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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

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Genji Heavy Industries (Part 9) Majesty

Chisei simps come and get your FOOD Come and get your FOOD.

The female Deadpool is panting. Her tongue flops over her extended mandible like a dead thing. She lies on the floor unable to lift her head. Her hair lies around her face like a dark shaggy curtain. But still she reaches out and swats a red dot. She’d pursued this red thing through the hall, jealousy preventing her from letting any other curious ones from claiming her prize. And yet she still didn’t have it.

Her claw lands on the red dot and it appears on top of her hand. She tries again, still failing to capture the red dot.

But before she could let out a hiss of frustration, a gentle touch fell on her head. She didn’t notice the human walking up to her as she was focused on the red dot. Her muscles twitch but before she can turn around and strike at the attacker, the touch turns into a massage on her scalp.

MC, you remember how it felt to be gently and lovingly caressed like this. The Female Deadpool made a significant dent in the numbers of beasts in the room and you felt she deserved a small reward. Like you, she was born to be a killer and had no affection shown to her in life. So you figured affection would be a nice thing to feel in her last moments. She makes a little noise, almost like a whimper and her jaw drops as she stares, vision focusing beyond the red dot now.

You press the muzzle of the mercury core pistol against the back of her head and pull the trigger. For the deadpool, it was a flash of light and oblivion. The beast falls flat, the pattern of her black blood making a fountain shape that extends out from her head.

Your laughter fades back into a cold sort of boredom. “That was fun, while it lasted.”

You step over her body and shoot down at her hand, neatly severing the nearly foot long serrated sickle shaped claw. You pick it up.

Caesar strafed as he advanced, closing in on the shaded wall in the center of the hall, with Deadpool gathering on all sides. In their eyes, he and Zihang were like two dishes that were ascending to the table on their own. .A Deadpool approached Caesar from the side while Caesar's fire was focusing on the front. Caesar did not even turn his gaze. Chu Zihang dashed up with a bayonet and stabbed it. The Deadpool closed its hands to block. The gun went through its palm bone. Not only did not have a painful reaction but fiercely closed his hands to hold the gun’s muzzle. Chu Zihang leaned down and charged, forcing Deadpool back with his gun, when Caesar pulled out the Colt pistol that was etched with the words "Western Watch" from his waist.

Western Watch fired like a thunderstorm, large-caliber bullets landing accurately into the abdomen of the deadpool, and then they exploded. The splash of mercury inside the bullets was heated by gunpowder, and the air filled with mercury vapor. The scales of the monsters who were splashed by the mercury became pale and then fell off, and a greenish-white mercury scar appeared on their skin.

"Wow! The Japanese weaponry looks more useful than the Academy's mercury core bomb!" Caesar was quite surprised.

Chu Zihang nailed the Deadpool to a column with the enhanced crossbow through the hole Caesar punched through its abdomen. The mercury was eroding its body at high speed. The bayonet penetrated its chest, but it still hissed and lunged at Chu Zihang, letting the whole gun barrel pass through its chest until the barrel was covered with thick black blood. Chu Zihang pulled the bag on his shoulder, and a bundle of swords fell at his feet. He grabbed a hilt in his hand and stabbed straight through the chest to cut off the spine of the monster. The nervous system is the weak point. After the destruction of the spine, it was finally powerless and could only hang there. Chu Zihang sheathed the blade waist, then drew a shotgun and returned to stand back to back with Caesar.

He turns to you. “MC! Come closer!”

Although you felt fine on your own, military discipline was too ingrained for you not to immediately obey your Senior Brother.

As soon as you turn to hurry, you’re cut off by a tall man-shaped serpent. His coil surrounds you, a foot and a half high of pure muscle, intending to keep you from running away and corral you into his strike zone. But this stupid creature didn’t understand that you weren’t a rabbit to run away from a serpent.

In the story of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, Rudyard Kipling explains, “If you read the old books of natural history you will find that they say that when the mongoose fights the snake and happens to get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures him. That is not true. The victory is only a matter of the quickness of eye and quickness of foot, - the snake's blow against the mongoose's jump, - and, as no eye can follow the motion of a snake's head when it strikes, that makes things more amazing than any magic herb.”

The golden snake-like beast lunges at you and you jump to the side, landing on its massive coil while raising your gun. The strike brought the snake man’s head in line with the barrel just as you fired. But this all seemed to happen in an instant of time.

To observers, the snake lunged and you jumped at the same time as you shot. And then you kept shooting in quick succession. You couldn’t kill the beast with your puny pistol, but the power was enough to act like a punch or a kick and you used it that way, using bullets as a fist slamming into its jaw. It recovered, shaking the ringing from its head, but you weren’t in front of it.

Snk-snk-snk.

The claw of the dead female deadpool was sharp enough and hard enough not to need the assistance of mercury. With it, you severed the beast's cervical, thoracic and lumbar spine. The creature sat back on its coil but it could no longer move at all.

You hurry to Ceasar and Chu Zihang and they stand in front of you.

Caesar emptied the six mercury bursts in the Western Watch. The smoke of refined mercury filled the hall. The fire driven wind intensified the speed of the spread of smoke. The Deadpool instinctively feared this smoke, and, for a time, did not dare to approach you. Caesar took the opportunity to do suppression fire with submachine guns.

You approached the center of the hall step by step, hundreds of deadpool around you. Their baby-like cries echoed in all directions. Countless pale human faces emerged in the firelight. Some are old and some are young. Some faces have been distorted and deformed. Some faces can still remind people you may have met in the street passing by. There are shy teenagers and mature women, but when their skulls open to reveal thorny sharp teeth, they all turn into evil spirits.

"We're like rats breaking into a snake breeding ball with leather slingshots in our hands." Caesar discarded the Sten submachine gun in his hand and also drew his Winchester shotgun.

You glance up at him and smile. You hadn’t smiled this much since you met. You want to tell him to speak for himself. Caesar was trying to use strength and force to kill these beasts, but his strength and his force were barely enough. The best way to fight these creatures was with speed and with wits.

But military discipline in battle requires absolute reverence for authority. “Yes but you are the pretty blond rat, and Chu Zihang is the scary black rat and I’m the cute one.” You feel a slight pain in your chest. “I miss Lu Mingfei… He would have been a funny rat.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s just focus on getting out of here.” Caesar shakes his head in amazement at your response. Chu Zihang shoves one of the submachine guns in your hand and you scarcely resist pouting. You didn’t want it.

In the center of the hall, the strongest Deadpool is devouring the dead. It is more than twice the size of the other Deadpool. Since the beginning, It has not joined the attack on you. It is single-mindedly dealing with the meal in front of it, first vomiting out slime to lubricate the corpse, and then slowly devouring it with large audible gulps like a snake. It seems that the group has a hierarchy like a herd of animals. The strongest deadpool are like the head wolf dominating the freshest bloody food. Others dare not share food with it. Otherwise they might end up swallowed with their companions. It was closest to Caesar and looked like a middle-aged balding man. He may have been a middle-aged balding man in life, but no one could have imagined that he could have such a large body after dragonization. His bloated belly wriggled against the ground. His swollen head and neck jiggled as it moved.

It turned its head to the three of you with what appeared to be a smiling expression, saliva dripping down. This was not the first time a Deadpool had shown an expression that approximated a smile, and it looked like it was expressing joy at the sight of food. The group of Deadpool had driven you to the center of the hall to let the strongest Deadpool feed first.

This is why Chu Zihang had given you the machine gun. There was no way the claw you were using as a dagger could penetrate this boss-monster’s fatty layer. You tuck it into your belt.

Caesar’s Winchester shotgun spewed out a dense stream of sparks, and the middle-aged balding man version of Deadpool was blasted in the face. Its upper body tilted back as if broken. Its bloated belly is still sitting on the floor.

"Baldness and bloating like this is also something I do not like!" Caesar yelled.

“I was thinking more of the disgusting vomit and macrophagy but… sure yeah… Ew, a fatty.” You mutter.

The vast majority of people would have fainted in fear in the face of the Deadpool's slight smile, but it was facing the thugs out of Cassell College. Chu Zihang drew his Sten submachine gun and expressionlessly sent the dense bullets to punch a bloody hole in that Deadpool's snake belly. You frown at yourself. There was no point in mindlessly firing at such a bullet sponge.

The bloated death servitor slowly sat up, like a sleeping human bending down to get up. Its bloated belly squirmed and boiled inside, and its body grew taller. It was only a man tall when it moved with its belly against the ground, but now it had reared up and transformed into a three-meter-tall giant, not counting the tail coiled on the ground. The tiny human body on the magnificent snake looked so incongruous, like a pregnant mother mantis.

Chu Zihang takes two swords and slowly stretches his arms forward. There is no road ahead. This is your last battlefield. All the deadpool follow their chief and also "stand". Strong tails support the sturdy upper bodies as they rear up like cobras, their height ranging from two to three meters. All around you, these trembling snake bodies are like a fleshy forest.

“Whale.” You say to yourself. Only a long harpoon could penetrate all that flesh to get to the tender parts inside but you didn’t have anything like that and the way back to the weaponry room was completely cut off.

A black shadow descended like a diving eagle and landed along the back of the chief of the deadpool with the light of a clear blue blade! Chisei Gen brought his full force down onto his twinblades, Onimaru and Dojigiri, sank them in completely, almost to the hilt, and cut the chief of the beasts from the back of the neck along its spine in a long bloody line. He violently twisted his hands and a piece of vertebrae cracked. The monster deadpool’s entire spine collapsed section by section to the floor. Chisei landed in a crouch, then he spun, Onimaru in his right hand, slicing in a flat rotating swing parallel to the ground that cut off the deadpool’s tail. The huge body completely lost support, tilted and fell forward toward Chisei. Chisei dodged sideways, still cutting at the massive beast with twin swords.

Chisei Gen had your speed and wit, but he also had strength that you didn’t have. You stared, face blank. Your eyes following this gorgeous and effortless blade dance. You sigh, eyes wide. “Woah.”

The leader of the deadpool was dead before he hit the ground. It was breathtakingly beautiful to you and you shoved your machine gun back into Caesar’s carry bag without saying a word or even looking at him. You drew your knife and ran forward leaving the two men who had been your companions for weeks. It was as if you had suddenly switched sides in the middle of the fight!

Chisei was still wearing the clothes from the document room, though his trench coat was gone. His upright and muscular body is wrapped in a bloody torn dress shirt, black slacks and leather shoes. He turns that body as you approach and you see his face in profile. It was delicate and feminine, with skin that was not quite pale, just like Z’s. A dark drop of black blood makes a tear like trail down his face. His mouth is moving, teeth flashing slightly behind pale lips, speaking a chilling series of forbidden words. The winds change and stir his dark hair as his eyes slowly blaze gold. You stop and freeze in place. Chu Zihang and Caesar are still firing their guns but Chisei is no longer moving.

The field of the wind expanded slowly, seemingly gently, with a faint violet fluorescence at the borders. The Deadpool in the field prostrated themselves on the ground with fear and trembling. Their hands pressed spasmodically to the ground, black tears of blood flowing from their eyes.

Chu Zihang and Caesar were shocked. They couldn't feel any difference, but the group of deadpool seemed to be sensitized. They knelt down to Chisei, like a defeated general facing a victorious king. The field eventually covered the whole mural hall. Chisei walked into the group of monsters with the Dojigiri and Onimaru, waving his sword along the way to cut off the head of one deadpool after another, advancing like a lawn mower. Black fountains of blood burst from their necks. The effect of Gen Chisei’s Yanling is surprisingly to make the enemy willingly accept the killing.

He glanced back at you briefly and you find your wits again. It was if he were leading you. You bounced after him like a young wolf, joining in the bloodshed with your knife, stacking up bodies in his wake, like a young chick following the example of a mighty eagle parent.

"Shit! Is this mind control?" Caesar muttered.

"No, it's not mind control, look underneath the bodies of those monsters!" Chu Zihang said.

The marble floor is slowly cracking, which means there is an amazing weight pressing on the ground. What kind of weight can crack the marble floor? A few tons or a dozen tons? What does it feel like for bones to bear this super-gravity?

You understood that these beasts were not willingly allowing you to slit their throats, but they could not resist. Their weight increased dozens of times in an instant, so heavy that it was difficult to even lift their arms. If they didn’t lie down, their vertebrae would be crushed.

Speech Spirit - Majesty, serial number 91, belongs to that category of speech spirits that have surpassed the scope of human understanding.

It was a Speech Spirit much like your own.

#Dragon Raja #Gen Chisei #Chisei Gen #Yuan Zhisheng

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elisaphoenix13 · 3 years

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A Day Of Calm

Stephen's heart warmed at the sight before him. He happened to go up to Valerie's room to check and see if the toddler was taking her nap for the day since William had yet to come back down. The teen periodically took his sister up to her room to put her down for her nap, and a story was usually involved, but it never took more than five minutes. Ten had passed so the sorcerer was curious as to why William hadn't returned to the kitchen.

The moment Stephen opened Valerie's bedroom door, he had his answer. William clearly read her a book as he usually did, but this time, it worked on the teen too. He and Valerie were curled close together and the book lay forgotten in the teen's hand which lay behind the little girl. Valerie had one of her hands clutched in William's shirt and was using his arm as a pillow as soft breaths escaped from her. With a soft smile, Stephen silently walks over to retrieve the book and closes it before returning it to the bookcase. He then grabs the throw blanket folded at the end of the bed and gently lays it over them before leaving the room as quietly as he came.

It was nice that Valerie had someone besides him that she enjoyed spending time with. Especially when he was busy. Just now he had his hands full with his Sorcerer Supreme duties so William offered to put her down for her nap. He figured he would try and get some more reading in before the inevitable chaos and sat back down on the couch after grabbing the books he had briefly set down just minutes ago.

The blissful quiet only lasted for about ten minutes of course. Stephen's only warning before the metaphorical storm was the sound of a jingling bell growing in volume before Flynn dashed into the penthouse by way of the stairs. Normally that wouldn't have bothered him, but then Emir followed the kit and chased him around, knocking things over in his attempt to catch Flynn. Athena lifted her head from the large pet pillow she was laying on and watched with a bored expression as the tiger finally scruffed the fox and carried him over to the newly made pet corner.

Emir and Flynn were such frequent visitors to their floor that it was decided that the pets needed their own corner to hang out in, and it truly lived up to its purpose. A corner in the living room that was almost bare was transformed into a comfortable corner full of pet pillows, blankets, Tibb's cat tree, some toys, and even a little curtain to make it like a small room. That last bit had been Diana's idea. The curtains were never closed but they did resemble some form of...privacy. Stephen and Tony weren't sure the animals would care about it, but the moment it was finished and it was shown to the pets, they used it immediately. Every single one of them loved it.

Tibbs was found snoozing on his tree when he wasn't wandering the tower, Athena had a pillow she used, and even Emir had one he shared with Flynn. The fox was known to use the cubby in the tree sometimes too. For now though, it seemed the kit was stuck with Emir and his pillow where the tiger had carried him and laid down with Flynn between his paws so he could groom him.

"If someone told me this would be my life five years ago, I would have laughed in their face." Stephen mumbled as he closed his book.

The elevator opened and the sorcerer looked over just as Steve and Bucky stepped off and joined him in the living room. The winter soldier looked to have bags of pet supplies and his suspicion was confirmed when Bucky reached into one of them and pulled out a bone.

"Are you spoiling my wolf?" Stephen asks and Bucky grins.

"She deserves to be spoiled." He whistles softly to get the wolf's attention and Athena crawls out of the pet corner to approach him. "Such a good girl." He croons and offers her the large bone he had procured which she takes into her mouth.

"We got something for all of them." Steve says . "Not sure how long the bone we got for Emir will last but we got him the biggest one."

Stephen watches in amusement as the couple unload the bags of pet supplies, and not only do they pull out some bones, but they also pull out some jerky, catnip, and a rope. He raises an eyebrow at the last item, but then Flynn crawls out of the corner curiously and carefully approaches Steve and Bucky. The captain opens the bag of jerky and offers a piece to the kit and Flynn sniffs it before snagging it and darting back into the corner to enjoy his treat.

"I thought he might like those." Steve chuckles and tosses the large bone to the corner for Emir. The tiger picks it up and chomps on it once he gets settled comfortably with Flynn against his side, and a loud crack fills the room. The bone definitely wouldn't last long but Emir was enjoying himself.

To Stephen's surprise, so was Athena.

"Do you think Emir would go for catnip?" Bucky asks and Stephen shrugs.

"Maybe. I know Tibbs will."

Said cat was taking his turn inspecting the new presents and when he was offered catnip, he quickly turned into a rolling mess. Tibbs flopped onto his side and rolled from side to side with loud purrs, and the smell was strong enough to garner the tiger's attention. The three men watch curiously as Emir abandons his bone to get up and investigate (Flynn decided he wanted to chew on the bone too and looked hilariously small compared to it), and when the tiger gets a good whiff of the catnip…

...he joins Tibbs in a rolling session.

Emir chuffs and rumbles alongside Tibbs' purring and all three men burst into laughter because it wasn't something one saw every day.

"What did you do to my tiger?" Scott asks and they look over at him.

"Catnip." Steve replies after he manages to calm down.

The thief laughs and walks over to kneel next to Emir and rub his side. "Are you a high kitty? How much did you get?"

"He licked up a good handful after nearly inhaling it." Bucky says.

"Where's Flynn?"

Stephen points to the corner where the fox is still trying to chew on Emir's bone and Scott shakes his head as Quill, Cassie, and Diana enter from the elevator. The girls glance at the cats briefly before going up to Diana's room to do whatever it was they normally did together, and Quill stares for a few moments before laughing.

"Catnip?"

"Yup."

The two couples find a spot on the couches to watch tv after that, and both Tibbs and Emir eventually pass out after coming down from their high. An hour passes in a comfortable quiet as they watch tv, and then Valerie's bedroom door opens to reveal both William and the little girl freshly woken from their nap.

"How was your nap?" Stephen asks them both and William blushes.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." The teen apologizes.

"You don't need to apologize. You clearly needed it." The sorcerer says as the two descend the stairs. "Would you like an after naptime snack too?" He teases.

"Might as well." William shrugs and joins Valerie at the coffee table.

Stephen chuckles and gets up to prepare their snack. Thankfully it would be relatively simple since William didn't mind sharing his favorite snack with Valerie, so he just had to make a little more than usual. Strawberries and whipped cream were taken out of the fridge and the cutting board was pulled out, but when he grabbed a knife, he realized his hands were shaking. They always shook but sometimes if they shook too much, he didn't risk using sharp knives. His hands had enough scars and he wasn't inclined to add to them.

"Bucky...would you mind…?" Stephen asks softly and the soldier looks over at him and nods.

"Yeah. Of course." Bucky joins him at the counter and carefully takes the knife from Stephen to cut the fruit.

"Just into quarters. They like to scoop the whipped cream." Stephen says as he puts some whipped cream into a bowl.

The strawberries were cut and put into another bowl and Bucky carried both bowls over to the kids and set them on the coffee table. They both thanked him and Stephen before digging in, and Valerie almost immediately got some whipped cream on her cheek. Levi got as excited as a cloak could get and swooped over with the intent to wipe it off, but Athena had beaten it to it and licked it off of the little girl's cheek. Valerie giggles and Levi's lapels sulk, causing Stephen to shake his head.

"You are supposed to be a powerful and ancient relic." Stephen huffs. "You're an unglorified nanny."

"Tea?" Valerie asks and Levi immediately perks up and flies over to the toybox to dig out the tea party set.

"Make sure you record every moment of this for the next master it serves." Quill laughs and Stephen chucks a book at his forehead. "Ow!"

A plastic tea cup followed and also hit the god's head and William almost choked on his food when he laughed.

"The book wasn't enough?!"

Stephen chuckles. "Oh, I didn't make it do that."

Flynn was quick to jump up onto Quill's lap and stood on his hind legs with his paws on the celestial's chest to be able to lick his face. Quill rolled his eyes, but clearly softened when the kit tried to make his "wounds" feel better. Emir woke up a few minutes later but was happy to only move just enough to lay his head in Scott's lap, which made the thief lay back on the floor in defeat. Scott clearly didn't want to go through the trouble of trying to push a tiger off of him.

"Duchess! Lulu is hungry!" Tony says when he arrives with the baby from possibly the lab.

"Then feed her."

"I don't have the natural equipment to do that."

"Neither do I!" Stephen almost screeches and the mechanic cackles as he walks into the kitchen to make Lucy a bottle. "That joke is getting old!"

"I'm still going to milk it for all that it's worth."

William groans.

"I could throw you off of this building and make it look like an accident." Stephen huffs. "I'll be set for life and can have Harley and Peter take over your R&D department."

"I love you too honey."

"Good thing Scotty can't kill me. Even if he could, I don't think he would want to lose access to the fountain of youth and immortality." Quill snickers.

"Honestly, it's just nice knowing that if I ever feel compelled to murder someone, I can just kill you and you'll come back." Scott says. "That's healthy right?"

Both Quill and Bucky burst into laughter while Steve sighs. While it was true, Scott didn't actually like hurting people so it would take a lot to get him to the point of actually wanting to murder someone. Stephen was pretty sure he almost came close when Cassie got hurt. That closeness was still in the "maybe Scott will string them up by their toes" level though. Quill usually got violent for him.

While Tony joined them in the living room to watch tv with the adults, Valerie was playing tea party with William and Levi, and even Athena joined. She just sat by one side of the table and occasionally took a treat from the small plate William set in front of her, but Levi actually hovered nearby with its own little plastic cup and saucer and pretended to take sips. When the kids had a tea party at the Sanctum and Wong saw the cloak participating, he stopped and stared for a good couple of minutes. He then gave Stephen a scandalous look (which the Sorcerer Supreme ignored) before leaving to the Sanctum's library.

Now he didn't pay the tea parties any mind. In fact, Stephen caught him participating in one of the sessions and Wong calmly sipped from his plastic cup before saying,

"She offered me some tea. I thought it would be rude to reject it."

Stephen definitely laughed at a later time, but Wong wasn't offended and still partook in the tea parties on the rare occasion. He would even conjure real tea and snacks and Valerie loved it. Wong was a decent babysitter but Stephen would never call him that to his face.

"Is that weed on my floor?" Tony suddenly asks.

"Cat weed." Steve answers and Bucky laughs again.

Tony looks at Tibbs when he starts to wake and points at him. "I thought I taught you better! No drugs! Emir is being a bad influence on you isn't he?"

"Hey!" Scott exclaims.

"Mrow?" Tibbs answers sleepily.

"Don't lie! I see a piece on your whiskers!"

Stephen sighs. "I would say I can't believe you're giving the cat the drug talk, but that would be a lie."

"I'm sure it doesn't even qualify for the top ten weirdest things you've dealt with." Steve says.

"Not even close."

#mama bear au #supreme family #stephen strange #ironstrange #tony stark #mama bear stephen strange #avengers

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 23

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 23 - Child Ghost

Twenty minutes later, each of the three hooligans sat on the bench in the hospital corridor in a daze, each clutching a bottle of fresh orange juice. The nurse had just scolded them for disturbing the rest of the patients in the surrounding rooms, and they all looked a little bit ashamed. A-Yan's face had some colour brought back. After drinking a few sips of the drink, he calmly said: "I c-can't exorcise it completely. I can only figure out the source of this thing. Maybe it's a good thing that it's harder to expel."

Lin Yan asked what he meant, and the little Daoist priest explained: “As the saying goes, 'He who never wrongs others does not fear the knock in the night*.' Although this girl is weak from her illness, there must be other reasons why, out of so many other patients, this thing chose her. If we can find the reason, then maybe it will leave by itself."

*(T/N: 不做亏心事，不怕鬼敲门 - means if you've done nothing wrong, you don't have to worry about any retributions.)

"It-It keeps repeating 'Why haven't you come yet?' It may be a wandering spirit who hasn't fulfilled his dying wish. His Yin energy is very weak. He probably died not that long ago."

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. He suddenly thought of Xiao Yu, and couldn't help but reveal his recent doubts to the little Daoist priest. After a long while, he turned his head and looked at the ghost next to him, and whispered: "Last time, I was only concerned about getting rid of him. I never asked him anything."

A-Yan sat curled up in the chair and listened to Lin Yan while gnawing on the cap of the orange juice bottle. He looked like a kitten. He jolted up and said: "Ghosts are divided into different categories. Today, the one here can only manifest by attaching itself to a living person and it will disappear once that person dies. However, the one that follows you is very, very strong."

A-Yan continued: "A ghost has no form at first, but if the soul is resentful and the body is buried in a place where the atmosphere has heavy negative energy, it's very likely to turn into a powerful ghost. A ghost will cultivate for a hundred years with a phantom body and, after a long time, it will develop a real body. When they have a real body, they don’t have to resort to 'bump around' like today, and they can even move around in the daytime without fear of Yang energy. They aren't so much ghosts as they are demons or animals." A-Yan clenched his fingers: " The most difficult evil spirit to deal with is known as the true body of the ten thousand clans. It requires special formations, plus needs to be done at the right time and place, so there's not much room for error. Once a part of the process goes wrong, the exorcist is likely to be drowned by the energy, go insane and instead be harmed by the evil spirit."

"L-Last time the formation was set up, Master made a fake one to fool the ghost, and he found the gap in time he needed. Otherwise, if you wanted to eliminate him, I'm afraid that you would have to gather more than fifteen boys in a Mandarin Duck Formation to have any hope." A-Yan suddenly gave Lin Yan a strange smile: "That was because he had just re-entered the world and was still confused when we tricked him. Now, I'm afraid. . . Brother Lin Yan, at this point, he should have already remembered something, right?"

Lin Yan thought back on all the things that happened at the lecture and the ghost's increasingly human-like behaviour. He was secretly surprised; was this ghost really recovering his memory? He nodded and replied, "He told me lots of things the day of the lecture. He can talk, just not very much."

A-Yan smiled nervously: "Y-Your four-pillar pure Yin is the most suitable alignment to feed ghosts. The longer he follows you, the more physical he'll become, and the more he'll remember."

"But. . ." A-Yan looked into the distance with a glaze in his eyes, his fingers tightly squeezed the drink bottle. He turned back and grinned at Lin Yan: "Be very careful."

"All I can say is that every action has a reaction, and I can't help you with anything at that point."

He didn’t know why, but Lin Yan felt that the way the little Daoist priest spoke seemed to imply something. Feeding ghosts. . . Lin Yan harshly inhaled the hospital’s air mixed with the smell of disinfectant and frowned. “Let's not talk about it. We have to save A-Zhou's cousin first and figure out the reason for the possession. Do you have to find out who the deceased is first?"

A-Yan nodded. Yin Zhou held his glasses, a little confused: "We don't have much time left. Dozens of people die in hospitals every month. We don't have time to go through each of them individually."

Lin Yan sighed: "That's no other option. Go and pull up the records of everyone who's died recently in the hospital. Maybe there's a clue somewhere."

After all, there were several people now that were exhausted from the attempted exorcism, paralyzed on the bench and not wanting to move. Lin Yan discreetly adjusted his position. Xiao Yu suddenly walked over to him, squatted down and grabbed his knees with both hands.

Lin Yan turned his face and snorted. "Weren't you ignoring me?"

Xiao Yu didn't answer. He gently lowered his head and put the side of his face on Lin Yan's knees, long hair cascading behind him like a waterfall. Lin Yan instinctively wanted to reach out his hand to touch his head, then he thought that he was probably still angry, so he put on an indifferent air and cold expression, not acknowledging him.

After a while, Xiao Yu raised his head. He pressed his hands firmly against Lin Yan's legs, stood up, turned and walked further down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Lin Yan asked in a low voice. Seeing that he didn't answer, he had to follow a few steps behind. Xiao Yu quietly returned to the door of Xiao Yang's room and went straight through the door panel. Lin Yan was full of doubts. Peeking carefully through the door glass, he saw that Xiao Yang's mother was tired from crying and was sitting on the side of the bed, dozing off with her arms propping up her forehead. The girl, on the other hand, waited by the window again in the same manner as when Lin Yan had first arrived.

Xiao Yu walked to the girl's back and patted her shoulder lightly. What happened next left Lin Yan dumbfounded. The girl with her rolled-back eyes turned around and quietly "looked" at Xiao Yu, showing a normal human on her face for the first time. The corners of her mouth were pulled downward, a look of aggravation painted clearly on her face. Xiao Yu was tall, so he simply squatted in front of the girl and stroked her hair very softly. They were talking, and Lin Yan's eyes widened. Although he could not hear them, their expressions and slightly moving lips convinced him that they were indeed communicating in a language he didn't understand.

The little Daoist priest and Yin Zhou also followed at this time. They curiously holding the windowpane and looking in. They couldn't help but be shocked by the girl's appearance now.

"She's talking to herself?" Yin Zhou was surprised: "What's she saying?"

"Mortuary language." The little Daoist said in a deep voice. "The language used in ancient rituals to communicate with the dead."

Lin Yan looked at the harmonious picture in the room, unconsciously picking at the crack of the door. He grit his teeth and indignantly thought you're Xiao Yu. At home, you're fierce and want to kill me, yet you go talk to a young girl with such a tender look. You just look at such a pretty young girl that I don’t want to let it go. Zhu Xi's Neo-Confucianist teachings have really gone to the dogs. It’s useless for you to think about it. I decided ages ago. When she's a few years older, I'll take her to watch movies and visit the amusement park. Let's see what you can do. . .

"Hey? Are you going to follow him inside?" Yin Zhou patted Lin Yan on his shoulder. Lin Yan had been distracted internally cursing Xiao Yu, and he was so frightened that the hairs on his neck stood on end.

"Holy shit, when did you get here? Were you trying to scare me to death by keeping quiet?!" Lin Yan grumbled, clutching his heart.

"Did you really not hear me talking so loudly before?!" Yin Zhou said in surprise: ". . . Why are you blushing?"

A-Yan smiled and gave Lin Yan a deep look, not making a sound.

The conversation in the room seemed to be over. Xiao Yu stood up. He leaned over and rubbed the top of the girl's head and walked out. Xiao Yang reluctantly turned and stood by the window again. Lin Yan gritted his teeth and waited outside. He internally decided he wouldn't fall for any more of his tricks considering he seemed to do them with anyone. . .

Xiao Yu had already returned to stand in front of him while he was distracted. Lin Yan turned his face away from him in anger, but Xiao Yu didn't care. He took out the memo and the soft-tip fountain pen Lin Yan had bought from his pocket and began to write.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Yin Zhou looked at the pen and paper hanging in the air and stared in shock.

Xiao Yu shoved the note into Lin Yan's hand, then retreated to stand behind him. Lin Yan looked down. The light green note had two lines written on it. The first line was a series of capitalized numbers: "Three-Five-One-Zero-Zero-Four." The second line was a sentence: "He's waiting for his father."

"Father?" Yin Zhou looked at the words on the note and suddenly clapped his hands: "Hey, I got it, no wonder it came to Xiao Yang. Xiao Yang's mother is a single parent. My uncle passed away last year. I came to the hospital to watch her overnight last week and heard her say she missed her dad and it felt like he was still there with her. . . Then what does that row of numbers mean?"

Lin Yan was also puzzled holding the note. When he asked Xiao Yu, he shook his head and didn't speak. Lin Yan couldn't help muttering, "What the hell? You touched her head and smiled for a long time without asking anything. . . It’s not because the little girl looks good..."

"A g-ghost's memories are incomplete. They can only remember what they want. It would be nice if they can remember the numbers." A-Yan suddenly opened his mouth, his eyes sharply focused towards Lin Yan. Lin Yan's face grew hot, and he hurriedly lowered his head to cover it up. He explained to him that he was searching for people, why did his mind take such a strange turn. . .

That being said, why did he always get distracted by a dead person? This isn't going to work, no. Lin Yan secretly squeezed his fist.

Yin Zhou saw that the two of them were acting strangely. He crossed his hands behind his head and looked around in the corridor. When he saw the computer in front of the nurse on duty at the staircase, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he whistled frivolously: "Look, dude. Time for some fun."

With Lin Yan's girl-pleasing good looks and Yin Zhou's series of honeyed compliments, the three stooges quickly got their hands on the nurse's sister's computer. Yin Zhou stared at the screen intently. His fingers flew across the keyboard and the mouse clicked rapidly. After 15 minutes, the corners of his mouth stretched upward. His whole body suddenly leaned back in the swivel chair. He squinted his eyes and exclaimed: "Done. Turns out the info comes from this hospital. Makes it much more convenient not having to check other systems."

Lin Yan leaned in front of the computer, and the homepage showed: "351004, Zhou Jintian, male, 11 years old, died on May 11. Cause of death: internal organ rupture causing extensive abdominal hemorrhaging." A scanned copy of the body claim form was attached below. In the lower right corner where the family members signed, the family name was written in two large characters: "Zhou Mo" with a small red seal next to it.

"From the deceased's information from the database, this line of numbers is the bed number from the morgue." Yin Zhou touched his head: "This ghost is a child. No wonder he's standing by the window all the time, waiting for his father to pick him up from school."

Lin Yan took a picture of the page with his phone. He smiled and pushed the back of Yin Zhou's head: "Good job."

At the spicy and sour noodle shop across from the hospital.

Lin Yan always disliked eating near hospitals. He always feels that there were grieving patients’ families and infectious bacteria floating everywhere, but these spicy and sour noodles were particularly famous. Lin Yan drove the car for a while, and after a lengthy internal struggle, he turned back. Lin Yan scooped a spoonful of spicy soup and was satisfied that a delicious dinner was definitely worth it.

The little Daoist priest left for a shift in the restaurant where he worked. Yin Zhou stayed in the hospital to see the patient and verify the information. Lin Yan sat alone at the snack bar, a greasy orange plastic table with two bowls of spicy and sour noodles in front of him. One was placed in front of him, and the other was pushed to the opposite side. The "person" only he could see was sitting in the opposite chair with his face turned sideways in a daze. It seems that the ghost really didn't need to eat. Lin Yan sighed and asked in a low voice: "You don't eat or sleep, you follow me every day, aren't you tired?"

Xiao Yu ignored him. His slender fingers propped up his chin, and the outline of his side face looked very beautiful in the dimming daylight. The table was near the window, and the warm yellow halo of the street lamp brushed over the bridge of his nose. His skin looked as fine as porcelain. It felt like porcelain too, icy cold.

Things were still awkward.

"Excuse me, can I borrow the chair? We don't have enough." A childish male voice sounded and Lin Yan raised his head. A boy dressed as a high school student was holding the back of Xiao Yu's chair. He saw Lin Yan looked confused and pointed to the boys and girls chatting at a large table next door. The girls were wearing heavy makeup, the boys wearing ear studs, their school uniforms covered in black and blue pen doodles. There were so many people in the store that they were missing several chairs.

"Someone's using it." Lin Yan replied quietly.

"I know you've been sitting here for a while, no one's there." The boy was unyielding.

"If I say someone's there, someone's there, and if they aren't there now, they will be later." Lin Yan was a little impatient.

"Nutjob, it's just a chair, why so angry?" The boy muttered. Before leaving, he rolled his eyes at Lin Yan.

"Sorry." Lin Yan mumbled to the boy's back. He wasn't sure why. No one could see Xiao Yu, which always made him a little anxious. Lin Yan hesitated and for the first time took the initiative to reach out and touch Xiao Yu's statue-like fingers and whispered, "It's lonely, isn't it? Of all the people in the world, I'm the only one who can see you and I treat you badly."

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei #danmei novel #bl novel

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dilfbatman · 4 years

Note

mayhaps hc’s about percy as a kid 🥺

i love baby percy he’s the light of my life and reason to be 🥺

—

- baby percy was a force to be reckoned with you can’t tell me that little percy wasn’t an absolute hurricane with legs! he’s bouncing off the walls, running his heart out, and is canon to be strong even as a little tyke - he’s a powerhouse, a cute cuddly one at that, and is the source of sally’s happiness (his bright green eyes, constant messy hair, and blue bandaids are a staple in regards to baby perce!)

- i think little percy was someone who maybe not a lot of people would talk to but who people wanted to be friends with! to some he seemed hyper and funny, to others he seemed cool and protective, and to some they thought they could mess w him but what they didn’t gather was that little percy ALWAYS stands up for himself and others and can pack a mean punch which would then lead him to the principal’s office - sally would chastise percy but he was so earnest in that people were bullying him and a few other kids so he HAD to stand up to them and do something about it! and sally was never mad persay, she was just worried that percy would get really hurt or he’d really hurt someone else (he never truly hurt anyone that bad, he just gave a few warnings and those kids never bothered him or those kids ever again)

- i think sally put percy in a lot of sports as a kid so he could channel his energy and rage into something productive - you name it percy has done it! taekwondo, karate, sambo, ballet, gymnastics, baseball, lacrosse, soccer, basketball, track & field, and ofc swimming! somehow he was an ACE in all of these (especially swimming) and he was considered a child prodigy (shout-out to his innate battlefield reflexes and for just being a cool kid tbh)

- as a kid and even now he’d struggle w dyslexia & adhd and teachers thought that he had a very vivid imagination as he’d see monsters and creatures but no one would believe him :’( so he adopted a tough facade and could be a class clown when he wanted so instead of kids and adults thinking he’s “crazy”, they’d think he’d be telling tall tales for the fun of it (but him & sally always knew the truth)

- like i said before, little perce is a powerhouse so it just so happened that during field trips and in class his emotions would get the best of him and sometimes a classroom would flood, a pipe would burst, and the water fountain would spew out water like crazy - most often percy was afraid that it was HIM that did it but then he thought that it’s not like he’s some superhero, these were all just... flukes and coincidences ofc! (note: they were not - he’s just that powerful and unhinged even as a baby boy) and since he could never really control his anger/rage/annoyances i think as a kid it definitely was a frequent occurrence - and i do think that sometimes baby percy created earthquakes and was often the main reason why his school had plenty of earthquake drills

- on a more sweeter note hehe :’) i also think percy as a kid would do his homework at his mama’s sweet shop! he’d take candy and sally would feed him a bunch of sweet treats if he did his homework and went to his tutoring classes (listen all he wanted was some candy and cake and cookies and he cannot be blamed he is absolutely valid and i love him) and sally would make sure he had a glass of water or a water bottle with him at all times bc not only did it provide healing properties, strength, and calm - it’s also important to HYDRATE!

- something i hold near and dear to my heart is that as a kid during valentine’s day baby percy absolutely got tons of valentine’s <3 he’d go home and devour all the candy while sally smiled and kept all his lil cards in a box for safekeeping! baby percy loved the holidays bc there’d be a parade! sally would always make time on halloween to dress percy up as a baby guppy and take pictures of him walking around and making lil fish faces <3 fun fact: sally has kept every single card, project, paper, whatever it may be that percy has made and safely kept in his box because she wants to remember these things and hey he’s a demigod (he may not know it yet, but she NEEDS these things so she can just remember him)

- not to be sappy but i do genuinely think that a lot of percy’s goodness is innate and yes sally has absolutely taught him well and lead by example but i do also think that percy is just genuinely GOOD. he’s kind, empathetic, protective, caring, honest, earnest, trustworthy, respectful, intelligent etc... you name it that’s HIM! all he wants is for him and his mom to be happy and safe and even as a little kid he thought it was his job to protect everyone and it was until sally sat him down and told him that she loves him so much but she wants him to look out for himself too! he’s so caring and sweet and he tilted his head and looked at his mama and sally thought that god he looked so much like his father and he carried the better parts of poseidon’s personality and she was just hit w a burst of love and she hugged percy so tight and cried happy tears and percy did too bc he’s absolutely a mama’s boy and loves her more than anything in the world entire world and he gave her his signature grin/smirk with the most bright eyes and said that he loves her THIS MUCH (he put his hands all the way out) and sally said she loves him THIS MUCH (she put her hands all the way out) and they did their secret special handshake and hugged it out and they’re just the softest more pure and genuine mother/son duo i love them and i love him!

#percy jackson #pjo #GRACE THIS IS SO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY I JUST GOT SUPER SOFT 🥺🥺🥺#baby percy loml my HONEY!#asks #percy jackson headcanons #he’s BABIE FR 😳🥺#grace tag #thank you for indulging me grace 🥺

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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years

Text

Take Me Home Now

Chapter Two: The Violence Causes Silence

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

"I never thought I'd see the mighty M-77 in the flesh, let alone hold one," the graveled voice silique over Mary's bedside, pointing the weapon harmlessly at the wall miming the clicking of the trigger with a soft pew. The corner of his wrinkled smile pulled tightly, white teeth freed in a short chortle.

"The damned thing almost killed me too!" The tenor of his voice booming across the room drawing momentary attention to himself.

Amber eyes returned to the woman that breathed gently beneath the single sheet covering her, "if only the shot were better. It's a shame to see a beautiful weapon mishandled."

The Commander's eyes shot open, "it's not a toy."

"A toy it is not," he countered softly in direct contrast to her gruffness, "it's a very serious weapon. Hard to get a hold of unless you have the right channels."

"Or the wrong ones."

"You've got me there," he murmured gently, "but I don't have you pegged for that type."

"What do you know about me?" The statement a test.

"Next to nothing, besides your bad aim."

The relaxed manner of his statement regulated the growl in her throat into a gentle rumble. The man at her bedside was a strange sort of familiar but annoyingly endearing. Probably the sole reason he wasn't knocked aside and that she was not halfway out the door. Well, if not for the half dozen other figures and said man possessing her weapon. It would have been easier to continue her ruse, eyes fluttering closed at the thought.

The figure chuckled, "your acting is as terrible as your aim. If you think that can fool me."

He gave her the time to shuffle upright, allowing her the space needed to feel out her scalp. Fingertips gently touching the tender ring left inches about her right ear, pale lips turning into a nearly imperceptible frown. He resisted the urge to clap on comforting hand on her shoulder and to pull her in. While he would never ask a woman's age, he guessed her to be in the same group as his son. The same burden rested in her eyes as had his son's: one among many he mourned for. Among the many, each around him mourned for. The war well over, but not without a hearty cost. This strange camaraderie drew him to this stranger.

"Military brat?" The guess was easy enough; she held herself uptightly. Besides, only a trained soldier could walk out of that hideout with barely a scar.

"No, but enlisted at eighteen. Parents were colonists, the Alliance-"

The awkwardly heavy tube vibrated in her weak arms, adrenaline crashing as the reality of her situation caught up with the teenager. She was fucked. Not fun fucked, but her life was about to end fucked. It hadn't even moved the Batarian she had struck with all of her might. The ill-placed blow barely skittered against his pauldrons.

The alien turned slowly, a sick smirk crossing his strangely wrinkled skin.

The creature yanked the metal tube from her grasp, Mary by some miracle, was fast enough to avoid the arc of his wild swing. Her mother and father went down with a thud. Mary somehow undaunted rushed forward without thought; just inches from the alien, she was yanked backward, a knee cruelly pushing her into the tile floor of her kitchen. Unseen hands pulling her hair and head upwards.

"You'll remember this, human," the voice hummed, twirling the pipe around the elbowed end pointed at the ground. Nudging the groaning male at his feet.

The first motion was a blur of blood covering the kid's face, running and spraying into her screaming mouth. The splitting of the second skull started and ended in silence.

The intrusive memory required a shake of her head to stave off; she had not thought of that event in years.

"I joined the Marines, did a few tours. Ended up here for the final conflict," Mary gulped down, trying to finish off with a change of subject, "you?"

Whether or not he noticed her foray into another realm, he didn't act as if he had. "I had retired years ago, but with the Reapers coming to Earth, it was my duty to return to service."

There the conversation ended. A long minute of silence passing between the two parties.

"So, what encouraged you to take out a raider encampment alone," he pressed with misplaced joviality.

The Commander stumbled, balked, "I wasn't alone."

You're fucking pathetic.

Pain seared across her cheek, requiring her hand to assuage it.

"Oh," he winced behind the soft utterance, "you did something good, recruit. They were an absolute menace-" He stopped, sensing the words fell on an empty mind.

But he was determined not to let this conversation continue in such complete disarray, "I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier; I'm Roy."

"Roy?"

"I hesitate to go by a formal chain of command, and I'm not entirely sure if," he paused, attempting to clear this without sounding like a power-mad dictator, "communication since the Reaper threat has been sparse at best. My men have, and I have been operating by the seat of our pants for months. We heard London was the final push, by little more than rumor mind you; upon arriving we had failed to connect with head brass before the threat had mysteriously been defeated. Obviously, order has yet to be restored."

"What's the status report?"

The old man gave her a slow grin, "Comms are down, and with so many grounded on Earth, supplies are hoarded. Some Alliance and Council Forces are trying to keep the peace, but that is problematic when food, shelter, and ammunition aren't exactly plentiful. Some are... preferring to act selfishly."

"I suppose it doesn't take much to stir up old grudges," she remarked wryly, "where does that leave you?"

"We're interested in peace, rebuilding. We won't survive if we squabble now, the Reapers may have well defeated us."

Shepard shook her head, "let's hope some of the others share your integrity."

Some legacy she left behind, bringing together most of the galaxy just to have it crumble moments after the greatest threat was over. They were meant to be the best the galaxy had to offer.

"Who are you?"

A failure if the first snappy comment in her mind was to be believed. She didn't want to be Shepard at this moment. Mary didn't feel up to the name, to the adorning praise she had received, the lofty and quite impossible accomplishments she had earned. Shepard had saved the galaxy, but she couldn't save a mother and child. She was the part that had killed 304,942 Batarians. The countless others caught in the crossfire and the ones that she had failed impress with the gravitas of the impending culling. Selfishly, the loss of her crew weighed heaviest; what were a few souls compared to a few hundred thousand others?

Shepard was too heavy of a name.

Shepard didn't deserve this pathetic fate.

Shepard should be dead.

"Jane."

"Jane?" the man mocked impetuously.

The joke was on him. Mary was hardly any less generic. Instead of a response, it earned the old man a slow eye roll. One practiced from years of reacting to the impressed way most reacted to her first name, with the legacy "Shepard" held a boring name wasn't expected.

With a sigh, 'Roy' propelled himself upright, first glancing over the men huddled in the far corner, then to the door. He stalked away without a word, leaving Jane in his wake. Weaponless and quite confused.

"Well, aren't you getting up? I have something to show you."

Catching her before her mouth could form the words, with a frown, she pushed from the cot. Throwing a tentative glance at the men as she picked a path around them. They seemed to pay her no mind but nodded at the older gentleman as he walked by. The group had a couple of guns between them, but they were left against the wall. Close but in no obvious state of threat.

"That worried about little old me?" she mused in the three quick steps to catch her guide.

"We did find you in a raider base," his grin drew across his wrinkled face slowly, "but it was the supplies I was worried about. We hold a tentative peace."

"Peace, with who?"

If Jane had waited another moment, the noise from beyond the balcony would have answered a now pointless question. She strode to the ledge, overlooking the huddled masses. The number was easily under fifty souls, comprised mostly of humans -omitting a few asari, one salarian, and two turians in the mix. They huddled in small groups in the large courtyard provided by the open-air mall. A circular fountain, now placid, took up the center of the space, but only the Salarian lingered by the stagnant water running their hands over the clear surface of the water.

"How long ago were the Reapers destroyed?"

"A week."

"How long have I been here?"

"A day and some change."

Jane nodded, gripping the railing, "you're lucky this place wasn't destroyed."

"That's a word for it, damned lucky; the place has an atrium," he settled beside Jane, "beside our luck, we need to figure out how to feed everyone quickly."

"Although the Turians will still find a way to complain about their grub," she remarked cooly," then I brought a Quarian onboard, and I never heard the end of it."

Roy regarded her throughly, his curiosity was piqued, but he wouldn't push it. The woman had things she wanted to hide, and he would have to accept that for the time being. For now, he let her contemplate, allowing her the moment to hold something resembling a smile. Let the hardships of the situation come back slowly; neither of them needed the reminder of the losses they had endured. It would only get more difficult with time.

"Just don't leave out the east end. It makes this paradise just a little less idyllic."

Jane looked at him curiously but dropped it, "did you bring these people together?"

"As I said," he stated with a nod, pushing away from the balcony and beckoning her with a wave of his hands, "we arrived as what I could guess was the final push. There were a few wandering, dumbstruck. Others, like you, needing help."

He clipped down the frozen escalator, "I lost a lot of men getting to London. My unit of fifty quickly turned to fifteen, and we were lucky. Rather than join the intense fighting, we rounded up who we could. We've held out here since. It's becoming necessary to leave more often, but it's also getting more dangerous."

He rounded into the large chamber, with Jane on his heels.

"Lieutenant."

The sentiment echoed around the room, and the dulled faces brighten considerably. The other races with practiced coolness played at aloofness, though he had their rapt attention. The woman with him was a nobody, a newcomer, but he was important to each body in the room.

"LT?" Jane murmured, catching a moment of his ire.

A small figure streaked for the man, immediately whirled into the air with a fluidity she hadn't believed the man capable of. The girl squealed, clinging tightly to his thick neck. Her giddy laughter feeling out of place in the dower mood that stagnated around them. Jane looked away from the exchange, uncomfortable with the child. She wasn't exactly the kid sort... or one that should be left unsupervised with one.

Finally tired of being thrown about, the child put her hands on his cheeks, growing deathly serious, "I'm hungry, do you have food?"

Her parental figure admonished her from afar.

"Remember, we only eat when it is mealtime," he spoke gently to the mousy girl, setting her down promptly, "you'll grow too fast if you eat all the time. This old man can hardly lift you as is!"

"Fine," the child puffed, "only because I like playing with you."

The girl's eyes bored into Jane, giving the woman a cross look before returning to her disappointed Father.

"Why bring me here?"

Jane finally spat out, angry that she had been played. Angrier that it was working.

"I'm not above a little manipulation to get you to stay," his gaze remained on the girl, only slowly returning to the blue-eyed woman behind him.

"You can't know I won't fuck this up," she returned solemnly, "or be sure of who I am."

Roy's face hardened, "be practical. What will you do once your gun runs out of clips? You don't have armor. You don't have food."

Jane glared at him sharply, but was it being told no or being presented with logical advice that bothered her more?

"Go, if you like. I won't stop you," he shoved the gun into her hand, "I really won't. But neither can you come back."

"I-"

"Or you can try it out for a bit, get your bearing here. It's better than rotting or ending up with a bad crowd," he breathed out sharply," and don't start with that bullshit all over again. If you have that gun, you obviously know how to use it... and I could use, need, someone that can handle a gun. The rest can wait."

His change of tactics was noted, if she had tried to guess what sent his words reelings she would bet on regret. It was the first concrete sign of pain she had read from the man. It clouded his judgment of her, of whatever he thought she could do to help him. To help the community he was building. It was a noble pursuit; for that reason alone she had to take herself from it. Those around the Commander had the habit of getting killed.

"I'm not-"

"Cut that shit too, Recruit! What you've done previous to this point isn't important to me. Nobody gives a shit about your record- what you can do now matters. Being alive later for whoever claims your sorry ass is what matters."

#mass effect fanfiction #femshep x kaidan #shenko #mass effect #mass effect spoilers #take me home #fanfic #kaidan alenko #commander shepard

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felismiscellaneous · 3 years

Text

Casonverse Expo

ok so after you see this you Cannot save it. the whole thing about the casonverse is that its solely “oral” and memory based. i cannot write down “rules” to it or anything. this post Will be lost to time and youll just have to deal with that

ok so. we begin. our story. w/ an explanation on how ectobiology has been going on earth c. basically, every once in a while to increase genetic diversity, a babeh between two of the original founders is created randomly, and said founders get to decide if they want to adopt that babeh or not.

now its been a very very long time on earth c and all of these bitches are immortal. yep. every single one. even the non godtiers, they get an immortality boon for winning the game. you know whats also a boon? all of the players getting revived. yep. every single one. because this is my au and i can do what i want.

anyways as i was saying basically at some point a babeh between john and karkat is made and this time theyre like “yeah ok well adopt this one” SO. they be goin there. and the ONE TIME they decide this is the right time the baby is fuckin BROKE. the internal organs of trolls and humans dont mesh very well when the genes are combined in the ectomachine, and this baby is basically just dying very slowly. this baby isssss Casey! well, shes not named that by her parents, but well just call her Casey for now.

john and karkat do their fuckin best to keep this thing alive but her tiny baby body is completely dysfunctional. and doesnt last very long. This is Traumatizing for Everyone Involved. anyways!! a pretty long time after that we have Cason and Jones. they were spawned at the same time. Jones is rose and kanayas horrible ectospawn, and Cason happens to be another equally horrible spawn between john and karkat! they decide to adopt this one, and fortunately it lives. This was Their First Mistake.

but before we get into Cason, lets get into Jones. Jones is,,,, very socially awkward. in fact, she often comes off as creepy to everyone else. this makes her very clingy towards her mothers, who arent That terrible at parenting. theyve got quirks, but theyre good for her. Jones doesnt really have any friends, except this Totally Cool and Not at All Dangerous cult she gets dragged into! this is the second secret shes ever kept from her mothers. the first is that shes the one who keeps bringing snails into the house. Jones likes snails, but shes not good at taking care of them. she just keeps bringing them into the house and feeding them her snack. her snack is rat poison. snails like and digest rat poison safely. snails! she likes them.

ALSO APPARENTLY SHE CAN SEE GHOSTS???? yeah lets get into that. see, Casey becomes a Regular Ghost after she dies. not a dream ghost, just a plain ol ghost. and anyways, shes around the same age as everyone else if not a year older due to Ghost Rules now, and Cason is the only one that seems to be able to see her. and then theres Jones. Jones is absolutely stunning to Casey and yes she falls so hard in dokis. but Jones is trying to ignore the fact that she can see ghosts. it makes her feel like even more of an outcast. ooooo drama! anyways those two have their own background plot going on about fighting eldritch gods or something idk.

LETS GET BACK TO CASON. see. Cason. is The Worst. like, genuinely. ever since he was a kiddo, he was a completely spoiled brat from day one, and spent his childhood Looking Down on People for multiple reasons. for one, hes the son of TWO FUCKING FOUNDERS AND RAISED BY THEM, two he got away with EVERYTHING, and three i think its just in his nature. Cason prides himself in being knowledgeable and better than everyone else, but he is not like Other Egomaniacs((tm.))

Cason doesnt necessarily care about being liked, even if he WAS a great manipulator, or being the best at Everything. he couldnt care less about sports or popularity. all he wants, is Control. just like hes had since day one. This is Terrible for Everyone Involved.

but most terrible for anyone, is Tippie Piyjon. Tippie is terezi and nepetas ectospawn, which, really started it all. now, terezi and nepeta are not horrible people, or even necessarily horrible parents, but theyre just not suited for it. Tippie raised herself on romance novels and the like, especially after being sortve taken in as a goddaughter by karkat almost immediately after she was born. and, because of this, she got to meet Cason very early on. there was hardly ever a day where the two werent around eachother, whether they liked it or not. in school, at their own house, wherever. now, being around Cason of all people all the time, meant you knew exactly how he operated.

and well, Tippie figured that, maybe, if she was just good enough, she could change him. and Cason used that to his full advantage. the two became moirails, which was Fucked Up for Everyone Involved, and grew ever closer. now Cason, being Cason, was Extremely Emotionally Abusive to Tippie. she had to do what he asked, whatever it was, even if it wasnt morally right, she had to stay by his side, she couldnt cry in front of his parents, she had to get good grades so he wouldnt look bad, so many damn things she had to do. even if he never once laid a finger on her, her mental health was, slowly but surely, chiseled down.

every attempt at defying him was met with such coldness, or hed act more warm towards her, so surely she was doing something right and had to keep going. just had to be good enough. hell get better eventually. Cason earns the title of #1 Gaslighter Extraordinare. the only place she found any solace away from him was grubscouts, which she joined on her own terms when she was very young, and at the time was a camp counselor even! this lasted. for so many years.

Cason is nineteen whenever i depict him, and Tippie is seventeen, but very nearly eighteen. eventually, she cant take it anymore, and snaps at him. usually this doesnt last, and he would manage to calm her down eventually, but shes fucking Tired of it. he hasnt changed. not even a bit. well. Cason cant have that, now can he? the first time he lays a hand on her, he slaps her across the face. Big Mistake. though terrified, Tippie lashes out, and claws Casons left eye out, making a terribly deep gash that would leave him permanently blind in that eye whether or not he got treatment.

this scares the SHIT out of her, and Tippie runs off, for the first time, to her mothers. as she cries, she recounts how terrible everythings been and how she didnt mean it and shes sorry and- theres nothing to apologize for. its very clear, that they shouldve stepped in sooner, shouldve noticed something was wrong. meanwhile, Cason crawls home to his own dads, who are rightfully spooked seeing their son with a horrifically bloody face and a gouged eyeball. they only had a second to try and comfort him, before he snapped at them, showing a bit of his true nature to them for the first time, and also, terezi showing up behind him. after a thorough explanation which was mostly just a few stern, if a little tearful words, Casons parents are completely mortified. karkat quickly kicks him out in an act of raw emotion. no chance to grab clothes, or for john to interject, Cason is left outside, alone, and with absolutely no power left. what will he do?

theres also other characters but theyre like babies so they dont have much characterization and also arent very important to the story. but here they are ig:

owen, jade and daves child. hes like, 3. he likes sticks and playing in mud. hes 3 what more do you want from him

siyren, aradia and feferis kiddo. shes like, 6. she likes ballet, arts and crafts, and being snooty

damien, eridan and solluxs kid. hes 10, likes calling people slurs over xbox, and overcompensating since his parents waited so damn long to adopt him after his slimebirth

killer, who named himself, aradia and sollux kid. hes like 11 or something. he likes being edgy and has the same issue as damien. in fact, all but siyren have this issue

toga bitch, who i have currently yet to name, aradia and eridans kid. shes 12. she likes earth rome and chilling in public fountains. a burgundy whose violetkin

wemon wemon, who is also currently unnamed, feferi and eridans kid. hes 13, the oldest. he likes earth lemon demon and horror special effects

carrie, feferi and solluxs kid. shes like 11, likes dance dance revolution and earth 9s

rosie, calliope and roxys bab, whos a baby. jane is also her mom

ben, tippies far future carapacian bf, who likes boring shit like birdwatching and scrapbooking. malewife supreme. a very soft dude, and just wants to help his gf w/ her trauma and join her grubscout troop on earning badges. just a great, if boring guy

notkonyyl, just as unnamed, a notcanadian oliveblood who enjoys going to the gym, frequenting bars, being cool, flirty, and defending her moirail to the death

notkuprum, haha unnamed, is a human, and the moirail to notkonyyl. he likes things like being annoying, flirting with everyone taller than him ((most people)), the nintendo switch, and defending his moirail to the death

#casonverse #long post #very long post #homestuck #tw abuse #tw eye trauma

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dnd-vigilante · 3 years

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The Five Moving Dualities

The Ten Domains are paired together in Five Dualities. The Dualities are chained together through the Feywild, constantly moving in opposition to one another and creating Ley Lines.

Magic and Soul

All mortals have a Soul, which drives their creativity and choice. The soul is the potential of all beings. Magic is that potential made manifest; all acts of creation and destruction are acts of Magic.

The Domain of Souls is a repository for the spirits of mortals who are awaiting reincarnation in the mortal realm. As new life is created, souls flow from the Domain into the physical realm. As life is destroyed, souls filter into the Ethereal Plane, where they are drawn back to the Soul Domain, thus completing the circle of life.

The Domain of Magic is a shining beacon of power, radiating arcane energy that flows freely into the Feywild, filling it with strange wonders. It is capricious and considered the most difficult to master by any single Divinity.

Life and Death

Souls have the opportunity to shape reality when they have Life. Death is the exit of the soul from the physical realm. This cycle drives time, and is the inexorable force that drives reality.

The Life Doorway flourishes the hex it inhabits, creating springs of vitality. Look for the pale white apple trees rumored to heal those that eat their fruit. The Domain itself is an unstructured, vast landscape of light. Scattered miles apart are the remnants of the Astral Plane and the bones of the Planets (Gods) and Stars (Angels) that once lived there.

The Death Doorway spreads like a disease when inhabiting a hex. Town wells dry up, crops die, people get sick. Be warned, the apple trees that grow here are not what they seem. While red, juicy, and delicious, those that eat them will become cursed.

Nature and War

Nature contains the building blocks of Life, drawing Souls into the physical realm by giving them a home. It represents bounty, balance, birth and nourishment. The Elemental Planes have been reabsorbed into this Domain, save for the Fire Domain (see: Fire Fountain). War is the eternal struggle of Life, the grinding of the elements under the weighty choices of the Soul. It represents struggle, survival and decay, making way for new and potentially stronger life.

The Nature doorway’s hex pours the domain’s power through the land, revitalizing soil, healing sick animals, and increasing the growth of all plants. Any hex that benefits from Nature domain will be sure to have a lavish harvest that season. The doorway manifests as a massive creature native to that hex, roaming the countryside. Placating the creature with food and it will open its mouth for you to enter.

The War Doorway’s hex draws conflict. It warps the flora and fauna within to become perfect hunters and survivors, pushing anyone who enters to the end of their endurance. Creatures grow and evolve in accelerated struggle. The fight does not end within the doorway of war. One that enters the war domain is plagued by a blood-lust none has seen on the prime material. Your urge for battle rivals that of barbarians of legend, for the very spirits that dwell here are those that you learn only in folk tales.

Chaos and Law

Souls use their lives to make choices, wielding magics great and small, and from those choices emerges either order or disorder. Order and disorder are the shapes of choice.

The Doorway into Chaos is unseasonable and filled with sudden dangerous weather changes. Animals uncommonly act as if under the effects of Confusion. Nothing stays in place as the land itself is thrown into turmoil. These are the things that strike a hex occupied by this domain. Describing the interior of the Chaos domain would be pointless. It is a new, harrowing experience for every visitor as it forms and deforms in incomprehensible ways.

The Doorway to the Law Domain is a massive arch of stone. The hex that it occupies shapes itself in intricate patterns: trees move into rows, mountains become perfect peaks, and animals hunt, feed and are born in perfect rhythm. The interior of the Law domain is a fractaled maze of infinite order.

Knowledge and Trickery

Knowledge is the effort of the Soul to be understood, to communicate their choices to others. Trickery is the struggle of communication, either through misunderstanding or deception. Truth is the communing of Souls, whereas Trickery is the contention of souls.

The Knowledge Domain is an infinite library, possessing all the books of consciousness as well as recordings of all oral and literary texts. The books of consciousness record every creature's stream of thought.

The Doorway to the Knowledge Domain resembles an ordinary library door with a small return slot next to it. In order to enter, a book (any book) or transcript must be inserted into the slot. Only then does the door permit entry.

The Hex the Doorway is in witnesses a profusion of learning and inquiry. Any sentient creatures begin to learn at a rapidly increased rate if the Hex is mostly inhabited. Should the Hex be more wild, uncommon or rare truths present themselves more readily to those few sentient creatures who reside or are passing through the Hex. Furthermore, those creatures comprehend what they observe.

The Doorway to the Trickery Domain changes every time it manifests and never repeats the form in which it manifests. The Doorway manifestation never appears openly, it is always either hidden or made to appear impassible. Only those who know of the trickery in advance or who are somehow able to see through the Trickery are able to locate the Doorway. Randomly, or luckily, finding the Doorway is a one in a million chance. Those who have previously been to the Domain of Trickery will be able to recognize signs indicating the presence of the Doorway that others can not recognize as anything other than meaningless scratches or natural patterns.

The Trickery Domain resembles a giant wardrobe, stretching endlessly for miles. All manner of clothing, accessories, and footwear clutter the passageways of the Domain. Each item is linked to exactly one person on the outside realm. While wearing an article of clothing, the wearer is transformed into an exact copy of the person the article corresponds to, with all current knowledge, mannerisms, habits, etc. of the original person. Each article of clothing is marked with the corresponding person's name.

The Hex the Doorway manifests in causes all creatures to both be subtly more adept at Trickery, while also causing all creatures to be susceptible to guile.

#world building #Vigilante Gaming #dnd #domains

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years

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For A Greater Good 10/18

not my gif just the text (Feels Like Home)

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

“I snuck out some tea from the kitchens.”

Kate left two teacups and a teapot on a small table in a corner of the first floor of the library.

Corentin raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not my first time.” She sat down in front of him with a small smile and nodded, letting Corentin serve the tea.

“Well... how’s life as a librarian?”

“Busier than it might seem. I’m constantly learning. So, I hear you’re a teacher now.”

Kate wrinkled her nose and took a sip of her drink.

“Attempt to be... with poor results. Let’s change the subject, I need to think about something else. Tell me about yourself.”

Corentin drank from his cup and looked up, pretending to think.

“Let’s see, I have a sister, Arlette, who lives in Lyon. She is an artist. That painting over there is hers.”

Kate turned and twisted her neck to see the painting hanging on the wall. It was a tree among mountains of snowy peaks with long branches that, instead of leaves, hung tiny books that opened and closed.

“The landscape changes with the seasons and the books come and go from the canvas according to the flow of the library books.

“Your sister is a genius.” She commented, admiring the painting.

“I will make sure she never hears that; we must not feed her ego.”

Amidst her laughter, Kate gasped and Corentin silently admonished her for being too loud.

She reached inside the cape and took out the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

“At last. Something more suitable for your age next time, perhaps?

“It took me a long time, I know, I didn’t have time. But I think I’ve understood. You told me that the key to Grindelwald’s power was in this book. And one of the stories caught my attention.”

“Well?”

“The fountain of fair fortune. Three witches and a knight are chosen to make a wish to the fountain of good fortune. On the way, they encounter different challenges. They must deliver three things: the proof of their pain, the fruit of their efforts, and the treasure of their past.

The librarian patiently drank his tea while Kate spoke.

“Leaving aside the moral, if that fountain were to come into existence, did Grindelwald manage to find it to ask for power? And the experiments he was doing here in Durmstrang, were those sacrifices?”

Kate stared at Corentin, excited by her reasoning and waiting for his approval.

“I like the way your mind works, but you’ve got the wrong tale.” Kate deflated and finished what was left of her tea in the cup.

Corentin raised an arm and a scroll and a quill flew at them. With graceful fingers, he drew a circle on the paper.

“The resurrection stone.” With three lines, he wrapped the circle. “The cloak of invisibility.” And finally, a single straight line crossed both figures. “The Elder Wand. They are called: the Deathly Hallows.”

Kate’s brow jumped to her hairline thinking about the column in the courtyard, but then she looked at Corentin in confusion. “Do they exist?”

“You were willing to believe that there was a fountain that grants wishes, weren’t you?” Kate shrugged her head in agreement.

“I know that Gellert believed in them and that he spent the time here in Durmstrang looking for them. And I have the impression that, some time later, he found at least one.”

“The older brother’s wand.” Corentin nodded.

“The mark on that column has nothing to do with him. People began to associate him with it, and he never denied it.”

She sighed and looked up at the centre of the tower where the enormous chandelier hanging high in the air sparkled.

“Williams. You must understand that if you tell this to anyone, you will look like a fool. No one believes that they exist because they have never been found.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because you asked me and I’m telling you what I believe.”

They continued to drink tea in pleasant silence while Kate thought about the importance of this new information.

Nothing that Corentin was telling her served her well in her mission and, although it was true that curiosity got the better of her, the whole thing was a dead end.

Just before she was about to return the tea set to the kitchens, Corentin stopped her.

“I don’t know if you know this already, but there’s a greenhouse behind the castle.” Kate’s eyes rounded. “Flavia wasn’t using it, but you might be interested.”

“Corentin, you don’t know how happy you’ve just made me now.”

“And Kate... do you want another piece of advice?" She nodded, "be the teacher you wish you had.”

A greenhouse. A greenhouse that no one had told her about. It was a mistake on her part not to have insisted on it.

This was exactly what she needed: having something to put a little green in her life, to feel the earth in her hands, to water flowers and to see them grow.

After sneaking back into the kitchens to return the teapot, she went to the place Corentin had indicated to her right by the lake.

It was quite far from the castle and it was abandoned, Professor Hodges didn’t use it for her classes, and that showed in the students’ knowledge.

With a look full of hope, she ventured inside the building.

She walked through the rubble, full of broken pots and dry leaves. The plants that were there were dead except for the ivy that had worked its way through the broken glass on the roof.

“I must cut that down.” She muttered to herself.

She ran her hand over the wooden table. It was in good condition, not a single splinter, and the varnish was practically intact. It was big enough to teach all the children at once.

She inspected every cabinet and drawer, taking inventory of the material and equipment she had. She could give a decent lesson with those instruments and was looking forward to that.

She looked around once more and, filled with joy, she was soon trying to put on one overall she found over the dress. Luckily, it was loose enough.

After making a bun with a rubber band, she armed herself with a pair of pruning shears and a ladder and climbed up to the glass roof to get rid of the ivy which covered the inside of the building.

The hours passed, and the morning turned into evening faster than she would have wished. For the first time since she had been at Durmstrang, she felt at home.

From the top of the dome and with her wand between her teeth, she admired the colours of the sky. It looked like a freshly painted canvas, one of Badeea’s paintings.

She was mesmerised for a few minutes, during which she began to feel the effects of a whole day’s hard work. She massaged her thighs and threw away the last branch of ivy she had in her hand before going back down into the greenhouse.

She picked up her wand and with a wave of the hand all the crushed glass on the floor flew to their rightful place, recomposing the roof and walls.

The broom that she had bewitched a few hours ago rested beside the mountain of leaves and dust that waited to be picked up by the door.

Kate looked at her work with satisfaction, and though it might have taken much less time to restore the building completely with magic, the manual labour also restored her spirit and soul.

She circled the centre table and headed for the flowerpots in the closet at the end of the room.

She decided that removing weeds and changing the soil was part of the experience of learning herbology, so she just removed the dust and cobwebs to save her students some work.

Her students. It was a curious phrase. She had never seen herself as a teacher. It was Rowan who did that work, not her. After seeing the essays that they had done, she had no hope of improving her teaching skills until that point.

The opportunity to be able to interact with the plants they had been studying would perhaps make them all less miserable and might even get them to learn something. Getting them to be interested in the subject was going to be a more laborious task.

Charlie would be a brilliant teacher, with that infinite patience he has, she thought.

A wave of melancholy washed over her unexpectedly.

Oh, how she missed him. It was usual to go for an entire day without seeing each other, or speaking, each one busy with their respective work, but both knew that the time would come to meet for dinner and share their day amidst laughter and kisses.

Now that was impossible.

As she let her mind torture her, she had not realised that she had begun to stir the soil with her fingers and that in turn, all those thoughts were channelled into the pot, making a small orange flower grow. She was startled to feel the warmth of magic in her fingers reaching the flower.

Her eyes suddenly blurred, and without being able to avoid it, one tear after another ran down her cheeks and made their way down her throat.

She sniffled and then grunted, feeling stupid. She wiped her tears with her sleeve and with a sad smile, picked up the flower that had reminded her of Charlie to keep it between the pages of her journal.

Just as she was picking up her coat to leave, the door to the greenhouse opened.

Too early for the moon to appear, the light coming from the castle was not strong enough to identify the figure that had just entered, so she approached the table with a quick ‘Lumos’.

“Professor Angelov!”

The secretive transfigurations teacher was startled to hear his name. It was clear he didn’t expect to find anyone there.

“What happened here?” he sounded strangely offended, even though Kate had done in one day the work that should have been done in months.

“I repaired the building. I plan to use it for my classes,” she hesitated to criticise Durmstrang’s teaching system to a professor, but her mouth went ahead of her brain and she wasn’t quick enough to stop it. “as it should have been done.”

Angry eyes shone in the light of her wand.

Kate put aside the reason for Leron’s visit to the greenhouse and focused on deciphering his anger. Even her legilimens skills couldn’t figure out its origin. She could only pick up confusion and... fear?

Angelov did not bother to say another word to her and with a movement of his cloak, which reminded Kate of her former potions teacher, he strode out into the night.

The next day, Kate decided to put to good use the new and improved greenhouse and took her students through the grounds of Durmstrang.

“I think you’re going to love this. Well, at least I’m excited.”

She waved her wand to keep all fifteen books in the air as she walked down the path to her students.

There was a lot of grunting and snorting when Kate told them they would not be in the classroom that day, but she was convinced that a little natural light and playing with dirt would change their mood.

“We’re almost there. I know you were bored the other day, and so was I, so...”

Kate stopped in front of the glass building and showed it off with her arm outstretched.

Several students exchanged glances, others stared at her, waiting for instructions.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Are we going to have a class here?” asked one girl.

“Indeed, Dana, we’ll do three hours a week here: one on Wednesday and two on Friday, what do you think?”

“That this place is dangerous.” Said Jon Hopkins.

“Ah, but that’s not true anymore. Come on, let’s go inside.” The sparkle in her eyes went unnoticed by the students who, skeptical of the change of scenery, entered behind her.

Kate surrounded the long central table where she left her books and headed for the end of the room. She waited for everyone to finish looking around and pile in with her.

“Lesson number one: safety. In that cupboard over there there are overalls for everyone, I’ve washed them, of course, so take one all and put it on over your uniform. There are also protective gloves. Take a pair too.”

Michael Angelov went to the table and took out a scroll to write something down. One of his companions looked at his writing and began to laugh.

“Are you going to write down everything she says?” The others laughed with him.

“Who knows, it might be an exam question. I recommend that you do the same. Memory can be treacherous.”

As they reluctantly left their bags and backpacks, the speech continued.

“You are responsible for your new work clothes. We will use potions, spells and dangerous plants, the suit will protect you and it is vital that you wear it. If someone is not wearing the suit, they cannot enter; if someone is not wearing gloves, they cannot enter and I will be very strict about this”.

She indicated that they should sit around the table, each on a stool.

“Lesson number two: know what materials are available. In the drawer in front of your seat there are: a small shovel, tweezers, garden shears, a spray and a brush”.

She left a moment for everyone to rummage through their drawers and continued.

“You are also responsible for the material. Before and after a class everyone should check that they have everything and put them in the drawer. I want you to write down the date and the list of your material.”

Everyone was silent, clearly confused about what they were doing. Kate went around the table, giving some directions and helping those who seemed to need it.

“Lesson number three: know what you are going to do.” As she waved her wand, the books placed on the table flew to each student.

“Today we’ll focus on the first part of Lesson Five: recognising soil types. This was part of the last test, and it’s clear that I didn’t prepare you enough for it. It’s important that you know how to do this because it’s fundamental. Make a note of the purpose of this practical class. I would have liked to do this earlier, but... that’s the way it is.”

As the children opened their books and whispered to each other, Kate handed out a tray with three small pots of different types of soil. Each with a label with a letter: A, B and C.

“Try to identify the three pots with the help of the book.” She said when she finished.

“Ah!” a little girl, Greta Eberhardt exclaimed. “There’s something in my pot!”

“It’s called earth, silly.” Replied her partner.

Kate came over to inspect Greta’s tray. Something bright blue was buried. She took one of the tweezers from the table and pulled it out.

“It’s a billywig. See the wings coming out of its head? Don’t worry; it’s dead.”

Not only did the wings catch the children’s attention but also the long, pointed sting of the torso.

She stared at the insect for a long time and looked up when it became silent in the greenhouse. Such discipline cannot be healthy, she thought, as she saw them reading or sticking their fingers in the pots without looking up.

“How quiet you are... I never said that you cannot work as a team.”

That evening Kate sat in her room drowned in pieces of parchment, both her students’ work and her notes from her mission.

She returned her attention to Vivien Argar, the name that was written on top of the paper, and sighed when she noticed that her assignment was two parchments longer than it should have been.

Kate put her quill down and pinched her nose, her thoughts returning to the Order. She considered Kent Jorgensen and wondered what kind of business he had going on with Leron Angelov.

Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions, letting her suspicions cloud the logic, but she could have sworn that they left the Great Hall together when Astrid Rhode was giving her speech. She never confirmed it.

Several taps on a glass caught her attention.

A red bird was standing outside the window and demanded to enter the room.

“Fawkes?” She hurried to the window and opened it, allowing the phoenix to enter. He circled her and screeched while she closed the window again.

“I know, I know! How demanding…” Kate grabbed a blank piece of parchment off the floor, made a ball with it and set it on fire before conjuring it to be suspended in the air at ground level.

Fawkes cuddled up near it and let out a grateful tweet.

“What do you have in there?” She said, noticing the roll of paper that Fawkes guarded in his claws. She tried to grab it but Fawkes hid it between his feathers, opened his beak and stayed that way for a while.

Kate rolled her eyes and walked to the closet to look for the small bowl where she kept a roll of spellotape and some quill tips.

She emptied it and conjured some water before bringing it to an impatient Fawkes. He lowered his head in a small reverence and extended his open claw for Kate to inspect.

“Always want something in return, huh? It is true that pets are like their masters…” Fawkes huffed and sipped from his water, ignoring her.

She unrolled the tube to find two pieces of parchment. The first one had a short sentence.

Trust him in the woods.

“Great. I didn’t have enough with what I had.” she complained out loud.

She unrolled the second paper, but to her disappointment it was blank.

She left the parchments on the bed and sat down at her desk again, trying to resume her work, but Fawkes got up and flew to her shoulder. He bit a strand of her hair and tugged.

“I don’t have anything for you to eat, Fawkes.” The phoenix ignored her comment and kept on pulling at her hair until she turned around.

“Alright, that’s quite enough!” Fawkes flew to the bed and stood on the blank parchment, tapping it several times with his beak.

Kate took a deep breath before approaching the bird.

She grabbed her wand and pointed at the paper before murmuring ‘Revelio’.

A black line started to appear, drawing an uneven path that rounded the parchment and ended in the same spot that started. A cross appeared in the upper corner of the deformed oval. It wasn’t a circle or any geometrical figure; it looked like…

“A map.” she whispered. The question was, a map of what? The figure consisted in a single contorted line. There was nothing inside of it, just a cross. She turned around again and winced at the sight of her desk. With a flick of the wrist, all the pieces of parchment of the table flew around to settle down in tidy piles on one side of the desk.

She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

With only one candle flickering in the room, the darkened atmosphere made her want to close her eyes, and she did, letting her exhaustion take over her.

[Part 11]

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff

#charlie weasley #mc #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #hphm #charlie x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley fanfiction #kate williams #durmstrang

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years

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LadybugOut - Rose’s Stand

For @miraculouscontent‘s LadybugOut AU.

How about a little Rose perspective?

Rose Lavillant wasn’t the sort of person who had problems. She was a generally cheerful person who tried to focus more on the positives going on around her whenever she could.

But sometimes, it could be…tiring after a while. Especially when conflict tended to last for an extended period of time.

Like the others, Rose had been amazed when Lila had first appeared. She had done so much and been to so many amazing places. Her stories were always fun to listen to. But she couldn’t deny that over time, there was an unsettling feeling that started to blanket the class, and despite what some of the others believed, it wasn’t even necessarily due to Marinette or her dislike of the other girl.

It felt like something that had been building up over time. Lila’s arrival had been part of it, sure. But there had been other things—small and seemingly unimportant that Rose had been noticing. But she brushed it off. Partly it was admittedly due to her rose-tinted view of life. But there was also the issue that Rose simply didn’t know the full extent of what was going on and couldn’t make a clear judgement until she did.

That was why she never jumped on Marinette when she countered Lila’s stories. It was why she listened but never fully encouraged those very stories. It was why she tried to be supportive of both sides when the argument first came up over that picture that Alya had posted of Ladybug and Chat kissing after Oblivio. Rose didn’t know, but she still wanted to support her friends.

Unfortunately, there were just some things that no measure of support could really help. The class ended up divided between those who sided with Alya about the picture and those who disagreed with her putting it up without context and without making sure she had Ladybug’s approval.

Rose could see both sides. Like others, she adored the idea of their superhero duo becoming a couple. But at the same time, if Ladybug wasn’t okay with it, she could understand why the photo would be upsetting.

And it seemed Ladybug was indeed NOT okay with the photo or its implications if the sudden creation of her own blog, LadybugOut, was any indication.

Alya had not taken the news well. Especially when Marinette had appeared as an assistant in making the blog.

Class had been rather…tense for a while since then, to say the least.

As a friend, Rose wanted to support Alya, but she didn’t see why the Ladyblog and LadybugOut had to be mutually exclusive. She loved all of her friends and of course admired their resident superheroes. How could she just take sides? How could she only support one?

So Rose did as Rose always does. She supported her classmates to the best of her ability regardless of which “side” they were on.

She reassure Alya of her blog’s standing and the good work she had done before then. The Ladyblog had been the original go-to, after all. But it was no reason Ladybug couldn’t have her own personal blog as well to share the things she wanted shared.

And why not? The LadybugOut was amazing! It wasn’t just about Ladybug and her life. There were active akuma alerts, which was useful and expected. A Tracking feature to know where Ladybug was when engaging an akuma so they would know where not to be. But the surprise came in the additional tags. Feel good posts? Self defense? Relaxation techniques?

When they first appeared, she was surprised. And rather excited! Positive posts were always Rose’s favorite thing to see online and of course she was overjoyed to see Ladybug posting and sharing more. But this went beyond that! This was prevention. This was defense. This was a widespread exchange of information on how to protect themselves and how to be healthy!

It…made her a bit giddy, to be honest.

Ladybug wasn’t just trying to control the flow of information like Lila suggested. She was actually sharing important tips and tricks, not just in dealing with akumas but also the stressors of daily life that akumas tended to feed on. There was so much useful information available that it would be downright silly to ignore it, regardless of the reasons.

And then there was the added feature. There were ways for them to submit information and be involved! They were able to try and catch or track the butterflies before they possessed anyone. They could send out an alert directly to Ladybug. This was...they could actually HELP. Ladybug was giving them the chance to help her and Rose couldn’t have been happier. This was…

This felt like the first real bit of control she’s been offered.

For the first time since Hawk Moth started his campaign against the city, she was being told what she could do to protect herself. Whether from an akuma or from becoming one herself. Not just to be positive or not get upset, but actual ways to handle her emotions. Not just to hide or try not to be a target but actual ways to ensure her own safety.

This was Ladybug telling them that they didn’t HAVE to be akumatized. They didn’t HAVE to be victims. They couldn’t help how they feel but they didn’t HAVE to be overcome by it.

Why not make use of the techniques Ladybug was teaching? Her reasoning was sound and the skills she displayed were indicative of her own ability. Like many in Paris, Rose had believed Ladybug was immune to akumas. That she had a power that protected her or that she was just that amazing. Rose never considered that Ladybug could be a person like the rest of them who has to try just as much—if not more, given her role—to keep her own feelings under control. Ladybug explained it in her videos, and Marinette had even backed the claim and confirmed that it had worked for her. To think that Marinette had almost been akumatized twice was scary, but knowing she had been able to fend it off each time was…inspiring.

If this was what Ladybug was doing to protect herself and it worked, and if she was sharing it to help everyone else...then why not use it?

Rose had been scared for a while now. Waking up after being an akuma was a terrifying experience. Not knowing where she was or why she was there. Knowing that something had happened but not having any memory of what she had done. And if Chloe and Heroes Day were any indication, it could happen again to the same people.

That was…not an experience she wanted to repeat. As much as she had appreciated the chance to meet Prince Ali, Rose still had nightmares about the things she might have done while an akuma. And the events of Heroes Day only made it worse.

The Ladyblog had helped somewhat with that—mostly by documenting what had happened. It was useful, but overall, the Ladyblog had been information. The biggest source of such information about akumas and what they had done. Photos and videos and theories. Data that…admittedly wasn’t always fully compiled and complete when made available. It would mention when an akuma was active and what Ladybug and Chat Noir were doing, which was helpful and in some ways retraumatizing. But the rest of it was mostly fan-contributions. Things about Ladybug. Photos. Fanart and fanfiction even. But not actual means to protect themselves.

So to find out that there were ways of preventing an akuma from getting to her once more—even if she became as upset as she had been the last time she was possessed—was a relief. She took in every one of Ladybug’s tips and strategies. She watched every video on self defense and practiced the moves regularly. She watched the blog for updates on a daily basis.

Her and Juleka had even made it a part of their regular hangout. Taking an hour to practice the relaxation methods and various self defense techniques. When Luka had found out, he had even offered to help. Rose felt somewhat guilty that his helping often ended up with him on the floor due to being their “akuma” to practice on, but he took it all in stride and even offered a few tips of his own.

Rose had taken it all to heart, feeling all the better for it. And while a part of her felt guilty that she couldn’t fully commit to a single side, she was all the more committed to helping her friends as much as possible.

She had wanted to help her friends.

That was all she had wanted.

She never intended to get in the middle of their conflict.

She had never meant to add to any of it.

She certainly had never had any wish or desire to be the proof of one side over the other.

But akumas never really care about what anyone else wants. And the akuma who had trapped her in a corner only seemed to care about making her the latest of his victims.

It had been another day planned with her friends before the akuma appeared. She didn’t know what he was supposed to be or what his powers were—just that he was there and that he had barged in between her and her friends, leaving Rose on her own, cowering and backed up by the fountain in the park.

She saw Juleka staring in horror from the other side of the courtyard.

She saw Luka looking for something to grab to try to attack.

She saw the akuma sneering and raising a hand towards her.

What she saw next was mostly a blur of colors as she allowed lessons she had ingrained and her own muscle memory to take charge in a moment of panic.

Voices whispered in her head—Ladybug’s calm instructions and Luka’s soothing guidance walking her through the steps she had committed to memory and already knew by heart.

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

Grab his wrist.

Shift to the side.

With the other hand, grab his arm near the elbow.

Turn her body so her back was to his and twist his arm in the process.

Put a foot behind his and destabilize his balance.

Bend her legs and push out her hips to force him off his center of gravity.

Pull him forward—

And OVER!

The few bystanders still present watched in shock as a little blonde girl just flipped an akuma over her shoulder and right into the fountain.

Now that she was free and he was down, Rose immediately took off to her friends, heart pounding and brain screaming though not nearly as loud as her friends had been because did she really just do that?

Rose didn’t care—she didn’t care in the moment, she had just wanted to get away and get to her friends and get to safety. She reached them and felt their hands grabbing her and pulling her forward and further out of danger and all she could think of was that she was safe—she was safe they were there she was safe please let her be safe!

“It’s okay, Rose! You’re okay!” Juleka’s murmurs helped to reorient her and all Rose wanted to do was cry but the akuma was still back there!

And suddenly she was only with one friend instead of two because Luka had charged forward to the akuma with his guitar in hand in the absolutely wrong position for playing and what was he DOING?!

He cautiously approached the downed akuma while holding his guitar like a weapon—no Luka, don’t do that! You’ll ruin it!

Rose and Juleka couldn’t speak. Nobody could as Luka reached the fountain where the akuma was lying still.

Luka, for his part, observed the scene with a keen eye. He took in the position of the akuma’s body against the fountain. He took in the state of the fountain itself. The crack in the surface and actual chunk of material that had broken when the akuma hit it head-first. The water spilling around the akuma. Despite all appearances of the figure before him, he was wary for the slightest hint of movement.

There was none.

He nudged the akuma a couple of times with his not-supposed-to-be-a-weapon to make sure before glancing back to the others.

“I think you knocked him out.”

Rose squeaked. Juleka hugged her tighter.

Several calls went out at that point. For rope to at least try to bind the akuma until Ladybug appeared. To the police to inform them of the situation. And of course, to LadybugOut to let her know where to come.

When Ladybug arrived at the scene minutes later in response to an akuma, it was quite possibly the first time she didn’t have to fight. She was initially confused by the small crowd of people waiting for her at the edges of the park, but they weren’t controlled. Instead, they called her over—“The akuma is here! Over there!” They shouted and pointed.

She wasn’t sure if it was a trick at first, but sure enough, there was the akuma, laying sprawled right at the fountain and completely unconscious. When she approached the group, Luka of all people was the one taking charge and thankfully explained what had happened.

“The akuma tried to go after Rose.” He informed her quietly once she came over. “She was cornered against the fountain and couldn’t get away. Next thing anyone knew, she’d flipped him and completely knocked him out.”

Ladybug gasped at that. “Rose did?” It wasn’t that she didn’t believe it could happen, but that Rose would do that to an akuma? It was a bit of a surprise.

He gave a small laugh. “I think we should thank you. She and sis had really been taken with your blog. Those self defense videos you’d been putting up came in handy.”

She blushed at that. Sure, when Marinette had decided to start trying to put up videos and guides to teach self defense, she had wanted people to be able to protect themselves. She just hadn’t expected it would work out like this.

She was…kind of proud, honestly.

Luka shrugged, a bit bemused. “I know we shouldn’t have stuck around but he wasn’t moving and we wanted to make sure you knew.” He rubbed the back of his head, nervously. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not really a good idea for civilians to get involved like this, but…”

“I understand.” She said, smiling kindly and reassuring. “I’ll take it from here.”

It was by far the easiest akuma fight she’d ever had. Insomuch as there wasn’t really a “fight”. The akuma was still completely out of it when she approached and a quick search found the possessed item. With a snap of the item and a flick of her yo-yo, the butterfly was purified and the akuma restored to his normal self. Fortunately, the Cure undid the damage—what little of it there was to the fountain and the akuma—but the former victim was still taken in by emergency responders to get checked out.

“L-Ladybug?” She turned to see a still panicked Rose in the company of Luka and Julka. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Ladybug rested a hand on the other girl’s shoulder in reassurance. “It’s not your fault, Rose.” Ladybug told her, kindly. “You didn’t try to go after the akuma. He came after you and you acted in self-defense.”

“But…”

“Rose, you were forced into a bad position and you defended yourself. You did what you had to so you could get away. And you did great. Be proud of yourself, because I know I’m proud of you.”

Rose blushed at that.

“I know we’re not supposed to go looking for akumas or get in the way, and I don’t want to cause you trouble.” The blonde told her, nervously. “But I…I really appreciate your blog. It’s done so much for us when you’ve already done more than enough. So…I just…” Rose smiled. “Thank you for helping me to protect myself. And for showing me that I could.”

“You’re welcome.” The hero told her, warmly. “Above all, just stay safe.” She said this to all three of them, seeing their smiles in response before turning to leave.

“Bug out!” And with that, she was gone.

Rose clutched her phone to her chest, practically glowing.

It had worked. Ladybug’s techniques and shared knowledge had worked. Rose had protected herself. She had saved her friends.

Thoughts of what might come later didn’t register. She didn’t think about how by that evening, her image would be in the news. Or how Alya might react when she saw her the next day. Or what this would mean for herself and her desire to not pick a side in the “blog wars”.

In that moment, Rose was proud. And that pride gave her a strength that could face whatever came next.

#ml fic #ladybugout #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #luka couffaine #blog wars

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casualpaladin31 · 4 years

Text

Second Chance (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Requested: No

Trigger warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence and mild language.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Beginning(n): late 12c., "time when something begins;" c. 1200, "initial stage or first part," verbal noun from begin. Meaning "act of starting something" is from early 13c.

Beginning. From where I stand right now, the beginning seems so much more tame than what I know now. Spencer would usually tell me some sort of fact associated with the ‘beginning of the world’ if he were here right now. But he’s not. If only foresight were real. And I had it’s full power of never saying what I did. Never pushing him away. But I guess hindsight isn’t 20-20. And words can’t be taken back.

~~~

April 12. Seems like a regular day to anybody. But not to me. Not to Spencer. He and I have been in what feels like an endless storm of arguments since Christmas. He and I had always been each other’s rock. Our anchor with how stressful our jobs are. I was there for him when the cases got rough and he was my shoulder when a case got way too personal. We just fit. That is, if you didn’t count the small little quirks in our relationship. One of which being my tendency to be like Morgan and jump into situations without too much thinking.

I won’t lie; he absolutely hates it. Case in point:

“Spence, come on, I can walk on my own now. The swelling’s gone down.” I complained, groaning at my tall and lanky boyfriend who was currently forbidding me from standing up from bed. So, maybe I might have gotten my ankles fractured and twisted by an unsub when I had tackled him prematurely and he and I went tumbling into traffic. No biggie. Other than the fact that one of the BAU’s SUVs ran over my ankles. Hotch didn’t see me. I don’t blame him.

Spencer rolled his eyes as he pushed me back into bed as I tried for the fifth time that morning to get up to go to the damn kitchen and eat something. “The doctor said you need three weeks of bed rest. It hasn’t even been two yet.” Spencer reasoned, tucking me into the covers of our shared bed before I could protest.

“Spence, I’ll be fine going to the kitchen. It’s not that far away.” I tried again, sitting up from the bed and pulling covers off of my body. “I promise I’m fine.”

Spencer shook his head and gripped my hands, trying to lay me back down. “Actually there is plenty of space between here and the kitchen, Y/N. The inflammation and swelling process is to remove the damaged tissue from your fractures. Your ankles can’t heal until you let the swelling complete its course. This wouldn’t have happened if you had just waited for me.” Spencer sighed again, the end of his words having a bit of a jabbing tone that sparked a sharp ache in my chest.

“What?” I asked, with half a laugh and half disbelief. “Are you serious right now? After all the things you’ve done without orders? Don’t make me list them, Spencer.” I hissed, half pissed that Spencer would even bring this part up. Sure, Hotch had given me a few weeks off due to my injuries, and I had gotten a case of major cabin fever since that included bed rest from the doctor. But that seemed to be forgiven by everyone. I still got calls from Penelope every few days to check on me for the rest of the team. But I guess this was still an issue. Even after we already had this argument.

Spencer grunted as he stood up straight again, seemingly towering over me in all of his 6’1 glory. He may be making me mad right now, but he was still my tree. And I his squirrel. If that makes any sense.

“Don’t start this please, I don’t want to argue with you on this.” Spencer tries, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I gritted my teeth and scoffed. “Then why bring it up? Especially the way you did? Why, Spencer? Why? Cause I’m itching to know.” I instigate. Not the best move on my part. As Spencer’s eyes flickered with anger. It was clear he really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. But he should’ve thought about that.

“Y/N do you really have to do this? Can’t we have one day without an argument?” Spencer huffed, running a tired hand through his hair. I roll my eyes in anger and I plant my feet against the hardwood.

“You started this Spencer, not me. I just want to know what the hell you meant by what you said.” I retort, trying to reel back my anger. This argument wasn’t going anywhere. We hadn’t been communicating. It didn’t take a profiler to see that. And it seemed all that miscommunication was coming back to bite us in the ass.

“You want to know what I meant? I’m tired of you throwing yourself into danger like that. Morgan does it, yes, but that does not mean that you should follow in his footsteps, Y/N.” Spencer says in a half accusatory tone and half calm. How the hell does he stay so calm when we argue? Even when I know he’s angry?

“Oh, so Morgan does it better than me or something? If it’s so bad, Spencer, then go scold Morgan too why don’t you? Maybe you’ll actually get somewhere with him.” I jab at Spencer, instantly regretting my comment.

Spencer is grunting with anger as he tries to formulate a response. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, Y/N! All these arguments? They never end well for either of us! If you hadn’t been so reckless maybe we wouldn’t have to be having this argument!” Spencer finally quips back at me. I widen my eyes and I furrow my eyebrows after a few moments. I open my mouth to respond before Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door a bit harshly as he does.

I scowl and scoff as I unwillingly roll back over into bed. I was so done with this constant arguing. What had happened to that spark we used to have? That perfect routine where everything just fit?

After a few minutes of sulking in my own anger I sigh. This was ridiculous wasn’t it? Sure. But I wasn’t ready to apologize yet. At least Spencer has another day or so before he’s gotta get back to the BAU. I can apologize to him before bed tonight. Can’t go to bed angry.

I couldn’t help but remember a poem that Spencer had read to me previously. It was on the tip of my tongue. I remember he had a collection of them that he liked to leave for me whenever he got home before me. Or if I left before him and I was expected to come home early. Especially when he had to work and I didn’t. It was just something we enjoyed. Well… used to anyway.

The poem was Love’s Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelly, I think. Yeah. That was it. I can only remember part of it though.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?

What happened between us? What did we do to get this far away from our paradise that we had made together?

I sighed as I recalled the poem, shifting through my nightstand and finding the small notebook paper that he had left for me on my pillow months prior. Was this relationship even salvageable? Would we ever get back to this point of love between us? Or would this rift grow ever larger, and keep us apart?

I let out a tired exhale and began to slowly get up from my prison. I hissed as my ankles began to wobble from the sudden weight. I gripped the nightstand for dear-life before I found my balance, and I started to wander into the apartment I’d been kept from for the past week and a half.

I wobble my wounded and swollen feet into the living room, gripping onto everything that I could to get there safely and without a fall. Knowing Spencer’s state of mind it would probably feed into another argument. But though all odds were against me, I made it to the couch. I plopped down and picked up a forgotten book that laid next to me. La Divina Commedia. Why am I not surprised Spencer’s been reading that?

Before I could pick the book up and even attempt to read it in it’s natural text, I hear the plop of a ready back by the front door. I sigh. Of course there’s a case. A case while I’m down for the count. My fault, I guess.

I sigh and put the book down. “So you’re leaving?” I question, trying to sound at least remotely sincere.

Spencer doesn’t even acknowledge that I’d even spoken, too busy with his bag. At least he had the manners to respond. “Yes, I am. Three women were abducted in Oklahoma. It will probably take a few days.” He says, his usual tone of sorrow for having to leave absent from his voice. Almost like he was thankful for this break from me.

I bite my lip nervously and fight the urge to sigh yet again. “Well… Tell the team I said good luck.” I say as audibly as I can without giving away the hurt pounding in my chest.

Spencer at least nods before he grabs his now full bag and exits the apartment. Not even looking at me once.

Kidnapping case, huh?

~~~

Spencer’s POV

Spencer can’t help but notice the seething anger he was emitting as he walked into the bullpen to set his stuff down before the case briefing. Morgan and Prentiss both gave him looks as he set his bag down and tried to gather what he would need for the case at hand.

“Hey kid, something… going on at home? I can feel your anger from over there.” Morgan prompts, pulling Spencer into a half head lock with his arm. Spencer sighed and pulled away from Morgan’s attempt at communicating.

“It’s fine, Morgan. Really. Did you know that couples find themselves fighting about household issues about seven times each month? A survey of 2,000 Americans, commissioned by a furniture company, found couples wind up averaging about 72 spats each year over home improvement particulars.” Spencer starts to ramble, unable to hold back his concern for the topic. At least his attitude and overall tone wasn’t deteriorating from where it had been before he left.

Morgan nodded, suddenly understanding where the conversation was leading. “Ah, so you and Y/N having some trouble in paradise? She getting cabin fever yet?” Morgan teased, poking Spencer in the shoulder.

“I don’t believe there’s ever really paradise in a relationship. A study proposed by the company Eharmony suggested that although 64% of couples are happy in their relationships, that other 36% isn’t. But that number continuously changes. And relationships end everyday over small things.” Spencer rambled again, his hands being shoved into his pockets as Morgan began leading him into their meeting room.

Morgan shook his head. “Man you got it bad. Just try to make it up for her when you get home, alright? You don’t wanna go to bed angry, you know what I’m saying?” Morgan suggests. Spencer sighed and went silent as they pushed through the glass doors and took their seats at the round table to let JJ announce their newest case.

"We've got three missing women in Oklahoma city, all from low socioeconomic classes. Danielle Jones, Katie Hurtz, and Cassidy Weirton were all last seen by their boyfriends at a party they all attended yesterday. Their cars were found dumped into the nearby river with signs of chains digging into the paint. Almost as if they were pulled into the river." JJ explains, turning to face the team.

Prentiss raises an eyebrow. "Don't they all look a little like Y/N? You know, h/c, e/c, s/c?" She brings up, slightly catching Spencer’s attention. Spencer looks up and looks at the photos currently on the screen. Emily was right. They did all look like her.

Morgan nods in agreement. "Yeah, they kinda do. I'm kinda glad you ran over her ankle, Hotch. She might've had to deal with Mr. overprotective here if you didn't." He teased, gesturing his thumb to Spencer.

Spencer raises an eyebrow and looks at Morgan in a bit of shock. "I don't follow." He asks. Prentiss shook her head and gave Spencer a knowing look.

"Come on, Spencer. We all heard it from Y/N herself when Garcia called her. You're giving her cabin fever by keeping her in one room all day long." Emily points out, teasing him a bit along with Morgan.

"Why is this important? She needs approximately 3 weeks of bedrest as determined by her doctor. I'm just trying to make sure she heals right." Spencer expressed in annoyance. Although Prentiss was definitely right. Y/N had been showing him signs of just wanting to move from the bed to the couch so that she wasn't bored from her surroundings. But she still shouldn't be moved all that much. Especially since she didn't have any sort of cast or boot to help with the healing. Only a brace.

"She isn't coming with us on this case, so there isn't any reason I need to worry, is there?" Spencer reasoned, growing tired of the teasing.

Morgan raised his hands up from where they had been resting on the table. "I guess not. But kid, seriously. Take it from a man who knows: don't fight her on this." Morgan encourages.

Maybe he was right, Spencer thought.

~~~

Three days had passed since Spencer had gone on the new case. I was absolutely and completely, lonely. And it was almost suffocating.

Thankfully Spencer had left me an apartment full of food, so I needn't worry about having to cook or, god forbid, have to go grocery shopping in my condition.

But I was tired of the four bare walls of the main area of my and Spencer’s apartment. I could only bear them for so much longer before I completely combusted from boredom and fourth stage cabin fever. So… I went out to go get a few books. What? We had crutches from the hospital. And taxis exist. So I was fine.

Besides, I knew Spencer hadn't read books from this author yet. And I was partially hoping that he would take them as mostly an apology gift and the rest just a gift. I wanted to try and get back into the swing of our relationship. Try and just maybe get back into a somewhat normal routine. Even if I was incapacitated.

I clobbered around the bookstore, my more injured foot swinging as I used the lesser to get around. There were so many books I just didn't know which ones to get for Spencer and just how many I wanted to get for myself.

One I picked up reminded me of a case that had come across my desk. The case was actually in Quantico. An unsub was kidnapping women around the ages of 20 to 35 and the bodies were found dumped into the river, raped and mutilated. But there were only two victims at the moment, and the period between them was months, so it hadn't seemed like one to worry about. I heard the unsub left a letter to each of the families of the victims. Almost taunting them. Weird how you can make connections like that in real life compared to your second one.

But eventually I hobbled again over ro the counter and heaved about 5 books up into the clerk's view. The clerk looked me up and down and smirked.

"Rough day?" He asked, beginning to scan the books into the system. I groaned and chuckled slightly.

"More like rough life." I reply, heaving myself back onto the harsh arm rests of the crutches. The man nods in understanding.

"Very true. But hey, I'm sure you'll get off of those soon and get back to your normal routine." He says, telling me my cost.

I fumble through my wallet and pull out my credit card. I hand it to the clerk. The clerk then takes it and swipes it for me.

"Do you want to sign up for our rewards program? You get a book free with every purchase." The clerk prompted. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden offer. I'd never gotten this offer when I'd gone here before. Was it new?

"Not today, sorry." I begin, taking my credit card back from the clerk and beginning to put it back into my wallet.

"It's something new we're trying. Get more customers interested in reading and stuff. And… I kinda promised my boss I'd get at least one my next shift. I'd really appreciate it." The clerk prompts again. I sigh. Would it really be that bad? Spencer might appreciate it. Getting more books for only a quarter of the price? He'd like that. Hell, I'd enjoy that. Why not?

I shrug and I nod. "Alright, alright. You need my number and stuff?" I ask. The clerk nods.

"Uh huh. Just name, number and address." The clerk says, beginning to type into the computer at the counter.

"Y/N L/N, 555-555-5555, (insert random Quantico apartment address here)." I list, piling the books up and putting them into a bag the clerk handed me.

As the clerk finished up I smiled at him. "Have a good day sir." I say as I begin my hobble back towards the door.

"You too."

~~~

I wobble on the crutches as I clop back to Spencer and I's shared apartment. I sigh as I begin to fumble with my keys. My phone drops out of my pocket as I do.

I grumble and lean over to grab it. I turn it on out of curiosity. No new messages. Nothing. Not a single 'How are you?' text. Kinda pissed me off a bit.

But instead I sigh and just type a quick, and small text.

Y/N - Hey, can we talk when you get home? I wanna make it up to you. Please.

I sigh and shove it back into my pocket. I'll deal with it later, I think.

I finally unlock my door and shove it open. When I do though, I find a letter shoved under the door. Couldn't they have put it in the mailbox?

I pick it up and shut the door behind me. I hobbled over to the dining room table and put the bag of books down, along with the crutches as I began to investigate the letter.

I don't even get the chance to fully open the letter before I'm grabbed from behind and a cloth is shoved into my mouth. Chloroform.

I try instantly to cough and spit the rag out, but by the time I do, I've already begun to breathe the gas in, and my vision began to grow cloudy and spotty.

The only thing I hear as the lights begin to fade and my capture begins to drag me away is "Good… go to sleep now."

~~~

Spencer sighed as he sat on the plane in mid thought. They thankfully were able to capture the unsub and bring him to justice before he could kill any of the girls. But something had struck him as they had finished up the case. Y/N had texted him, wanting to talk. He'd tried to reach her that night by calling her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. He didn't think much of it. She was probably sleeping. As she should be.

But still. She was right. They both needed to resolve this. Nothing was going to improve if they didn't try.

"Hey kid, whatcha thinking?" Morgan asks, taking a seat next to Spencer as the plane got ready to land.

"I think I'm going to talk with her tonight. See if we can come to an understanding. A compromise maybe." He sighed, fumbling with his fingers.

Derek grinned. "Alright, Spencer, my man!" He exclaims, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Good. I'm proud of you, kid." He says, prompting Spencer to smile.

"Thank you Morgan. I just think we'll find a better normal is all." He agrees, unable to focus on the current case report he'd just written.

Prentiss wanders over and takes a seat next to Spencer as well. "I'm glad you've decided to tame the beast, Spencer." She teases.

Rossi's ears perk up at the conversation. "Are we talking about Y/N here? Cause she's untameable." He expresses, pulling a smile onto Spencer’s face.

She really was untameable, Spencer thought. Maybe that was a good thing.

~~~

Spencer stretched his arms as he walked to his apartment. After the long and hard case they had, he just wanted to hold you and pull you close. Those girls looking so similar to you had messed with his head.

Spencer exited the elevator, ready bag in hand as he turned to head down the hallway with his and Y/N's shared apartment. When he finally stopped, he noticed the door was ajar. Weird. Y/N always had a quirk about insisting he close the door behind him whenever he entered or exited a room. So why would she leave the door open?

Spencer cautiously entered the room and saw the lights all completely turned off. Maybe she was in bed, he thought.

He flicked on the lights and noticed a bag of books on the table, and a half opened envelope laying there as well next to forgotten crutches. Spencer rolled his eyes as he noticed the books were newly bought, guess Y/N couldn't stay in bed while he was gone.

That's when he noticed the letter again. He opened it up and began to read the complete horror that met his eyes.

Hello.

I'm glad we share an interest in books. I've always liked reading. Did you know that? I've also loved (h/c) haired girls. All my life. When your (e/c) eyes met mine, I knew you had to be mine. So, please don't fight this. All I want is for us to be together. Forever.

I promise I’m not like him. Your boyfriend. I won't leave you alone on weekends with fractured feet.

Just obey me, and you'll be happy. I promise.

Love, Z.H.E

Spencer felt tears building up in his eyes. This man, this--this Z.H.E had taken Y/N. Taken his girlfriend at her weakest. And he wasn't here to protect her.

Spencer thrust the letter onto the table and dropped to his knees. You were gone. Out of his reach. And there was no telling how long you'd been gone. How long you've been in this unsub's hands. So there was no way to know if you had any chance.

Spencer clutched at his shirt and tie as he began to quicken his breathing and his heart began to pound faster. He had to do something. Anything.

Then he felt his phone vibrate. That was it. He had proof. This wasn't Y/N's handwriting. They had a case. They just had to get permission.

Spencer shook his head. Fuck the permission. He was going to find Y/N and put the bastard who took her in prison. They didn't have much time, but he was going to find her. Dead or alive.

Spencer pulled his phone out and immediately began dialing Morgan’s number, tears still streaming down his cheek.

He was going to find you. He had to.

After a few rings, Morgan finally answered the phone. "Reid? Kid it's like 11 o'clock at night. What's wro-" Morgan groans.

Spencer immediately cut him off. "Morgan, Y/N's not here. Some-someone took her. Th-they left a-a note and u-uh… they signed it Z...Z.H.E." Spencer rambled and stuttered, his voice almost inaudible from his tears and his voice growing faster with his nerves.

Morgan’s response was to be expected. "Wait, what? You serious kid? Hold on, I'll call Hotch. Bring anything Y/N might've had with her the day she got taken with you back to the BAU. We'll meet you there." Derek ushered, the sound of a TV being shut off in the background.

Spencer tried to calm his breathing, but it only got faster and harder to control. "O-okay… got it." Was his only response as he hung up the phone and pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket and began searching the apartment for any sort of sealing bag he could put the letter in for evidence. If the bastard wasn't wearing gloves, they needed to be able to find fingerprints. Not just his own.

Once he found something, he slid the envelope and the letter into the bag and sealed it shut. Once he had it, he grabbed the bag and the bag of books and began to carry them out the door.

~~~

I groaned as I lifted my head up from where it had hung for I didn't know how long. My neck ached from the change in position, and I heard a few painful pops as I moved it. I felt my head pounding. Seems like that head wound is finally giving me trouble.

I tugged at my arms, feeling rope dig back into my skin in retaliation. I gritted my teeth and began to try and use my fingers to attempt any sort of chance this asshole decided to leave the knot in close range of my hands. But alas, he didn't.

My legs were tied to the chair as well, almost tighter than my arms were. I sighed. It had been 4 days since this asshole had taken me. And it wasn't pretty. I had a large gash on my cheek, and bruises that scattered my torso and thighs. This guy wasn't subtle in his obsession with me. He needed to see me multiple times a day. And if I didn't do what he asked, he whipped me. And the guy got off from it.

I sighed, at least he decided to move me from the dangling chain prison he'd had me in the first three days. The first one he just needed to see all of me. I was just unlucky enough to wake up prematurely.

I'm glad I wasn't awake for most of it. It still hurts. Every time I close my eyes I try and focus on Spencer. His hazel eyes looking down at me with love in them, telling me it'll be okay.

But when I open my eyes again, I'm back in my own personal hell.

I sigh and look around, hoping the blood that was pooling above my eye didn't drip down into my eye where I couldn't see. I'd already viewed this whole room dozens of times. But it was something to do while this asshole lived upstairs with his wife and their young daughter. And they do nothing about it.

My eyes find the only window in this hell of a basement and I see that the light is brighter than usual. Must be noon. I can't tell. That can only mean he's going to be here soon. Gonna take another piece of me that I'll never get back.

"S-spencer…" I whimper quietly, squeezing my eyes shut as a tear builds up in my eye. If I hadn't gone out like he told me this wouldn't have happened. I'd still be in our apartment and I would've been there to welcome him home. Not here. Not with death looming over my head.

"Oh, poor baby. You seriously want him? When you have me? You've got all you could ever want and you never accept me. Why?" The most disgusting and smoke-induced sounding voice echoed into the basement.

I turn my head and glare at my capture, my right eye squinting as the blood from my forehead began to drip over it. I don't answer him, afraid he'll just beat me again for my answer. He'll beat me anyway.

He growled and pulled my face towards his, holding it harshly as he spat into my face. "Answer me, bitch! That's all you are!" He yelled, pushing the chair against a beam. I cough as my head collides with the wood.

I shake as my head slowly lifts to look at him again. "I… I don't want you… I w-want to g-go home…" I stutter. He wants an answer. But I don't want to play into his game. I feel disgusting.

He then launches a punch to my gut, causing me to cough up a spat of blood and begin to groan from my bruises. Add another bruise to the pile.

"WHY?! I am a better man! THE better man! You are mine! Accept it!" He spat, tossing the chair aside along with me. "It's like you don't even like me!" The man growled.

I groaned and began to shrink as much as I could into the chair. Why? Why me? He had a wife and a kid upstairs. A perfect normal life. Why couldn't he just settle?

The man shook his head and growled. "No. No we're gonna show this 'boyfriend' of yours just how good I am to you." He insists before he fishes through the clothes that he had torn off of me and pulled out my phone. I could only hope that Garcia could track its location fast enough.

~~~

Spencer gripped his hair tightly as everyone was scrambling to try and find some way, some connection to bring them close enough to be able to find Y/N. But they had nothing.

So far, they hadn't found any fingerprints on the letter that Spencer or Y/N hadn't left themselves. And the bag was obviously only carried by Y/N. So they were stuck until they could get another piece of information.

Morgan sighed as he watched Spencer go over the letter for what he knew was about the twelve hundredth time that night. He really didn't deserve this.

Morgan took a seat and tried to get Spencer’s attention by lightly grabbing his wrist. Spencer jumped from the sudden contact, sighing slightly.

"Nothing… After 5 hours of searching we have found nothing. All we have is a reminder of how terrible I was to her." Spencer sighed, his esteem having grown drastically low in the time that he had spent reading the letter over and over again.

Morgan sighed. "Kid, you were not terrible to her. Come on. She loves you, man. Seriously, I can see love. And she's got it for you." Morgan insists, nudging Spencer’s shoulder. Reid sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Still, the last thing I did with her was argue over her being reckless. That might be the last thing she ever hears from me." Spencer expressed, clutching harshly at his chest.

Derek sighed again and nudged Spencer once more. "Come on, kid. We'll find her. That won't be the last thing you say. The last words you ever say to her will be on your shared deathbed kid." Morgan teased. "Come on, the girl got you five books when she was supposed to be resting. If anything that tells me she loves you more than the pain she feels." Morgan chuckles, gesturing towards the bag of books on the evidence table.

Reid shrugs and looks down for a moment before it hits him. He stands up suddenly and starts shifting through the plastic bag for the receipt.

"Woah, kid. Did I say something to set you off or-?" Morgan asks suddenly, confused by Spencer’s sudden movement.

"The books! She-she would've taken the b-books out if she had been home l-long enough to put them away-" he rambled, searching and flipping through each of the books, desperately trying to find the receipt and to find some sort of indication as to when she was taken.

"Right, but Reid I don't-" Morgan starts again.

Spencer shook his head. "Just-!" He exclaims almost exasperatedly. Then he finds it. Deeply nestled into a copy of Edgar Allen Poe's greatest poems, was a receipt for four days ago at a bookstore a few miles away from their apartment.

"Found it." He whispers, smiling happily. Maybe he had a chance of finding Y/N after all.

Morgan widened his eyes. "Does it got a date on it, Reid?" He asked, getting up from his chair in a quick haste to know if they had a new clue.

Reid nodded, a few tears building in his eyes. "Four days ago. She's been with the unsub for...for four days…" Spencer sputtered, forcefully putting the small receipt down so he didn't crumple it more.

Morgan gave Spencer a sympathetic look and opened his mouth to speak.

"You're gonna wanna see this, Reid." Garcia came onto the screen, pulling Spencer’s attention to it.

"Hold on baby girl," Derek says before he rushes to the glass door that connected the council room to the rest of the bullpen. He opened the door and called in Hotch, JJ, and Rossi. Prentiss came in as she was coming down the hall.

"What is it Garcia?" Hotch asked as he came in, settling into the room and looking at the screen she currently showed her face on.

"Okay, but this is kind of… gore-y. You might not want to see this Reid-" she began, trying to warn Spencer of the video's contents.

Spencer shook his head. "Show the video." He insists. Garcia sighed, but clicked play.

On the screen showed a much less clothed Y/N and a hooded figure in the room. A single light bulb was hanging from the ceiling.

"Since princess here can't accept me, let me just show you what I've done to your precious girl." A distorted voice echoed through the video speakers.

Spencer’s eyes were wide as he was forced to watch the screen for more information on where his (nickname) was.

The hooded figure then pulled out a knife and advanced towards Y/N. Y/N herself bit back a quiver and a whimper. Spencer knew it by her bitten lip.

The figure then used the knife to cut a long gash along Y/N's left arm, before grabbing the right and cutting his initials into the soft skin that was there.

"You're mine, now. What boyfriend would want you now with another man's claim on you?" The figure growled at Y/N.

Y/N took in a shaky breath and looked into the camera. "I-I can take it. I-i p-promise. S-spencer," mouthing one word before the figure slapped her across the face for doing so.

"You bitch‐!" The figure growled. Spencer shut his eyes tightly and looked away from the screen. He could barely make out what she mouthed. Basement.

Hotch looked to Reid, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Did you catch it? The word she gave?" He asked calmly, understanding Reid's need to look away from what this man was doing to the love of his life.

Spencer shook in terror for a few speechless moments before he was finally able to lift his head back up.

"She… s-she said basement, Hotch. She's in a basement." He announces, keeping his eyes away from the screen.

"Meaning this guy could have a complete other life. And that nobody knows what he's doing downstairs." Morgan infers, Prentiss nodding towards him in agreement.

JJ speaks up next. "Sorry to burst the bubble here, but I think I found the case this unsub is connected to." She says, dropping a very thin case file onto the table.

"Two women, between the ages of 20 to 35 were taken from their homes in the mid afternoon. Yet no one saw or heard. At each of the scenes, a letter is found that is similar to the one we found at your apartment, Spence." JJ informs, sighing. "Each of the women were found two weeks after their capture dumped into the river and stripped of their belongings. With sighs of rape and mutilation." JJ says sorrowfully. Spencer’s fist tightens at his side, his eyes squeezing shut again.

He could've been there for you if he hadn't taken that case in the heat of his anger. He would've kept you from going out and attracting the attention of this unsub. But he was more focused on his anger.

"Reid, do you have anything new?" Hotch asks, jotting down a few notes to be able to refer to later. Spencer sighed and nodded.

"Y-yeah. I found the receipt from the bookstore she went to. Four days ago. It's called Zander's Stories." He says, looking up to face Hotch for a moment.

"Good. We'll head there and talk with the owner, see if we can find any employees with our profile. And if they have cameras we'll check to see who checked Y/N out." Hotch informed. The rest of the team nodded and began to get back to work.

Spencer stood up and stopped Hotch for a moment. "H-hotch, what is the profile? If you don't mind my asking." He asked shakily, his hand grasped at his sleeves nervously. He had been so focused on the letter and understanding the handwriting that he only had a portion.

Hotch sighed. "Reid. We're looking for a man most likely in his thirties or forties. Has a history of being flirtatious, almost creepily so with customers. Most likely has a wife, maybe a child as well. But never wears his wedding ring. Almost wanting to lure women closer to him. He probably talks mostly of himself and his own accomplishments than those of his coworkers. Takes every conversation as a chance to turn it about himself." He answered, giving Spencer a sympathetic look. They all wanted to find her. But they had to be careful.

Spencer nodded as he took the profile in, taking a mental note to think of any people he might know. Anyone who might've been watching them before now. But he found nothing.

"The handwriting seems to be gleeful almost in tone. A-almost as if he'd finally gotten what he wanted. Like a child sending a thank you letter to Santa for the presents they got for christmas." Spencer expressed, picking up the letter to point out the darkened graphite marks on the letter page.

"Interesting. He might've been watching her before. Have you and her been out before this? Perhaps gone to this bookstore before Christmas?" Hotch asked, gathering together the papers he had written on.

Spencer searched his mind for a moment, trying to reach as far back as his photographic memory would go to help him remember if he'd ever encountered a man that matched the profile.

"For Christmas she did get me a-a new poem book. A-and a book on philosophy. She might've visited the store then." Spencer informed, his hands gripping tightly and his knuckles turning white.

"That's it. He watches them for months in advance. He seems very organized. He kidnapped her without much fight. Even with her being injured she would've been able to fight him off if he simply grabbed her. He planned this." Hotch then grabbed his things and rushed out the door to join the others.

Spencer felt his body still as he tried to figure out what he could do. What he could say to help find another clue as to where you were. All he could think of was to try and come up with a geographical location from the different victims and the profile.

He just hoped they wouldn't be too late.

~~~

Again I opened my eyes exhaustedly. It seemed I'd been here ages. I didn't know the times between when I'd wake and when I'd pass out. But those times between when I'd wake and after I'd fallen asleep were the best. I got to see Spencer. In all his gentle and warm light.

"S-spencer… I'm scared…" I whispered, not hearing any echos of breath in the tiny basement this man was keeping me in other than my own.

I almost imagine him replying; Why? I'm here.

I choke back a tired sob. "I-i'm afraid… a-afraid I'll never s-see you again…" I whisper in a reply so hoarse and tiresome.

Again I can imagine his response, almost hear it. Don't give up. I'll see you soon, sweetheart.

I swallow a choked sob and close my eyes once more. My hope was almost gone. I'd been here so long. I knew it was at least 4 days. Maybe 5 at the most. I don't know how much I can handle his beatings. Or his possession.

I sniffle and clear my throat as I hear footsteps above me. He's coming again.

The door to the basement slams open and I jump from the sudden noise. His feet pound against the wooden stairs as he rushed down the stairs. I squeezed my eyes shut as he came into the light, unable to face him.

"You didn't tell me you were fuckin' FBI!" The man yelled, slapping me for good measure. I bite my lip and hold onto my whimper. I swallow harshly, not replying to his obvious question.

The man snarls, raising his hand to slap me once again before he stops himself. I almost let myself think that maybe by some miracle he'd grown some sort of conscience. That maybe he'd show me a little mercy. But of course, I was wrong.

The man pulls out his knife and cuts my bindings, pulling me off of the chair abruptly. He grips my wrists so tightly I was sure he'd break them if he squeezed any tighter.

He stayed silent as he dragged me across the floor, digging his nails into my wrists. He hoisted my body up like a ragdoll and enclosed my damaged and rope-burned wrists into chains, allowing me to hang there limp and tired.

"See this, this is what happens when you lie to me, bitch!" He yelled, picking up a long piece of wood he kept in the basement and thrusting it against my stomach. I sputter and cry out before I could even attempt to silence myself. I could feel my insides aching and throbbing. And the nailheads sticking out of the wood bruised my skin, almost breaking it from the force.

The man pulled the wood back and thrust it against my legs, making me whimper from the pain. The nails dug into my calves and my thighs, drawing blood from the wound. I was losing my resolve to fight and to push through the pain.

The man then brought it back to my torso, and thrusted it against me. I felt my ribs cracking and popping. Pain throbbed from my chest, and it grew stronger with each thrust I endured.

Again and again he beat me, the wood and nails digging into my skin and bruising it well. Moments later I found my eyes slowly falling closed as each thrust collided with my body.

Before my eyes could close completely I felt the wood thrust against my back, causing tremendous pain to my spine. If I had the ability I would have crumbled to the ground.

"You're gonna pay for this. You were supposed to be mine. You are not his. Mine, and mine alone!" The man growled, pointing a finger at me. I look away, only for him to force my face towards him.

"I think it's time you went to sleep, sweetheart~" he purred just as he thrusted the butt of his knife against my head, sending me back to my dreamscape.

~~~

Spencer found his phone once he heard it begin to ring. He'd been eyeing it since he'd finished the geographical map. He could only hope and pray that whoever called him would have some sort of good news. She had been missing for four days. Five now. And they weren't any closer to finding her.

JJ had gone on TV for a press conference. Try and bring the unsub out since most like to inject themselves into the investigation. Spencer had been against it. He'd seen time and time again what happened to the agents that unsubs found out what they were. Prentiss had gotten a beating for it while Reid had to stand back.

But this was the best course of action, according to Hotch. And Spencer had no choice but to agree with him for now.

When his phone began to ring, Spencer jumped in his seat and immediately answered, having seen it was Hotch.

"H-hotch, tell me you've got something." Spencer begs, not even trying to hide his worry anymore.

"Zander Harrison Edison. He's the owner of the bookstore. The employees all agreed to him fitting the profile. He has a wife and a daughter. And has been reported to flirt with a majority of the female customers." Hotch reads off. "I got Garcia working on an address now. But we need you down here. Just for when we have one." Hotch informs, his speech a little quicker than normal. He was probably hurrying out of the book store to get to the SUV.

Spencer let out an audible sigh of relief and his hand finally loosened it's tight and tense grip. "Yes, o-of course Hotch. I got a geographical pinpoint I can send her before I head out." Spencer offered as he began to gather his things in a haste to get to Y/N as quickly as possible.

"Reid, calm down. She's going to be alright. And sure. That'll help her get the address narrowed down for us. Just hurry, we don't have much time to lose." Hotch agreed with Spencer, the sound of a car beginning to start sounding in the background.

Spencer took a shallow breath and nodded. "R-right...r-right I just gotta… j-just gotta calm d-down…" he says with uncertainty. He hangs up the phone and immediately begins to head towards Garcia's office with the geographical pinpoint he had narrowed.

Spencer's feet couldn't carry him any faster than they did as he hurried towards the technical analyst's cave. Spencer hastily knocked and pounded on the wooden door much harder than he intended to, bringing an impatient Garcia from her office.

"In case you haven't heard, we're a little busy right now with a kidnapped-" Garcia began to scold before he noticed Spencer’s hurried and worried expression. "Oh, Reid. Sorry you don't...don't usually knock that hard. I'm finding the address as we speak-" she starts.

"I-i've got the geographical location, Garcia. It-" he sighed, messing with his tie nervously. "It'll help." He says, as his eyes wandered around anxiously.

Garcia nods and gestures for Spencer to go ahead. "Alright then, lay it on me my love." She prompts, turning her chair around and swerving into her desk.

Spencer nodded hesitantly and then began to detail the geographical pinpoint. "Try around the downtown Quantico area. Specifically the more suburban areas. This guy has a basement he's keeping her in." He lists off, pulling back his fingers from his fists as if counting each detail.

Garcia smiles slightly as she types. "Perfect, just imput the owner and/or the renter of the home and-" Garcia trails for a moment. "There, (Random Quantico suburban address here). Go get your Princess, Reid." Garcia insists, handing him a sticky note with the address.

Spencer took the note with no hesitation and spun on his heels towards the exit of the building. "Will do." He replies as his paces grow wider and he finds himself run-walking down the stairs instead of the elevator.

He was going to find you. You were going to be okay.

~~~

I was unlucky enough to wake up only an hour later. Thankfully, he was gone. And I was alone. I hung from the ceiling like a pig in a slaughterhouse. It certainly felt that way too.

My ankles were thankfully not chained. The cold metal digging into my wrists was enough.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, and tried to imagine Spencer once more. Maybe fall asleep again. Seeing him again seemed like a lost cause now. Maybe he'll find someone who doesn't jump into situations without thinking like Morgan. Maybe she'll bring him more happiness than I ever did. And maybe she'll get along with everybody better than I did. Maybe he'll want to marry her too-

Before I knew it tears were cascading down my cheeks. No. No, I couldn't give up yet. We've found people who've been missing for weeks. Though of course that's a rarity. But it still happens.

I'm still alive. As long as that's true, there's hope for me yet.

I heaved as air desperately tried to enter my lungs from this position. Everytime I tried to pull up enough to breathe, the harsh and rusted metal cuffs dug farther into my skin.

I hissed as the cuffs felt sharper around my wrists. I recalled the pictures of the other two victims. They too had deep abrasions on their wrists. Guess they got this treatment too.

I gripped the chains loosely, trying to give my wrists a break from the harsh edge of the cuffs. I dreaded his return. Knowing it was just going to be more torture. He'd gotten his taste of me. Now he just wanted to see me bleed.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps above me. I swallowed nervously, bracing myself for whatever he had planned for me next. But that's when I heard the thud of a door being kicked in. My heart skipped a beat as I heard it, hoping for the love of God it was who I thought it was.

Then the footsteps got quicker and they pounded against the floor above me. I heard a hurried turning of the knob to the door of the basement, before another thud was heard and a plethora of curses followed it.

My chest got painfully tighter with the hopefulness that I was saved. That maybe… maybe he'd come for me. But the pain was worth it.

The knob was turned hastily and the door opened. I still couldn't help but lose my breath for a moment. This could all be a misunderstanding. He could be coming down here to kill me.

But then I saw the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes turn the corner and break at the sight of me hanging from the ceiling.

"She's down here! I need a medic!" Spencer called back up the stairs. He then raced to my side, trying desperately to undo the cuffs.

"Y/N… Y-Y/N s-sweetheart…" he whispered, looking at me heartbroken. I swallowed hard and gestured towards the desk in the corner of the tiny basement.

"O-over th-there. T-the keys…" I whisper hoarsely. My voice must've died on me from all the screaming. Spencer nodded and quickly spun around and grabbed the keys from the cluttered desk of weapons the man used on me.

Spencer swallowed harshly as he took in the tools that lay against the wood of the desk. Many of them still had blood on them, previously used. It ached deep in his heart. He turned his head away from them and focused on her. On the only one who mattered right now.

Spencer brought the keys back towards me and quickly unlocked the cuffs. I fall into his arms and he wraps them around me tenderly. "Y/N...t-thank God…" he whispered. His large hand raised up and cradled my head. "I-i'm sorry… s-so..so sorry…" he whispered into my ear, crying as he held me.

I, although exhausted, found a smile pulling at my lips. "F-for what? F-finding me?" I teased, trying and failing to put my feet on the ground.

Spencer slightly chuckled and pulled me up farther into his arms. "N-no… not that…" he sighed, pulling me as close as his arms and my body would allow. "Don't put your feet down. Your ankles are still fractured sweetheart." He slightly teases back. I let out a small, tired laugh.

"S-spence…" I whisper. "P-please… did-" I begin to ask hesitantly. He nods. "He's been taken care of, Y/N. He's in our custody now. I promise." He says, gently caressing my cheek.

I lean into his touch and sigh in relief. Soon after, Morgan comes down into the basement and almost scares the shit out of me.

"Thank God…" Morgan sighed in relief upon seeing me. He then turned to Spencer. "Reid, help me carry her up to the paramedics." He insisted. Spencer nodded and began to hoist one of my arms over Morgan’s shoulder to help carry me. "I got you, baby girl. You're safe now." He assured me. I nodded weakly as my eyelids began to fall from exhaustion.

They carried me up the stairs and helped to lay me onto the stretcher that was brought into the house. The paramedics then brought me out to the ambulance. Spencer was by my side the entire time.

The paramedics hoisted me into the ambulance and began to work on me and my injuries. It was by around now that I began to really fall asleep. Finally able to sleep without the fear of waking up to a beating.

One of the paramedics looked to Spencer as he watched Y/N as they began to prepare to head to the ER. "You coming?" He asked. "We don't have long for her."

Reid looked to Hotch, hoping to be given leave enough to be with Y/N in the ambulance. Hotch nodded. "Go on, Reid. We'll take care of it from here." He assures.

Spencer smiled at Hotch without another word. He turned around again and entered the ambulance, sitting beside Y/N as the engine started up and they began to drive away.

Spencer leaned farther and closer towards Y/N, feelings of both relief and sorrow washing over him. He had her back. She was safe. She wasn't dead. She was very much alive.

~~~

Hours later Spencer sat in the waiting room for an update on Y/N. He had been separated from her immediately once they arrived, having no news of her afterwards. Anxiety was all he knew as he dreaded what the doctors were going to say about her injuries. Just how much pain Zavier had caused her. What he did to her.

JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan all flowed into the waiting room, smiling as they found Spencer bent over with his face deep in his hands.

"Hey Reid. So… any updates?" Morgan asks, trying to give his friend some space. Spencer rubbed his face tiredly and shook his head.

"Nothing. Not since we got here." He says with a hard sigh. Emily frowned and caressed his shoulder.

"She'll be alright. We'll get the evidence we need and she'll only have some scars. I'm sure." Emily assures, giving Spencer a gentle look.

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose but nodded. They were probably right. "Probably…" he says softly, looking around once more in hopes that the doctor would come through the door.

Each opening of the door into the actual ER got Spencer worked up. He kept thinking it was the doctor or a nurse calling him back to see her. To see Y/N. But alas, it was not. Time and time again, each and every turn of the knob wasn't for him.

JJ sighed. "I should've taken this case more seriously when it came across my desk, Reid. Especially when the girls looked like Y/N…" she apologizes, looking down at her feet in shame.

Spencer looked up and shook his head. "There was nothing you could've done that would have kept him away from her, JJ. Or prevented him seeing her. He'd already had his eye on her and-" Spencer took a deep breath. "My point being that it isn't your fault. Alright?" He promises, looking up at JJ from where he sat.

JJ sighed and crossed her arms, holding her sides uncomfortably. "I still don't like this. He literally kept her down there and his wife did nothing. This is reminding me of Janice and Cameron Hooker all over again." She groaned, looking towards the hospital entrance as Hotch and Rossi entered.

"How is she?" Hotch asks, standing next to JJ and next to where Morgan sat.

Morgan answered for Spencer in a matter of seconds. "No news yet. They still got her back in intensive care. They'll let us know when she's stable, I guess." He shrugged.

Spencer sighed again and ran another hand through his hair. Hotch noticed this and spoke up.

"How are you handling this, Reid? I can give you a few days off with her after she's out to get settled. If that'll be alright." Hotch suggested. Spencer felt unease begin to grow in his belly. He almost spoke up on it until Hotch finished his portion of the conversation. "Afterwards I plan to arrange for her to work at her desk and help Garcia. To put both of your minds at ease." Hotch assured. "We cannot have either of you constantly worrying about the other's well-being while on the job for the next few weeks."

Spencer’s uneasiness immediately faded and was replaced with a feeling of relief once more. He let a small smile find its way onto his face and nodded to Hotch's suggestion.

"Y-yeah… I think I'd like that." He says softly.

Not a moment later the door opens and a nurse begins calling for Reid. "Is there a Dr. Spencer Reid here?" The nurse calls.

Spencer rose to his feet in an instant, biting his lip anxiously. "T-that's me." He answered.

The nurse nodded. "Alright, well we just finished her surgery. She's got a few cracked ribs and one fractured one. She also has some minor damage to her spine. But other than that, just a medium concussion. She's asking for you, by the way." The nurse announces, smiling gently.

Spencer again couldn't help the smile that teased at his lips when he heard Y/N was asking for him. He followed the nurse back into the ER and towards the recovery room. His heart slightly pounded as he wandered closer and closer to Y/N.

Then, he saw her.

Laying in a hospital bed angled slightly up to support her spine, laid Y/N. She looked up at Spencer with tired eyes, smiling at him instantly.

"Spence…" she called. Spencer was glad to answer to it. He found himself placed at her side immediately, pulling her gently close so as to not damage what the doctors had fixed.

"Y/N… sweetheart…" he called in a soft whisper, kissing the nape of her neck gently. She hummed softly and held her arms limply around his neck.

"Spencer… I-I'm sorry… f-for the a-arguing. I j-just-" she began, pulling slightly away from him, although she could not find anything else she feared more.

Spencer shook his head and pulled her into a full kiss, cupping her bandaged and bruised cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away her incoming tears and caressed her cheek lovingly. She pressed her lips against his moreso, relief flooding her senses.

She let herself collapse into his embrace and his kiss, ignoring the pain that came with moving too far forward. Spencer laid her back against the bed to prevent any more injury before he continued to kiss her gently. He'd wanted this for a week. And now he had it.

After a long moment, Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the long-overdo kiss. She let Spencer’s touch remain on her cheek as he continued to hold her. "Sweetheart, none of that matters to me anymore. You're alive. You're breathing. That's all I need right now." He says sweetly, kissing her forehead as tenderly and as gently as he could.

Y/N let out a soft giggle and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Dr. Reid." She teased. Spencer chuckled softly in return.

"I love you too, Y/N."

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #kidnapping

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antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx · 4 years

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Mouse’s Reclist (#2/?)

It’s time for a second reclist! Here’s the first, if you want. This is again in no particular order. Title, author, pairing, and fandom will be listed, as well as if it’s a WIP.

The first few are going to be Snarry, because my reading list recently has basically consisted of entirely Snarry. Why? Because I fucking love Snarry. Sue me.

Angels on the Moon by Writcraft - Harry Potter/Snarry - The aftermath of the war is almost as difficult as the war itself, Harry is a mess and Severus is a reluctant survivor forced back to Hogwarts to recuperate from his injuries. When a brick-bonding spell goes awry, Harry and Severus are forced to confront hatred, misunderstandings and a new and unexpected intimacy which takes them both by surprise. Notes: This is the classic-style Eighth Year!Fic, which has long been my favourite trope in the HP fandom. It’s an especially loved trope of mine when it comes to Snarry, too, as I am problematic filth, and teacher-student relationships are my jam. It’s also a classic bonding!fic. But the way it handles the tropes is just… *chef’s kiss*

The Man Underneath by maraudersaffair - Harry Potter/Snarry - Severus is a secret Auror and must always be disguised. When Harry Potter becomes his new partner, Severus struggles hiding his true identity and burning attraction. Notes: This is more bottom!Snape than top!Snape, which I know isn’t to everyone’s taste. However, it’s fucking fantastic, and as someone who has a cathartic and self-fulfilling love of “char A is ugly and has a shittonne of self-hatred and yet manages to score super hot char B” (something that I struggle with myself and still worry how I manage to keep my own gorgeous partner over), this is perfect. Not that I even agree with J.K.’s assessment on Sev’s ugliness. I like the “goth filled with churning angst” look.

a forest, dark and deep by bleedcolor - Harry Potter/Snarry - Once, many years ago (for that is when all great stories begin, many years ago; we never consider we might be in the midst of our own great story) there lived a boy. But wait, you might say, there is nothing special about a boy living, many people do and never amount to much of anything. You would be right, but you would also be wrong, because this story is not about a boy who lived, but The Boy Who Lived, and that is all the difference. Notes: Harry is cursed and must go on an adventure to the Fountain of Youth to find the cure. I cried. I cried a lot. I cried a lot a lot a lot a lot. Happy ending, though! Fairy tale fic. One of the best fics to read if you want magic in the HP universe portrayed more like magic in ancient medieval history tends to be portrayed: mysterious, Eldritch, Occult-like power that requires strange and sometimes dangerous rituals to harness.

you like making me work for it by bottlefamebrewglory - Harry Potter/Snarry - “Before what, Mr. Potter?”//Before Snape had looked at him, drunk and miserable without knowing why, and told him that he could change his future if he wanted. Before he had pulled Snape out of the darkness he’d been determined to drown in. Before the memories. Before he’d looked into Snape’s eyes and watched him die.//Harry didn’t often change his mind, not about people. He’d been accused by Hermione more than once of being stubborn, even prejudiced. And, once upon a time, he’d thought he’d known exactly who Severus Snape was. But that had changed and Harry was no longer that boy anymore, just as Snape could no longer ever be just his hated professor.//“Before,” Harry said again, more finally.//Harry was pretty sure the fact that everyone never thought he’d live past seventeen was at least half the reason becoming an actual adult was so goddamn strange. Severus just wanted to get on with his life now that it was free of controlling old men.//Or, five times Harry flirted with Snape and one time Snape flirted with Harry. Notes: @snapedefender‘s most recent masterpiece. Post-War!fic, one of the best of. Harry worms his way into Severus’ life, as he always does. Also he has a big crush. Their interactions are golden. Everything about this is golden, in fact. It’s just delightful. Read it, please.

How the War Was Won by avioleta - Harry Potter/Snarry - Severus Snape should be dead. Instead, he wakes up after the Battle of Hogwarts to find himself quarantined in a house full of Gryffindors, waiting for Harry bloody Potter to save the world…again. And Severus must be going crazy because he can’t seem to stop thinking about Potter. (Or, where Harry needs a distraction, and Severus doesn’t refuse.) Notes: War Doesn’t End with The Battle of Hogwarts!fic. And it’s by avioleta, a longtime and well-loved Snarry writer. Well-loved for good reason! They know what they’re doing, and it shows. I’ve long loved “Harry and any number of Slytherins are holed up together and must get along” as a trope, and this nails it perfectly. Another fav was in my previous reclist, Hauntingly by ObsidianPen, where Harry is holed up with Draco, Sev, AND Tom! Fun times!

Chasing Ghosts by DictionaryWrites - Harry Potter/Snarry/WIP - “I guess I’m not ready to join the land of the living just yet,” Harry says. “Need a little more time here at Hogwarts, with all the ghosts. You know what I mean?”//In the aftermath of the war, Harry doesn't feel ready to leave the safety of the castle, and to go out into the world at large: he wants to stay. The Room of Requirement - with great reluctance - grants his wish. Notes: Adult!Harry wakes up in the Marauders Era and becomes a teacher, all while he tries to figure out the nature of spacetime. TIME TRAVEL!FIC! That’s in all caps because I love and adore time travel!fic with all my heart. Again, more of a bottom!Snape story. I used to think I preferred top!Snape, but bottom!Snape has come into my heart with a passion as of late and showed me I’m not always going to want Snape to nail Harry into his mattress. This also shows more of Snape’s backstory, with mentor!Lucius and all, which is a fav of mine as well.

OKAY! Enough Snarry, yes, sorry. Moving on!

Love Potion #9 by murderlight - Bleach/GrimmIchi - Gifted with a horrifying box of potion-laced chocolates from Urahara in the hopes he might feed them to somebody, Ichigo thought all the excitement for Valentine’s Day was done with. Then Grimmjow had to get snacky.//A story in which Ichigo is entrusted with the scientifically altered affections of his once-enemy, and might just discover some of his own. Notes: I love the goddamn love potion/love spell trope. This one highlights the dubcon nature of making someone fall in love with you (even on accident) a lot more, but still makes everyone’s feelings feel genuine and real. And of course it ends happily. And there’s no noncon, if that’s not to your taste. Ichigo is a good boy and does not stroke that pussy until that pussy is entirely free from Kisuke’s experimental serums. Yes, I made that pun.

The Edinburgh Problem by snorklepie - Sherlock/Johnlock - “A nice holiday, just a bit more...murdery. ” John said drily.//“Yes! The best kind of holiday!” Sherlock beamed. “So we won’t get bored!”//After he separates from Mary, John returns to Baker Street. Following a request for help from Sherlock's cousin Violet, the detective and his blogger take a trip to Edinburgh. John discovers more about the Holmes family and Sherlock than he bargained for, but tries not to run screaming. Notes: I fell in love with Violet immediately. I am so gay. If you are also attracted to women, you will probably join me in falling in love with Violet. She is amazing, and very Holmes. But a more balanced Holmes. Well, as balanced as a Holmes can be. I love case fic, I love Sherlock Holmes in general because of my adoration for murder mystery (yes, I am a forensics major, thank you for being able to clock me very obviously), and I love deep backstory and family bonding. It’s a long, long ride, but it is undoubtedly worth every single minute.

The Loss of Flesh and Soul by deuxexmycroft - Sherlock/Johnlock/Abandoned WIP - Five years after John Watson puts the murderous Sherlock Holmes behind bars, a vicious copycat killer emerges. A reluctant John is pulled out of retirement to seek the expertise of the only man who can help, a man who has developed an unsettling obsession with John himself.//Crossover with Red Dragon/Silence of the Lambs Notes: It’s Hannigram but Johnlock, what’s not to love? Sherlock’s characterisation in the TV show is already unsettling enough (well, in the beginning, but I like to pretend Sherlock doesn’t exist past S2), so adding in a little Hannibal Lecter is fantastic. Yes, it’s an abandoned WIP. Yes, that hurts like hell. But it’s so, so worth it anyway. Seriously, this is one of the best executions of serial killer!Sherlock I’ve seen in fandom, and given how fucking gigantic the Sherlock fandom is, hopefully you can see how big of a thumbs up that is imho!

Sinking the Land by emungere - Sherlock/Mystrade - Three weeks ago, Mycroft Holmes picked Lestrade up outside New Scotland Yard and made him an offer he'd been unable to refuse, despite his best judgement. Mycroft had sucked his cock, dropped him off at home, and Lestrade hadn't heard a word from him since.//Now, the door of the black car swung open as Lestrade drew level with it. He could just see Mycroft's profile, hawkish nose and shallow chin limned by the orange glow of the streetlight. Notes: Porn WITH plot! That’s the best way to take your porn, imho. One of the best ways I’ve seen the Mystrade relationship developed. It’s just so real. And Lestrade is so head-over-heels, which is my favourite way to take my Lestrade :p.

Clark Kent, of Krypton by TerresDeBrume - DCEU/Superbat - Batman crashes on Krypton a few days before the Turn of the Year celebrations, and Kal-El's life takes a sharp turn to the left, on a path that will, ultimately, lead him to becoming Clark Kent. Notes: Krypton Wasn’t Destroyed!fic is always, always, always my favourite. Sci-fi mystery again, yes. If you saw my first reclist, then you understand that I am always going to fall for a sci-fi mystery fic. This one develops Kryptonian culture beautifully, and equally-as-perfectly encapsulates what “Clark Kent Pretending to Be a Mild-Mannered Reporter, but on Krypton” would actually look like.

Q It Again by writerofprose - Star Trek/QCard - Picard thinks his position, as captain of the Enterprise, plays the largest role in Q's obsession with him. Q would like to take that bet, even if Picard wasn't making one. What say they try it again, from the start? Without the captain nonsense? Notes: A poignant take on Q’s weird fixation with Picard. Not that anyone can blame him. I mean, shit, the man is Jean-luc Picard. Anyone would be fixated on him. Q uses his Q powers to explore Picard in multiple alternate universes, and erases his own memories in order to come in unbiased. Picard gets to keep his original memories, and those of the AU. Does Q still like Picard as much when he’s not at the helm of the Enterprise?

American Outlaws by manic_intent - Red Dead Redemption/Morston - “Bounty’s for one ‘Jim Milton’,” Sadie said, as she got close to the man under the oak tree. “Wanted for murder, robbery, and unnatural acts.”//“Unnatural what?”///“Don’t got details on here.” Sadie passed the folded up poster to her hunting partner. “You all right?”//Arthur Morgan didn’t answer her as he smoothed open the poster. He was aggressively smoking a cigarette, his second, judging from the stub on the grass. Notes: I loved RDR and RDR2 so much that I wrote my own fic in the fandom, despite knowing jackshit about late 1800’s America. It was only a ficlet, in order to hide how little I remember from my contemporary history classes, but much more talented people than me took on the burden of whole-ass novels. Here’s everyone’s fav BNF manic’s take on a fix-it Morston, pre-RDR1 but post-RDR2. It’s excellent. Who doesn’t enjoy forbidden love historical romance? Especially with a delicious helping of age gap. If you’d like Vandermorgan or even Vandermorston, check out more of manic’s stuff, and also kriegersan, who is another long-time fav of mine.

Every Deckerstar fic by wollfgang. But especially a softer beginning, an amnesia!fic, and if you saw all of me, a true form!Lucifer!fic. You know, since angels are described as weird Eldritch beings in ancient texts. Both tropes are my favourite. Also that latter one has monsterfucking and we are all monsterfuckers here.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz - House M.D./Hilson - Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.") Notes: Work 355 on the AO3. It’s that OG. And for an OG slash fandom, too. Well, not Star Trek levels of OG, but it’s a fandom based on Sherlock Holmes, and ACD did come before Star Trek! You’ve probably read it. It’s the OG Hilson Pretend Marriage!fic. But I had to rec it because when I get bored I watch House on Amazon Prime (or the thousands of clips they upload to YT nowadays), and I always am struck by HOW GAY HOUSE AND WILSON ARE OH MY GOD. I can never watch it with Mum in the room, though, because she was in the medical field before she retired, and the unrealistic nature of how House characters behave (and some of the medical procedures) make her SOOOOOO peeved. Though doctors, especially surgeons, were apparently huge egotistical dicks at times. Maybe not kill your own patient levels, though.

In A Place Where No One Appeared by Gefionne - Star Wars/Kylux - Following the destruction of Starkiller Base, General Hux is ordered to remove a wounded Kylo Ren to a place where he can recuperate. Knowing nowhere else to house him safely and discreetly, Hux takes Ren to his family’s estate on Arkanis. He anticipates adding this experience to the already long list of abhorrent memories he has of his childhood home, but six weeks in company with Ren turns out to be something quite unlike Hux expected. Notes: The imagery is so fucking vivid, I love it. The entire world of Arkanis is just lit up so beautifully in Gefionne’s words. This takes a little liberty with Hux’s backstory, given there wasn’t too much out at the time, but it’s so fucking good, I’d prefer its canon to the actual one, lmao.

all that you love will be carried away by coldhope - Star Wars/Kylux - Supreme Leader, the oscillator is failing. The collapse has begun. There is nothing that can be done.//Hux, sent to retrieve Kylo Ren from the dying Starkiller Base, has lost almost everything, and has little patience or tolerance left for anyone or anything--particularly not Snoke's pet pseudo-Sith and his amateur theatrics. But you do the job that is in front of you, to the best of your ability, and you hold on as long as you can. Notes: One of the first Kylux fics, and one of the best. Their relationship is just so real here.

London Calling by SectoBoss - Overwatch/WidowTracer - Recaptured by Overwatch, Widowmaker is sent on a mission to assassinate a high-ranking Talon agent in London. It should be an easy mission – get in, take the shot, and leave. But when Tracer’s your getaway pilot a lot of things can go wrong, and things like 'subtlety' and 'discretion' tend to be the first casualties. Now, lying low after the mission goes awry, the pair of them have to survive in the city until Overwatch can get them home. Notes: Written when OW was in its heyday. And before the fandom was qqqquite as bad as it became. A WidowTracer case!fic, with Amelie as the reluctant good guy, which is always the best trope and I don’t take concrit on this point.

To the Victor, The Spoil by Annakovsky - Hunger Games/Haymitch/Katniss - No berries, no mockingjay, no rebellion. Katniss killed Peeta in the arena, and now she has to live with herself like every other victor. Notes: An old fandom, an older fic, back in the day when nobody complained about fucked up dark!fic. And fucked up dark!fic this is. Rape, age gap, age gap rape, Katniss losing all hope about the future, etc. But damn, it’s good.

The Want of You by MKK - Star Trek/Garashir - Julian Bashir is not quite sure yet about his feelings toward his enigmatic new friend Elim Garak. So when they both show symptoms of a mysterious illness, it seems they'll now have more time apart to ponder the future of the relationship. Their symptoms worsen, however, and to their shock, they discover there's only one way to effectively and inexplicably ease the pain: getting physically closer and closer - and closer. Notes: A forced bonding!fic where Bashir doesn’t actually know Garak all that well. As in, set very early in the canon. Very early. Which is my favourite way to read this beloved trope, because the whole fun of it (imho) is characters who barely have a grasp on each other’s personalities being forced to learn them.

Timeshare by astolat - Harry Potter/Drarry - “It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”//“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”//“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, because he hadn’t just spent the last week contemplating just how much more horrible his summer holidays were about to be than they’d ever been before. Notes: Another forced bonding!fic, this time by AO3’s own founder. I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it. Their interactions here are perfect.

Speaking of Drarry, here’s a Veela!Draco fic I’ve recced before, but I don’t believe was in the original masterpost.

Talk to Me by Saras_Girl - Harry Potter/Drarry - When the usual channels of communication are shut down, the most surprising people can find a way in. A strange little love story. Notes: Harry is temporarily deaf and blind thanks to a misaimed spell. Draco takes care of him, in secret. Identity porn at its best.

Semaphore by DevilDoll - MCU/Stony - "I’m trying to like you, Tony. You’re just making it very hard." Notes: I wanted to rec another OG. One of the first Stony fics in the MCU, and still one of the best. It holds up very, very well and is worth a read if, by some miracle, you haven’t already.

Prisoner’s Dilemma by AvocadoLove - MCU/Stony - After taking the airplane down in the Arctic, Steve wakes to find himself imprisoned as a human test subject. With no idea where in the world he is, his only ally is a fast-talking inventor in the cell next door. Something’s off about Tony that Steve can’t put his finger on, and it’s obvious Tony doesn't fully trust him either. But to escape they may not have a choice… Notes: IDENTITY PORN! And it’s by an author I adore. AvocadoLove has pioneered the MCU MattFoggy fandom, and also donated their efforts and words to Stony. It’s the best. And it’s canon divergence! Which is another favourite trope, and one I can’t ever seem to stop writing myself. I have a lot of appreciation for it.

Speaking of MattFoggy, all of theapplepielifestyle’s works for the pairing are amazing. And all of their works in general.

Belief Space by magicasen - Marvel 616/Stony - The Time Gem appears not when it is wanted, but when it is needed. Steve learns this the hard way.//(Or: an Infinity #6 AU where Thane refuses his birthright and the Avengers are doomed - until the Time Gem shows up within Captain America's grasp.) Notes: A 616!Stony fic, if you’re craving something in the comics rather than the movies. Still with Civil War angst and Stony angry tension, just this time it’s even more painful, because their friendship in the comics!verse was beautiful and their fallout even more devastating.

This time tomorrow (where were we?) by dorcas_gustine - Marvel 616/Stony - Tony goes to see Wanda, and suddenly Steve is alive and there are Skrulls! Or maybe Tony is just going crazy. Nothing happens in this fic, until the very end. Seriously. There's a lot of talking, mostly at inopportune moments, Tony's views on the acceptable gifts to give people are slightly different from everyone else's and he spends more time than would seem necessary being (half-)naked. What else is new? Notes: More 616 for your Stony needs! Tony time travels into a word pre-Secret Invasion and decides to fix things his damn self.

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter (Zimario) - MCU/Stucky - “They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.//Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—//“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”//Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.” Notes: TWS Identity Porn!AU. Gore, given that the Winter Soldier’s mask is literally stuck to his face. But it’s excellent.

Simple by Osidiano - MCU/Stucky - Written for the capkink meme; "To the Winter Soldier, there are basically three kinds of people in the world: superiors, mission support, and targets. He doesn't have the context to understand things like friendship. So what he sees in the Smithsonian exhibit and what little he remembers or feels about his past, he interprets in that light. He thinks that Steve must have been his handler during World War II. That the reason he couldn't kill Steve and the reason he was smiling in the museum photos was because Steve was a good superior who treated him well (or at least didn't hurt him like Pierce and Rumlow, which to him might be the best he can imagine).//Thinking he understands the situation, he decides to report to Steve. Cue misunderstandings, confusion, and heartache for both of them." Notes: Bucky taking a while to snap out of TWS mode is one of my favourite tropes. This fic executes it perfectly.

Bridge Over Troubled Water by soniclipstick (veriscence) - MCU/Stuckony/Phlint - Ultron is destroyed, the Avengers are in disarray, and the Winter Soldier is still in the wind. Steve knows that he has to fix the ever-growing ocean of distrust between Tony and himself, so he takes a leap of faith and tasks Tony with the most important thing: finding Bucky Barnes. But it takes a pair of sexy but stolen hand warmers, several robots, Hawkeye and countless selfies before Steve realises the immensity of what he's set into motion. Notes: I would die for Stuckony as a ship. It’s one of my favourites to read and to write, and this fic here encapsulates it quite frankly in the best way.

Strange New Worlds by Leletha - Supernatural/Destiel/Sabriel - AU…THE FUTURE: Humanity survives everything, spreads to the stars, and finds it needs to know where it can land. Enter interplanetary explorers Sam and Dean Winchester…and sentient starships Gabriel and Castiel. Then ships and crews start disappearing out in the black and, as usual, all goes straight to hell. Notes: I corresponded with Le’letha when they originally wrote this fic, and my love for it has only grown in the years since. Sci-fi mystery, yes. Dude, Castiel is a sentient spaceship. That itself is premise enough.

In His Image by Anonymous - Supernatural/Sabriel - Kali can breathe life back into a corpse, but what exactly is Gabriel now? Gabriel flits around various centuries trying to work that out, Dean has another powered-down angel and a little brother to look out for, Castiel has forgotten how to trust, and someone keeps sending Sam annoying little notes on his laptop. Oh, and Bobby would like to remind you all that there’s an Apocalypse still going on. Covers season 5 from Gabriel’s death to the finale. Notes: My favourite Sabriel fic. God only knows why the author abandoned it. I have their original name, but it doesn’t feel right to reveal it when they made the conscious choice to anonymise. Let me just say that they were a favourite of mine.

If You Were the Last Woman on Earth by Vali - Doctor Who/Thoschei (Twissy) - Just because your best enemy accidentally destroyed planet Earth is no reason to refuse her hospitality. Written for the Only One Bed fanfic challenge. Notes: That last note doesn’t even begin to cover how wonderful this fic is. Tropes are irrelevant, this captures them perfectly. Still one of my fav ever Thoschei fics. Now just get me one where The Master calls our titular hero Theta Cubed Sigma Ex Squared Lungbarrow, please.

A Wealth of Sorrows by evelynwaaaaah - Dragon Age/Solavellan - Things are getting back to normal in Skyhold now that Corypheus is gone. Until the Inquisitor collapses in mid-conversation. Notes: Solavellan is still a ship I would die for. This fic will make you ship it, if the game didn’t already. And this is coming from someone who romanced Cullen on my first playthrough.

Reclamation by copperbadge - Harry Potter/Background Jily and Wolfstar - In an alternate universe, one man still struggles with a moral decision made many years before. Notes: What if Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn’t quite the same maniac of the canon!verse and was accepted to the position of DADA professor? By the esteemed copperbadge.

Truth and Illusion by penny_dreadful - Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica/MadoHomu/KyoSaya - “I’ve, um, been dreaming.” She closes her eyes because it’s easier to ignore Mami and Homura’s stares. “In, in my dream I’m still in bed, but I-I’m not alone, Sayaka’s next to me but she’s not breathing, she’s—”//She’s pale and cold and pretty in the same way the stained glass windows of Kyoko’s father’s church are pretty and she’s lying so still she can’t be anything but dead. But in her dream Kyoko still curls around her, soul gem in hand, keeping her warm, keeping her safe—//“—she’s dead, I didn’t even know her that well and she’s dead and in my dream I’m so, I’m scared that there’s nothing I can do.” She opens her eyes. “But there really is nothing I can do. She’s already gone, and we left her there.” She stares hard at her hands. “We weren’t really even friends.” Notes: Not really a fix-it for MadoHomu, but certainly one for SayaKyo. Homura does more spacetime bullshit. Kyouko remembers.

~~~

I think that should cover it for now! That took me ageeeees, and I have games to go waste my life on and fics to write now lmao. Let me know if you want a third installment!

#fic recs #recs #fic rec #long post

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threadofdestiny · 4 years

Text

The opportunities we may take

(The picture was a comission i ordered from a friend. Check her out -> Fantasiamin_art on instagram)

Sinbad x OC

Soulmate AU

Part 8

Homeward

--- southern sea, on the sindrian ship---

A few days later after their midnight talk, not too far from Sindria anymore, Salome strolled across the upper deck with her brother by her side, while she seemed to enjoy the warm midday sun on her skin. She had gotten used to the life on the ship and was already feeling a little more comfortable with her situation. At least she exuded a certain calmness after Sinbad saw her again after the conversation they shared on their first night. He was pleased to see her getting along with his present generals as she joined in as if she had been with them for ages. Amused, he had discovered that it was not just him, who found her gentle and attentive manner pleasing. Masrur and Yamraiha in particular often sought her attention, while keeping her unfortunately away from him. Some of the crew members also dared to occasionally try to find their way around the pretty girl, but she hardly seemed to notice that the young men were trying to flirt with her. Despite everything, he had often found the time in the evenings to help her connect to her Djinn´s vessel. Even if she was far from being able to equip her Djinn, she had started to gain control over Alexander's powers to use some of his skills. The King of Sindria was surprised at how well she followed his explanations and how quickly she could make progress within a few days. Her iron determination vaguely reminded him of himself, even if it seemed that she solved problems far less impulsive then him.

Sindria's king stood at the other end of the ship and steered the vessel over the calm water, talking to his adviser who stood next to him while he kept looking at the girl that talked to her brother. He had watched her constantly over the past few days, hoping to learn as much as possible about her. It was a little strange that a single person could fascinate him like this, but he didn't try to think about what that meant for him.

"So...we will soon reach Sindria. What are your plans regarding Salome and her brother?" Asked the ash-blonde man curiously, after he noticed where his friend's attention kept going. Sinbad, on the other hand, shrugged as he corrected the course somewhat.

"No idea. I didn't worry about it until now!" Replied his king, grinning mischievously at his adviser. Ja´far rolled his eyes in annoyance and put his palm against his aching temple as he let his gaze wander over to the girl, who had leaned against the railing. She gestured at Sharrkan, who was slowly strolling towards them, alerting her brother to the approaching presence. The young general was probably on his way to ask Malik for another training round. Since the white-haired heliohaptian had found out that Salome's brother was also adept at sword fighting, the teenager had hardly left Malik alone.

As if Salome had felt the gaze of Sindria´s king and his adviser on her, she turned to their direction smiling at them, before she raised her hand and bowed her head slightly in greeting. Both men returned the gesture before Ja'far closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. ”You're really incorrigible!", Ja'far wailed defeated, shaking his head as he turned back to his king. Amused, Sinbad took his eyes of Salome to watch his adviser, enjoying the annoyed look Ja'far gave him and decided to savor this a little more with a provocative comment, when suddenly Salome's cry pulled him out of his thoughts. Both men looked alarmed in her direction. Her outstretched hand indicated that something was in the water coming towards them, while she caused the two swordsmen to pull their blades when something crashed into the huge ship shortly afterwards.

Immediately when the young woman warned the two swordsmen about the creature in the water, her brother had tried to leap forward to reach for her, but the crash caused the huge vessel to shake, inducing both Malik and Salome to lose their balance. A huge wave flooded the boat and pulled Salome's feed from the ground, while she was already hanging dangerously over the railing. She looked alarmed into the water, where a huge elongated shadow swam wildly under the Vessel as she tried to heave her torso back over the slippery wood.

"Damn it! Watch out!" yelled Sharrkan, who was used to wobbling ships and ran steadily to the girl to get her, when suddenly there was another crash and the young girl finally slipped over the wet rail. "SALOME!" Came several panicked voices as she fell over the edge just mere seconds before Sharrkan had reached her. Another wave hit the ship when Sharrkan and Malik grabbed the railing and starred panicked into the water, hoping to spot Salome just to discover how she was clinging to one of the wooden planks, just a few feet above the sea.

When Malik spread his wings to fly to Salome, a huge sea monster shot out of the water behind her and aimed an attack at the two males. The monster shot a huge fountain of water in the direction of the swordsmen, who were both forced to dodge. Salome tried desperately to hold onto the vessel, but slipped as the ship shook again as a result of the attack. Shocked, she fell into the deep water, choking on the salty liquid as she tried to gain control over her body. The pull that the waves produced tugged at her clothes, making swimming more difficult. With eyes burning from the salty water, she broke through the surface and gasped desperately for much needed air before a large wave pulled her under the water again. Disoriented, she turned underwater around her own axis and found the monster behind her, which protruded half over the surface and tried to attack the people on the ship, while it´s long tail kept him straight out of the water, swinging from side to side. The thought that the ship could sink if the monster did not let go of it flooded her thoughts and made her focus on the creature with a wild beating heart. Suddenly, determination spread through Salome as she stretched her hands toward the beast and concentrated on her Djinns vessel. Inwardly asking Alexander for his strength, Salome tried to collect her Magoi in the palms of her hands when suddenly her bracelet lit up and the sign of King Solomon extended in front of her. Golden glowing veins formed across her arms when light suddenly gathered in her hands. With a clenched jaw she prayed for her Djinn´s aid and shot a beam of brilliant light against the monster's belly, which screamed due to the burns and backed away from the ship. Surprised, the people on the sea vessel watched the monster shriek away and let go of the ship to look into the water beside it, when another beam of light broke through the surface and hit the sea-snake on one of it´s fins.

Taking advantage of the distraction, neither of the young men hesitated to climb the railing to jump after Salome, when suddenly their king flew past them in Focalor's full Djinn equipment and plunged into the water. "We have to distract it from them!" Yelled Ja'far, behind them, when he came running towards the two men, followed by Masrur and some crew members. Armed with pointed harpoons, the sailors aimed at the monster to draw its attention back to them.

Malik swore, as he watched the monster start to dive back into the water to attack Salome and Sinbad, while he spread his wings again to swing himself into the air. He was aware that he couldn't do much under water because his soaked wings would only pull him down, so he had to be careful. Desperate, he directed his anger at the monster and aimed his sword at its head, when suddenly spears formed out of water rushed past him, hitting the snake square in it´s chest. When the flying man turned around he saw Yamraiha rising in the air next to him, while she smiled confidently at him.

“Let´s fight together!”

At that moment Sinbad broke through the surface of the water and flew out of the danger zone with Salome in his arm, while he held one of his hands in the direction of the sea snake to maneuver it towards the ship with a gust of wind. Coughing, the girl clung to the mans neck, while Sinbad turned to his generals, looking at the heliohaptian: "Now, Sharrkan!" Sinbad ordered and watched as said man started up and jumped off of the railing with a swing to land on the head of the water snake. With a battle cry, he stabbed the monster's skull with his sword and released an electrical charge into it. Before Sharrkan could land in the water with the grilled monster, Malik flew to him, reached under his arm and flew the heliohaptian back to the ship. With a loud splash, the monster collapsed and landed motionless on the surface of the water as it steamed from the electric shock. The crew members on the ship cheered in victory and gathered around the generals with beaming faces of joy, when their king landed on the ship with Salome in his arms.

"Wuuhuu, well done, everybody. This calls for a big party, guys!" The white-haired teenager called and snapped his fingers in celebration, after shoving his sword casually back into the scabbard.

While Sharrkan celebrated his victory, Sinbad examined the young woman for any injuries.

"Are you all right?" He asked to be sure, after he spotted nothing out of the ordinary, when Salome nodded reassuringly.

"Yes! I´m sorry. I realized too late that the Rukh tried to warn me." Salome replied, rubbing her wet arms trembling, while the golden veins on her skin began to fade away. “Well done! You used Alexander's magic to attack the monster!" Congratulated Yamraiha as she handed the girl a towel that one of the crew members had brought her. A proud smile formed on Salome's lips, as she nodded, before she turned back to Sinbad to look at him with glimmering eyes.

“I did it!”, she breathed as she put her hand on the metal vessel of her Djinn. Sinbad grinned at her with a winning smile.

"Well done! You´ve learned really fast!", He praised her as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Even so, you had to save me again. I'm sorry!" She murmured sheepishly as she wrapped the cloth tightly around her body to cover herself. Sinbad, on the other hand, waved and chuckled mischievously at Salome while he was still standing next to her in his Focalor equip.

"Ah, no problem at all. I think I was not the only one to be happy with the opportunity to fly through the area with you again!" He said jokingly while wagging his eyebrows playfully. The rukh around him seemed to want to support him in this statement, as excited as they flew around him. Salome immediately blushed when she realized what he was referring to and turned away from the man in an embarrassed manner while the others present looked up at their king in confusion. However, Sinbad dropped the conversation and turned to his subordinates, beaming: "Well done, make sure we take the monster with us. Our victory must be celebrated properly!" There was loud applause from the entire crew before they got back to work. Some nodded approvingly to Salome before turning away. Others even thanked her for her efforts and asked worriedly if everything was fine, which Salome always affirmed with a gentle smile and a reassuring nod.

Malik put his hands on her arms and rubbed them lightly to keep her warm. It wasn't cold that far south, but she was still wearing the drenched dress and the wind was blowing more heavily on the high seas than she was used to, so she appreciated his gesture.

"Come on, you should change your clothes, otherwise you will catch a cold!", Her brother advised her and gently pushed her towards the cabins.

After Salome had changed her dress, she strolled back to the upper deck. The crew members were looking even more euphoric after the monster had been caught and worked more meticulously. Already on her way out, she had to make room several times for some busy sailors because they passed her with loaded arms full of ropes and other materials. Once outside, Salome looked around until she saw Sinbad, his generals and Malik near the steering wheel on the upper level, who seemed to be having a great time. Smiling, the young woman walked past some young sailors who were checking some knots at the sails, when one of them noticed her. He nudged the other two and pointed to her with delight, before he immediately took the opportunity to approach her with a dazzling smile: "Excuse me, Miss Salome. I just wanted to say that I am glad you didn't get injured. Thanks to the gods, nothing happened to you earlier.", he started as he proudly stuck out his chest, to try to impress her with his well-built body. The other two sailors stopped their work to join their friend who had walked a few steps towards Salome and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, we were really worried!" Added the smallest of the three. Salome smiled thankfully and folded her hands in front of her as she cocked her head, while she halted her steps to turn to them. She had met the three sailors a few days ago and had spoken to them a few times. Of course she hadn't missed the fact that they occasionally tried to flirt with her, but she had put up with the fact that the poor sailors had been on the ship for some time and therefore could not spend time with other women. For this reason, she ignored their advances with a kind smile and always tried to steer the conversations in a friendly way.

"Thank you very much. I'm also glad that everything turned out so well. I’m sorry if I caused trouble to you!" Thanked the brunette woman and bowed apologetically afterwards. The three young men raised their hands in a soothing manner to keep her from apologizing, while the first of the three sailors spoke again: "Not at all. You didn't cause us any trouble. On the contrary, we could see exactly how you tried to defend the ship. That was really awesome, how you shoot the rays of light at that beast! ", he praised the young woman, while a slight blush rose somewhat on his cheeks. Again, his two cronies nodded enthusiastically, before the third member of the group spoke for the first time: "You know, there is always an incredible festivity in Sindria after a sea monster has been successfully killed," he said, watching with delight how Salome looked at him curiously.

"A festival?" She asked, eyes lighting up in interest.

"Y-yes, a festival! It's called the Mahrajan! It's really huge. The whole island is going to be decorated and the flesh of the monster is made into many delicacies that are shared with everyone.", The largest spoke again, taking up the conversations approach to get the attention back on him.

"That sounds wonderful!" Salome replied enthusiastically, imagining how all those people enjoyed the hunted beast, while sharing it with each other.

"A-And there is also music and dancing and stuff like that!" The youngest brought in, trying not to show that he just got an elbow in the ribs from one of his friends.

"Maybe, you'd want to meet with one of us and enjoy the festivities! I'm also not a bad dancer at all, so if you might even want to dance. I would be honored to accompany you!", the youngest suggested directly, as he tried to convince her with a winning grin. The first sailor frowned, while he turned to his friend and sullenly poked him with his elbow. "Maybe she doesn't want to dance at all ... This is her first time in Sindria, maybe she'd rather discover some cool places," he replied darkly, before he turned back to Salome to look at her confidently.

"I could show you some really great places, Miss Salome! I know the best shops and bars on the island!" He added, also getting a punch on the upper arm. Salome, who feared that the sailors were going to quarrel in a serious manner, raised her hands soothingly and smiled apologetically, when all three sailors suddenly fell silent and straightened up while looking apologetically to someone who approached them from behind the young woman.

When Salome turned around, she saw Sinbad, who had observed the sailors and the young woman with a piercing gaze. Mildly smiling, he put his hand on her back as a matter of course and looked at his subordinates in a challenging way. The other males noticed the look they received from their king and positioned themselves with an even straighter posture.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked smoothly while he looked innocently at the now silent people.

Salome shook her head and pointed enthusiastically to the three men, who all looked a little embarrassed, while she ignored the strange atmosphere.

"They just told me about that festival that takes places, if one of these sea monsters is successfully defeated.”, she said, while the other three nodded sheepishly.

"Ah, yes. The Mahrajan! You're lucky, the last one was a while ago and you can enjoy it so early after your arrival." Sinbad confirmed with a soft look, before he turned to the three sailors with a waiting expression, while his hand wandered from her back to her shoulder. All three seemed to wake up from their trance and finally start moving again.

"We'll get back to work, Your Majesty!" Replied the tallest of them quickly, bowing curtly and pushing the other two in the opposite direction. Salome and Sinbad watched them silently as the voice of the youngest man reached their ears before disappearing around the corner.

"Damn ... if our king got in between we don´t stand a chance. He could wrap every woman around his fingers!"

“Ladykiller of the seven seas!”

After he heard his not so charming title, Sinbad let go of Salome and put his hand on his neck as he sheepishly cleared his throat trying to catch how the young woman reacted to the statement from the corner of his eyes. He was surprised to see her giggle softly as she looked up at him with a mischievously grin on her lips.

"Well, that's a very decisive nickname!", She said amused as she put a hand over her smiling lips to hide them.

"Ehh, well ... it's not like what you think!", he answered, while he tried to downplay his habits. Salome, however, just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders before replying: "Oh, I think it's just the way I think it is. You are so smooth and always have a flirtatious comment ready!" She said in a teasingly tone as she walked around him and grinned cheekily at him. Speechless that the calm and gentle Salome was actually teasing him, he couldn't help but register this new characteristic she was showing him of her. Now amused as well, Sinbad crossed his arms over his chest as he turned around to follow her.

"What can I say, I've always had a loose mouth!" Said the king, raising his eyebrows playfully while his golden eyes remained fixed on her. Salome cocked her head to look up at him.

"But it doesn't matter at all. It shouldn´t really concern me, who you are with or with what you spend your time.", she explained a little more gently, patting his arm briefly. For a brief moment, Sinbad thought that he saw a sad expression flashing in her turquoise eyes before she had closed them and giggled softly again.

"I hope that you don't get a wrong picture of me because of that, after all, we are just getting to know each other and I would be happy if we both become friends!", he chatted soothingly, inwardly wincing when he registered what he had just said.

He would be happy if they could become friends? Why did those words sound so wrong after he said them? Sinbad slapped his forehead inwardly and already imagined how the others would laugh at him for this sentence. Salome, on the other hand, actually seemed happy about his offer. She stopped abruptly and put her hands on his crossed arms as she looked up at him with a radiant smile on her lips. The expression on her face triggered a small hop in Sinbad's heart, while a surprising shiver ran down his back.

"That would be perfect. I would love to be friends with you," she said, trying to ignore the little prick in her heart. Sinbad released his arms from their crossed position to stroke Salome's shoulders. Swallowing, he nodded before closing his eyes, grinning down at her.

"Then we're probably friends now!", He stated calmly before he boldly put his arm around her shoulders and pressed her to his side. Salome, who hadn't expected the sudden hug, gasped in surprise as she breathed in Sinbad's masculine scent, speechless.

"Well, if that is the case, I would have to say that as soon as we are on the island we have to toast to our new forged friendship! At best on the Mahrajan. Or we just celebrate twice. We have to throw a welcome party for you and your brother, too! "Sinbad announced enthusiastically, pressing Salome closer to his muscular body. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push herself away from him, while he successfully ignored her attempt´s. With a grin, he noticed how a slight red glow rose in her cheeks, which she tried to hide by lowering her face and covering it with a few loose strands of hair.

"Sinbad, you're crushing me!" She gasped, but Sinbad just laughed, rubbing her upper arms, and ignored how his generals stared curiously at them, while they banter quite loudly.

"From now on, you have to call me Sin. All my friends call me that!" He offered with a roar as he watched with amusement as Salome fidgeted in his hug.

"Okay. Okay. I can't breathe, Sin! Please, let go!" Whined the young woman, who braced herself against the older man, hoping to gain some distance so that he could not hear how her heart was pounding against her chest. Sinbad loosened his grip a bit and pointed contentedly at the open sea when suddenly a sailor from the crow's nest alarmed the crew: "Land in sight!"

"Look Salome, we are home!" Sinbad announced with a pleased expression, while he put his hand on her back to turn her towards the railing. Something in him wasn't ready to let her go yet. It felt good to feel her body´s warmth through the thin fabric of her dress and the tingling in his fingertips that lightly touched the skin of her neck satisfied his need for that moment. He could see the hairs on her skin raising up, as Salome followed his indication, while she pressed her back against his fingers. There, on the horizon, the outlines of a large island were getting visible, which reminded her a little of Dalmasca due to the high cliffs that surrounded the land. Only the color of the cliffs was a lot darker than the rocks of her home island. When they got closer she could see the outline of a huge palace on the protruding mountain. The turquoise slate roofs shone in the sunshine, while the white stone walls stood out from the color of the cliffs.

“Home," Salome repeated quietly, placing her trembling hands on the railing. Her heart paused at what that word implied. Sindria. This was the place were she would live from now on.

After living on the island of Dalmasca for seventeen years, she had finally arrived where she was intended to be. But it wasn't necessarily Sindria what she would be calling her true home... Salome carefully turned to Sinbad, who stood incredibly close behind her, one hand still on her back while he placed the other on the wood of the ship next to hers. His golden eyes fixed on her turquoise ones and he got a tender expression on his face as he watched her starting to chew on her lower lip, while a blush began to adorn her cheeks.

"Yes, Salome, home!" He confirmed in a deep voice.

#Sinbad #Adventures of Sinbad #sinbad magi #Sindria #SinbadxOC #magi labyrinth of magic #magi #magi kingdom of magic #sinbad no bouken

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weaselle · 4 years

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Let’s talk about Witchcraft!

I used to pal around with people who considered themselves witches and pagans. California is a great place for finding people of a similar mindset, and I began a journey into what I then considered witchcraft with books by Aleister Crowley and a skill with tarot cards. Later, I celebrated a year’s worth of Sabbats with a group I joined in Germany. In Alabama I helped a couple people who were struggling with leaving christianity remain connected to a natural spiritualism through concepts such as the Lord and Lady. But my personal witching identity never truly fell in line with Wiccan paganism.

My grandmother had Gifts, I’ve written about them before. She had The Voice and she had True Dreams and some kind of Sight, all of which I personally witnessed before she passed. I share the same birthmark as she, and, present at my birth, she pronounced some kind of minor prophecy regarding me when she saw the mark. My mother died when I was very young and nobody else took it seriously enough to remember this ‘prophecy’; Grandma herself when she recounted the story seemed to feel telling me her actual words would... not be a good idea.

I have my own variation of her gifts, more like Charm than Voice I would say; nothing special about my dreams when I have them at all, definitely some kind of Sight. But these gifts are not the kind of thing that are controlled or used on purpose, and, at least in my own family, come rarely into our lives. Altogether I have had noticeable access to these gifts perhaps ten times in my 40+ years.

However, I have developed a brand of practical witchcraft that suits me and seems more (not to be dismissive of other folks but) more real than what I was participating in when I was spending time with wiccan flavored witchery. Perhaps an example is in order. Let us consider the Athame, the witch’s blade.

Most of the people I’ve known to have an Athame have had some silly ceremonial decorative thing. Some chrome plated jagged shaped enormous monstrosity, and they only use it ten times a year to salute the 4 directions and ritualistically sacrifice some cheese or whatever.

But witchcraft is old. The OLDEST magic, the FIRST magic -- witching is older than the very concept of a decorative knife. Witchcraft, in my opinion, is a very practical practice.

My own Athame is my chef’s knife.

I use it every day. I know its weight, the feel of it in my hand, I’m skilled with it, I care for it daily, sharpening, cleaning; it feeds me, a part of almost every dinner I eat. If I lost it I would feel as though I lost a part of myself. I can use it to create things that will, for example, win over a romantic partner’s family (let’s be honest, cooking and witchcraft are closely tied together). It is well suited to butchering a small animal, if I was the kind of witch that did animal sacrifice, this is the knife I would use.

This, to me, is a witch’s blade.

The rest of a witch’s tool box is just as practical. Knife, music, wand, chalice, candle, pentacle. Other witch’s tools are basically these same things, much the way a torch is basically a big candle. Mystical as they may seem in a modern setting, these things are, in their purest form, simply the things you would need to be different than an animal, and survive as a human being in the wild.

You have fire (candle). A musical sound (bell is often simplest but plenty of witch kits substitute a flute, or a small drum, or some other simple instrument). A pentacle is little more than a flat work surface, like a cutting board, which is far more rare and valuable than we take it for if you live in the wild. And lets talk about the chalice and wand.

A wand is a stick. Possibly the first multi-purpose tool humans ever regularly used. You can use it to dig tubers. Draw diagrams in the dirt. Stir a stew or poke a fire. It extends your reach when getting fruit from trees or poking into holes for small edible creatures. A spear is, at its base concept, a large wand (the chimpanzees we’ve observed making and using spears are mostly mothers btw). And there are two reasons I suspect one might attach significance to waving a stick around in the air.

1: if you see a group of people talking and gesturing, but one of them is gesturing with some kind of stick, that one is in charge or has some special say in things. Right? I mean obviously there will be exceptions, but that basic observation is pretty true. In this way, it confers an invisible power.

2: if you are entering an old holy place, one that you only enter a few times a year, some kind of cave, or small grove, or temple... I can tell you from experience you’re probably going to want to find a stick and wave it around in front of you, around the entire space. Or you’re going to get that icky startle you feel when you catch a strand of spiderweb to the face. Imagine how that whole process might look to someone who doesn’t know what’s happening.

But there’s something else about a wand. A classic wand will have a pointy end (of obvious use in a variety of situations) and a thicker blunt end. This is not just for grip. That blunt end can combine with the chalice or cup to be a mortar and pestle. Now your wand, knife, chalice and candle are really coming together, because when you are done making whatever it is with the knife and mortar and pestle (probably on the surface of your pentacle) you can hang your chalice over the candle and heat it. This is how a witch might make a medicinal tea, or potion.

Sometimes, one might attach something to the tip of the wand to specialize it, so a wand might have a rounded riverstone that would be a greater pestle. Or it might have a crystal that can make fire from sunlight. Or it might have a gem with a point hard enough to inscribe things on stones. All manner of things. Practical Things, though, is what I’m saying. Things that would have bordered on magic when the first humans had access to these tools.

So that for the tools. But what about Spells?

I don’t know how witching on the internet works. I’m old. But I’m going to tell you how a money spell I’ve used works, and that will give you an insight into my brand of witching and magic maybe. What you do is, you put a container on your altar (you have an altar. No, you DO. It’s either that place your keys and wallet always wind up, or the desk you do your creating at, or the spot next to the stove that’s supposed to be clear space but your cutting board and favorite knife is always there in front of jars of your favorite seasonings even though technically all that stuff has other places they are supposed to be kept. Sadly it might be your TV. These places fill altar functions. Unless you have a specially designated altar somewhere else already, of course) ANYway, you take a container, the bigger it is the stronger the spell but also the more time and effort it will take. Anyway, you put it on your altar. You stand in front of your altar and you make a solemn promise to put every penny you find there, in that container. Only literal penny coins, mind you. You vow to fill it to overflowing. You get an image in your head of what that looks like, and you concentrate on that, and you dedicate yourself to arriving in a universe in which this image is a reality. Basically, by spending time and energy on the promise, you make yourself take it seriously. You decide what you will do with those pennies. Be standing there making your penny collecting vow when you decide on that thing. It must be a whole thing, don’t add them to other money for anything, and don’t spend them on things you already set money aside for regularly; ideally you pair what you are doing with those pennies to concepts of reward and/or sacrifice. So you could vow to take them to a wishing fountain and throw them all in yourself or give them to other people to make wishes, or decide to take them all to a dessert place you like but rarely go to, and spend them on your favorite dessert they have for you or your bestie (fountain or cake, you walk away from spending them without owning anything more than when you started - hence an aspect of sacrifice… eating the pennies as cake or throwing them out as an offering is the same as burning them in a fire in many ways) And - this is important - you think about how money is desirable and vital enough that even the smallest possible increment, the lowly penny, is still worth handling and saving and spending in a planned and disciplined fashion. You THINK about that. Then you go about your life. But as you do so, you pick up and pocket every single penny you see. Pennies are worth so little, that we would often rather dump one in the garbage than pick through the dustpan to save it, but that’s not you anymore. Now, you will cross the street to pick one up out of the gutter if you see one. You’ll still put your change in the tip jar, but you’ll hold back the pennies. The more crazy into this you are, the stronger the spell… top-tier witches doing this spell would wade waist deep in cow poop to acquire a single shit-stained penny. You’re on a mission. You’ve made a promise. And you’re witching. When you get home with these pennies, at some point you’ll put them in the container on your altar. Each time you do, because of how brains work, you’ll be reminded of your promise. You’ll see your vision of overflowing coins again. You’ll imagine how fun the wishing fountain is going to be, or how delicious the cake is going to taste. And - this is important - you’ll think about how money is so desirable and vital that that even the smallest possible increment is worth handling and saving and spending in a planned and disciplined fashion. It may take you weeks to fill the container. It may take you months. But when you are done, when you have completed your vow, dispense the pennies as you planned. Don’t forget to give it extra time here. Look lovingly at the vision you have manifested, at the overflowing container when you have filled it. Feel the weight of it. Count them, roll them, recognize specific pennies that look different, think about pennies you collected in memorable ways. Fill yourself with pride and satisfaction, and carry that feeling with you to the fountain, to the dessert shop. Let your planned activity at that place magnify those feelings, reinforce those feelings. This is the culmination of the spell, the fireball leaving the tip of the wand -- experience the wonder and power of what you have done. See, true witching is, at its heart, extremely practical. It’s just a way for a human being to use intuition to reach truths housed in the dark mystery of our beings that science is only recently able to shed some light on. Things like how wearing clothes you perceive as “tough” will actually make you produce more “tough” chemicals like testosterone and adrenaline (according to studies that measured hormone levels of people switching between wearing leather jackets and pink dresses) or how if you BELIEVE a substance is medication, it can have some curative effects even if it’s just a sugar pill (placebos). Witching is often just working with these realities without access to detailed knowledge of all the science behind it.

Anyhow, when this spell is done, you will see money differently. Your spending habits will be different. You’ll think about money differently. Throwing your change in the tip jar won’t be a mindless activity, and maybe it makes you realize how little you’re actually putting in there and you wind up spending more money on tips than you used to - that’s okay, that’s good, the fact is, the thing you are doing with that money, how you chose to allocate your change from buying a cup of coffee, that is no longer an activity that you don’t really pay attention to; you put thought into it now. Money will have more value, now that not only are you WILLING to pick though dirt for a single cent, but it is actually habit to do so if you see one. Now something is no longer “just a dollar” it is ONE HUNDRED CENTS, and you have a visceral understanding of how much each of those cents is worth to you. And - this is important - you have completed an exercise in money management, wherein you dedicated to a planned expenditure, saved up the necessary funds, and followed through, laying paths in your neural network that take long enough to become habit and end in reward experience (it doesn’t have to be cake, simply completing your plan will give you the reward feelings, like finishing a video game level). You did this without having to change your finances, expenditures, or budget. It was just pennies, it wasn’t like when you try to save for a vacation and the saving is like a new bill you struggle to pay. This fit into your budget like it was nothing. Like it was extra money from nowhere, like it was… magic. The effects will keep spreading, rippling, transforming your life, your RELATIONSHIP with money will have been transformed, in a way too big to fully understand all implications - maybe people see a change in how you are with money and become more likely to trust you with it, more willing to loan you some when you need it. Maybe this will have filled you with ideas for other money management goals and the confidence to see them through and who knows where that will lead you? There is so much mystery and interconnection in this universe, the effects may well be long lasting and incredibly impactful. And that’s how a witch does a money spell. imo. Obviously, if you’ve read the first part of this post, you know I’m not saying this is how all magic works, or that there is no true mystery -- after all, did i not get suddenly taken to a casino for 15 minutes one morning so Grandma could win that poker jackpot with a royal flush in clubs that her late husband told her about in a dream? Clearly there is a great mysticism in the universe. But in my experience, much of the day to day experience of life and magic for a witch is rooted in practical practices.

Now go have fun darlings, and make magic happen

#witching #witchcraft #witch #witchery

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