from my Londerland Bloodlines AU? I do because I was looking at it recently, thanks to being back into said AU because of the recent sequel announcement. And while I was looking at it, I thought, “I really ought to edit this now that I’ve changed the AU around so Bonejangles, aka Sam Thatcher, is part of the group after the Giovannni raid.”

So I did! What’s the point of being a writer if you can’t improve your old fics? So today I present to you the updated version of “Prophetic Nightmare,” where Victor has a pretty intense dream about the possible fate of his World of Darkness family. As per the first version of the fic, I’m going to warn for blood, gore, dismemberment, and eye trauma. I’m not lying when I say it’s fairly intense -- there is a LOT of horror in the beginning. Fortunately, it also keeps the trip to Victor’s happy place at the end if you need a breather after all the gore. Hope you like this new, “canon-compliant” version of the fic!

"I'm home, everyone! Who wants – hello?"

Victor shifted his grocery bags, peering between them into the apartment. To his surprise, the living room was empty, as was the attached kitchen. "Emily? Lizzie? Sam? Wasn't there anything good on TV?"

No response. Victor frowned. It wasn't like them to just vanish like this. . .had they gone out for some reason after he'd left? But he couldn't see a note anywhere. . .he glanced up toward the loft. "Alice? Are you up?"

Silence. Now thoroughly puzzled, he set the bags on the counter bar, then headed upstairs. The bedroom door was closed, and the little office nook was empty. Victor bent over the computer and wiggled the mouse. The screen came to life, showing the six of them lined up on the couch – Lizzie and Sam each perched atop an arm, and him, Emily, Victoria, and Alice crammed into the middle. He grinned as he took in Emily's enthusiastic wave to the camera, Victoria's shy, almost embarrassed smile, and Alice's sparkling eyes as she hooked her arm around his shoulders. Just knowing a single one of these lovely ladies was a privilege. And here he was, the boyfriend of all three. With an honorary older sister and brother in the bargain. And to think I once thought moving here was a mistake. I really am the luckiest man in the world.

Unfortunately, he couldn't just stand here and stare at his favorite ladies all night – he had a mystery to solve. He opened up the "LaCroix Foundation Secure Intranet" application. "15 e-mails – 3 unread" appeared under the title bar, in all their DOS-y green glory. So Alice, at least, had to be here – she never left the haven without reading her e-mails. Perhaps she hadn't yet risen? But the sun had been sinking below the horizon when he'd arrived back. . .surely she'd be up by now, driven to seek out her first drink of the night? Frowning, Victor put the computer back to sleep and went over to the bedroom door. "Alice?" he called, knocking. "Everything all right?"

Still nothing. Victor opened the door, now thoroughly concerned. "Alice?" he repeated, flicking on the light switch. "Al – ALICE!"

His hand clamped itself over his mouth, holding in a surge of horrified bile. The bedroom was painted in blood and gore, red dripping off the walls and body parts flung carelessly every which way. A leg, dangling over the edge of the bed. A hand, saluting him from the top of the dresser. An arm, lying right at his feet. . .and, sitting on the pillow, a very familiar head, watching him as he struggled to keep down his lunch. No. . .no no nonono –

Dark sister, not dark mistress!

Victor blinked, then forced himself to step over the arm for a closer look at the head. It gaped up at him, an expression of agonized horror on its beautiful features. But – the hair was a different shade of brown, with a fringe of bangs falling across the forehead. The lips were a trifle fuller than the ones he was used to kissing, the nose turned up slightly more. And the eyes were a clear blue instead of a bright green, the sky on a summer's day instead of the grass. The voice was right – not his dearest beloved. Yet someone almost as bad. "Oh no. . .Lizzie. . ."

Tears welled up in his eyes as his fingers traced the contours of her cheek. "Oh Lizzie. . .who did this to you?" he whispered. "I thought. . .didn't we get rid of all the local Giovanni? Who else would – would want this?" He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. . .oh, Sam's going to be heartbroken. . .and Alice too. . ."

If they're still alive.

Victor's blood went icy. The whole apartment was silent as a tomb. And just because it wasn't Alice here didn't mean – he tore open the door to the master bathroom, hoping against hope there wasn't a similar scene inside.

There was – but again, it wasn't Alice's face that greeted him. Instead, Emily's broken and bloody visage stared up at him from under the toilet, the rest of her body scattered across the floor. Looking into those dulled blue eyes, seeing them stare sightlessly back at him – dead in a way she'd never been, even during her time in the Underworld – it was more than he could bear. He dropped to his knees, one hand tangled in her freshly-dyed locks, the other gathering up one of her discarded arms – the left, the one he'd first seen as a skeletal "branch" back in Burtonsville, the one that had accepted his ring and his hand and pulled him into this mad, wonderful world beyond human understanding – and cradling it to his chest, weeping openly. "No. . .no. . .Emily. . ."

SLAM!

Victor jumped, head whipping around toward the noise. What – was that the front door? Did I leave it open? I don't think I did. . .and I don't think it would close on its own either. Oh God, is Victoria here? No, I can't let her see this. . . Carefully setting Emily's abused parts on the floor, he hurried out onto the balcony. "Vi – VICTORIA!"

It was indeed Victoria downstairs – or, rather, what was left of her. His living love was lying on the floor of the apartment, skin even paler than his, throat torn open almost to her spine. Victor stumbled his way to the stairs –

And promptly tripped over Sam, flopped across the steps like a rag doll. His legs stuck out at odd angles, and the back of his head was caved in. One arm reached toward Victor in a pathetic postmortem plea for help. Victor turned away, pressing a hand against his heaving stomach. All gone. . .all of them, gone. . .he forced himself past Sam's still corpse, to where Victoria lay. Her bright blue eyes stared past him, full of fossilized terror. He collapsed next to her, sobbing. Why? he mentally screamed. Why? We made it past the Giovanni! We hid ourselves from the Prince! We were happy! We were – we – I – I had so little time with them. . .

Dark mistress still lives, the voice in his head whispered, tone urgent. You must find dark mistress!

Victor lifted his head, touching his chest. Yes. . .Alice still lived. He could still feel her in his veins – weak, faded, but – there. Not broken, not gone. He still wasn't entirely alone. Not yet. But where was she? There was no way she was responsible for this chaos, and no way she would have let it come to pass if she'd been at home. . .he scrambled upright, flinging himself at the front door and throwing it open so hard he broke it off its hinges.

An alleyway stretched out before him, longer than any he'd ever seen. He blinked, then groaned. Oh no. . .not now! he scolded the voice in his head. I thought I'd lucked out just hearing you!

Not me, the voice replied, sounding distinctly confused. Not my luck.

Victor blinked again, staring at the impossible concrete below him. What? But – but if it's not you, then why –

Dark mistress! the voice cried, and Victor snapped his head up to see a figure dressed in blue, long dark hair streaming out behind her, running down the other end of the alley. In pursuit of whoever had inflicted such carnage on those they loved? Fleeing same? Victor didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered was that she was there, she was alive –

and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He took off down the street, sorrow and confusion subsumed under a gush of rage. You took my loves, he hissed mentally at the invisible culprit behind the slaughter. You took my family. You took almost everything I had that made life worth living here. But you will not get her. You will not get the one I have left. I am going to find you, and I'm going to tear your heart out and feast on your sweet blood. I'm going to commit as close to diablerie as a human can! I am going to hunt you down and suck you – "Ooof!"

Something leapt on him from behind, dragging him to the pavement like a wolf taking down a deer. Victor fought against its grip, arms and legs flying, but its strength was ten times his, and it easily pinned him to the concrete. "Let me go!" he screamed, reaching toward the far-away figure of his beloved. "Alice! Alice!!"

But she was already gone, almost as if she'd never been. Moments later, so was the light. Panic gnawed at Victor's mind as the alley plunged into deep shadow, leaving naught but the vague suggestion of walls and floor. No. . .please no. . .I-I don't like the dark. . .

Claws caressed his face, a painful parody of Alice's hand against his cheek. "What a yummy little bloodbag," a voice rasped in his ear. "We might keep you a while." Fangs raked his neck, leaving stinging welts in their wake. Victor elbowed the creature, but it didn't even notice. "Let's make you a proper drink, why don't we?"

Victor had exactly one second to wonder what the hell that meant. Then suddenly his eyes were on fire as the claws dug into them, and the darkness deepened to an endless impenetrable void, and there was wetness on his cheeks but it wasn't tears and he couldn't see he couldn't see he couldn't see no no no no no no – "NOOOOOOO!"

He jerked bolt upright, eyes flying open – and thank God, they were there to open, he could see the little lamp glowing in the corner of Alice's bedroom, but his sockets still hurt his neck still hurt everything still hurt and he was afraid to move, afraid that if he got up and switched on the light he'd find himself staring at another disembodied head and no no no he couldn't go through that again once was enough –

"Victor?"

A hand touched his knee, and he looked down. Alice was peering up muzzily beside him, her expression sluggishly concerned. "What–"

"Victor!"

The door banged open, leaving him and Alice blinking as the light beyond intruded on their darkness. Moments later, it was shrouded again as Emily, Lizzie, Sam, and Victoria crowded the threshold, each trying to be the first get inside. "We heard a scream – what happened?" Emily asked, finally making it to the front.

"Are you both all right?" Victoria added, twisting her hands together.

"I think you woke the whole building with that cry," Lizzie said, glancing behind her.

"Yeah – Jesus, Victor, didn't know you could reach those high notes!" Sam agreed, scratching under his hat. "Seriously, you okay?"

Victor opened and closed his mouth, unable to do much more than stare. They were here. Everyone was here. Everyone was here, and whole, and alive, and – and – and –

The tears were pouring down his face before he even realized he was crying. He curled up on himself, pressing his face into his knees as he sobbed. He couldn't help it. He was so, so glad to see them all okay. . .but the images of Emily and Lizzie's torn-apart bodies, Sam's mutilated corpse, Victoria's violated throat, Alice's back vanishing into the black danced before his mind's eye, tormenting him with the possibility that it could all still be true. . .can't let it happen can't let it happen I can't lose them can't lose them. . . .

A cool arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's all right," Alice said, voice still a little foggy. "It's all right. We're all here. You just had a nightmare, okay? You're all right."

"Please don't cry, Victor," Emily added, settling down beside him with a squeak of the bedsprings. The others crowded around them, hands rubbing his back or stroking his hair or just laying comfortingly on his arm or leg. "Everything's okay. It was just a dream."

Just a dream. . .he managed a nod, sniffling and gulping down air. He knew that. Knew that the hell he'd just gone through was blessedly unreal. But the biting, gaping sorrow of seeing his friends – his family, his loves – torn apart before him, and the sheer, unadulterated terror of the monster in the dark clawing at his face held him tight, refusing to let him wiggle free. Just a dream, he told himself. Just a dream. . .but God, it felt so real. . .

"Victor." Suddenly Alice's voice was all command. "Look at me a moment."

Victor raised his head. His vision was cloudy with tears, but Alice's green gaze pierced him straight through, holding him still. "Is it all right if I – make you calm down a bit?"

Victor's brow furrowed. Make him. . .then he remembered Santa Monica, pain forgotten in a rush of sweet elixir, and an examination cubicle transforming into his childhood bedroom. "L-like in the clinic?" She nodded. "Y-yes, please." Anything to stop this agony.

Her hand cradled the back of his head. "You're in a safe place, Victor," she said, voice echoing across his skull and blocking out all other sound. "A place where you feel completely comfortable. A place that makes you happy, makes you calm. A place where nothing can hurt you. You're safe there, Victor. You can relax."

The world flashed purple – and just like that, the walls around him were gone, replaced by trees. Victor wiped his eyes and looked around. The six of them were now sitting on a mossy log in the middle of a forest, pines and oaks and birches stretching up to a bright blue sky. Beneath their feet was a layer of needles and old leaves, interspersed here and there with patches of stubby grass and little clumps of bluebells, growing in the dappled light that reached the ground. A stream gurgled away happily nearby, winding its way through the wood, and a robin sang a cheery song on some high branch. Victor sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as as the tension drained out of him. Yes. . .he was safe here. This place, this world – this was all his own. Not even the horrors of his own dreaming mind could reach him while he sat on this log. Especially not while surrounded by the people he loved. He cuddled into Alice, smiling. "Thanks."

She stroked his hair, smiling back. "My pleasure."

Sam looked between them with a puzzled frown. "Okay, guessin' that was one of your party tricks, Alice. . ."

"Is this the same power you used to make Augustus see centipedes all over him?" Victoria asked.

"Yes, though obviously Victor got something rather nicer," Alice said with a tiny smirk. "What are you seeing? I'm not actually privy to what's going on in your head when I use this."

"A forest," Victor told her. "Kind of like the one near Burtonsville, but less – gray." He glanced up at the sky. "It's daytime, but don't worry, we're sitting in the shade."

Alice snorted. "Good. I think me bursting into flames would be against the purpose of this little mental trip."