#swift wings and a brave heart
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werewolf steve, werebat eddie (ch2)
🦇🧥🦇
Eddie’s knee bounces in the stationary van parked outside the Harrington house; he stares down at the open Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual clutched between his arms, flipping between the werewolf and the dire wolf. A drawing of the former has it standing upright, muscled and snarling with outstretched claws; his eyes are drawn to chaotic evil.
He knows that Steve isn’t evil. He does. The man who had spent hours next to Eddie at his hospital bedside showed an honour and trustworthiness that had drawn Eddie in even before he’d recognised it.
No, the caring guy he’s come to know is about as far from an alignment that lacks compassion and kills for sport as someone could get. That Steve is capable of wielding a nail-bat against the monsters of the Upside Down only lends an appealingly chaotic feel to the man Eddie had begun to think of as a rogue knight.
Sighing, he flips to the other page held open by his spare hand: dire wolf. Unaligned and a beast advantaged by its pack, this seems like Steve’s speed. Resembling his transformed self more acutely with its simple, albeit large wolf appearance. His finger stops on the bloodied maw, but the idea of it is still terrifying.
Reluctantly, he turns to the page he’s now memorised by heart. Man-shaped, this monster growls with open fangs too; sharp tapered ears are fixed on a figure draped in an aristocratic overcoat and cape. Finger trembling, he traces undead and lawful evil before pausing over bat polymorph as one of the vampire’s characteristics.
A loud bang smacks against the side of the van and Eddie jumps high enough to hit his head on the Chevrolet’s roof. “Ow, Christ!” He hisses, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Dustin grinning at him through the closed window.
“Come on,” he shouts, “Everyone’s here!”
Eddie scowls, leaving behind the manual to tumble out of the van. Dustin immediately starts pushing him from behind and Eddie whacks at him with his hands, “Lay off, man. I’m coming, okay.”
Dustin hums doubtfully, “Yeah, but I watched you sit in the van for the last ten minutes and that was only after I noticed you’d arrived. Who knows how long it was going to take you?”
He quickly opens the front door before Dustin pushes him right smack into it, but the younger boy continues shoving at Eddie until he stumbles into Steve’s living room. In a similar configuration to yesterday’s intervention, the party sits, lounges, or stands about the room, quietly talking.
On the couch, Robin sits cross-legged with Steve who’s flipping through a magazine. Eddie’s relieved to see that all four limbs are human-shaped, and mouth only curved into a soft pout as he contemplates the article in front of him.
Everyone pauses to look over at their loud entrance. Steve glances up and, meeting his calm expression, Eddie almost blushes at how uncoordinated he must have looked falling through the door. He averts his gaze to El who approaches him with an outstretched palm, “Are you ready?”
Eddie sighs but takes her hand; she leads him to the open floor and they sit across from each other, “Yeah, we might as well do this. So, you’re going to force the bat out or something?”
“There’s no guarantee that you can shift,” Lucas leans back against the wall next to Will with casually folded arms. “You could be a normal human with bat scars and that’s it.”
“Or I could be a vampire of the night,” Eddie counters darkly. “I’ve been craving meat lately.”
Max rolls her eyes, “You have not, you big liar. I saw you scoffing down Honey Crunch on your front porch only two days ago.”
“Yeah, well, I was high. Maybe weed mellows out the beast.”
Eddie’s gaze flies to Steve when he snorts, but Steve looks away, concentrating on the magazine that Eddie suddenly suspects he’s not actually reading.
The thought that he’s avoiding Eddie stirs a familiar sense of guilt, giving rise to the niggle that he’d tried to forget after the wolf left yesterday, further punctuated by Robin’s distinct stink-eye. Even amidst the fear that had gripped him, he’d been able to see a sad, dejected version of Steve in the down-turned tail and slow trudge away.
“I'm going to take you into the void,” El says, holding out both her hands over her knees and Eddie takes them at her urging. “When I visit Steve there, he is able to feel the wolf and communicate with him.”
“I sort of see him next to me, if it helps,” Steve finally pipes up, watching Eddie warily like he’s expecting him to reject the advice, but Eddie only nods grimly. He’s going to need all the tips he can get he suspects. “Do I let it possess me or something?”
Steve frowns, a hint of reproach about him, “My wolf doesn’t posses me, he is me. Just like I’m him.” He shakes his head at Eddie’s confusion, “If you have a bat or a vampire or, I don’t know, maybe you’ll have a wolf too, then just reach out to him. He wants to be a part of you and you’ll both figure it out from there.”
Eddie looks into the steady gaze of Steve’s hazel eyes and feels it like a hand over his own: Steve has done this before, and successfully. He just needs to trust in the rogue knight one more time. “Okay,” he says, closing his eyes and following El’s lead.
🐺🐺🐺
Steve throws his Fine Gardening magazine onto the coffee table and leans against Robin’s shoulder, she presses back. “Does it usually take this long with me,” he murmurs, trying to keep quiet for the two sitting silently in the middle of the room. Both El and Eddie have their eyes closed and hands clasped with the other. Max had turned the television to a snowy channel to help channel El’s concentration with the static sound.
She hums a negative, “But then, you two only did it to play around and see if there was more you could learn about yourself. This is Eddie trying to find out whether he even has another version to turn into.”
She grabs his arm suddenly, “Wait.” Steve blinks, unsure of what he’d seen other than to describe it as a pulse around Eddie. A long beat passes before the trick of the eye flickers again, so quickly that Steve can’t be sure of what he’s seeing.
In one rapid swoop, the air around Eddie contracts, pulling abruptly inwards until Eddie the human disappears to be replaced with a bat standing unsteadily in front of El. He blinks wide eyes, faltering on tiny feet before stumbling over to land on his back.
Eddie squawks in what Steve thinks is shock before frantically flapping his extended wings and tossing over to push up into the air, erratically darting around the suddenly panicking humans.
With one wing beating harder than the other, he drunkenly tilts and rolls into Mike’s long hair. Shrieking, Mike pulls Eddie out and flings him away even while crying out, “Shit! Sorry, Eddie! Sorry!”
Eddie cries out himself and flutters, gaining his momentum only to slam into the wall with a thump next to Dustin who leaps forward trying to catch him, but Eddie desperately twists before leaping higher, aiming for the peak of the ceiling.
“Catch him,” Will yells as Lucas runs out of the room.
“I’m trying,” Dustin shrieks in a tone that matches the high screeches of Eddie above them.
Robin shrugs off her boxy jacket, “Wait, I’ve got this.” She advances on Eddie as he zig zags against the wall again, but he must see her as a large threatening animal because he chitters wildly before smacking his wings at her face. Robin yelps and falls, only narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the ground by Max urgently jumping underneath to stop her rapid descent.
Lucas skids into the living room, triumphantly holding aloft the large pool skimmer usually stored in the garden shed. “Steve,” he yells before throwing it across the room.
Steve deftly catches the long handle in the air and, with a twist of his wrist, scoops Eddie mid-flight. Quickly flipping the pole, he entangles his small body in the net.
Panting or, in Mike’s case, holding down his hair, the group silently gather around the squirming bat version of Eddie as he shrieks and tries to bite his way out of the thin rope.
Steve thinks of his first fumbling and panicked steps: the distinct difference between having two legs extended to four, not even at the right height, let alone the terror of suddenly having a completely different way of looking and feeling the world had been indescribable. There are still scratches in the wooden floorboards from how hard he had dug his claws in to stop his legs from skidding in all directions.
“Back up, guys,” he says softly, keeping his tone low and soothing. “Hey, Eddie, hey,” he shushes, positioning the net against his torso so he can roll Eddie out of the mesh without letting him escape. Everyone steps back or sits in a chair, and Steve brings Eddie higher up to his chest so he can meet the eyes of the little guy.
Although his thinking or way of interpreting his surroundings may be a little different, Steve is always aware of the world as he would be as a human, and he can see that it’s the same for Eddie. The big wet eyes of his bat form aren’t that different from his human ones, Steve thinks, a little amused even while worried at how hard Eddie is panting.
“It’s okay,” Steve says, “You’re okay, you’re with friends, and this isn’t permanent. You’re just a bat for a little bit, Eddie, and you’ll be human in no time. Okay? You’re okay.” He keeps repeating reassuring nonsense, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around squirming wings and resting Eddie against his heart.
As a wolf, Steve likes to lay his head over Robin’s heart, likes the proof that she is alive and well under him, and often finds himself calming under her steady thump, thump, thump.
Under his fingers, he can feel the frantic thrumming of Eddie’s heart start to calm too.
“That’s good,” he croons softly, stroking his thumb over the soft down of Eddie’s head. He takes stock of the little body in front of him: over Eddie’s nose the bridge is one long stripe of white, the rest of him covered in a deep brown while the ruff of his neck is almost golden, his ears are tapered as is the long tip of his pink tongue.
They all watch while Steve successfully calms Eddie as if he is a baby cradled to him. “Do you think that’s a were thing?” Asks Lucas, peering at Eddie as his breathing slows down, he blinks back up at him.
“I don’t know,” Will says thoughtfully, “Steve is pretty soothing to have around.” El nods while Mike shoots his friend a look of betrayal.
Steve rolls his eyes, “He was just scared. Look, now he’s had a moment to chill he’s with us again.” And, sure enough, little Eddie’s eyes are drooping as Steve continues to lightly pat him, clearly relaxing into the comforting gesture. He loosens his hold, still keeping a firm grip but not so tightly in fear of Eddie struggling again.
Max snorts as she peers down, “Oh yeah, there’s the big bad metalhead everyone fears.”
Eddie’s closing eyes snap open with a glare and he squeaks at her. Unfortunately, Steve thinks, the cuteness of it all only supports Max’s teasing. Robin meets his eyes over the kids’ heads and silently laughs in agreement.
“Okay,” Steve orders, “I think the lot of us in the same room may be too much for him right now. You guys skedaddle and we’ll let you know when he’s back to rights.”
Dustin looks doubtful, “What can you do that we can’t?”
Robin snorts, “Uh, Dusty-bun, Steve is literally the expert in this room when it comes to were-changes. You can’t research your way out of this one.”
Dustin grumps, “I could. If we didn’t have Steve, I could absolutely be the one to help him get back to normal.” He turns to the backpack shoved against the table. “Here,” he says, pulling out two books with photos of bats across the covers. Steve peers further into the bag and can see back-ups that apparently didn’t pass muster. “These are the books I brought on bats. If he starts craving blood, let me know — I have more on vampires when he needs them.”
Max takes them from his hands while Lucas steers Dustin towards the front door, where they’d left their bikes outside. Mike mutters a mocking noise that sounds like skedaddle and, with that, the room falls silent once more.
Robin and Steve look over at Max as she falls back onto the couch with El quickly following behind. She stares back belligerently, “What? Mom dropped me off and Eddie was our ride back.” El crosses her arms with a serene smile.
Steve sighs, “Okay, but we’re not doing anything exciting and you guys are making dinner.” The girls readily agree, heating leftovers from Steve’s fridge and serving the four of them as they sit in the living room, eating while watching a Bewitched marathon. At Steve’s instruction, Robin had brought down his blue hoodie with its tunnel-like pocket over his belly.
Little Eddie had curled up inside of it and Steve keeps one hand over him to provide what he hopes feels like shelter and comfort; under it, he can feel the heat of his small body and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“You look like you’re pregnant,” Robin acerbically observes from the other end of the couch, feet crossed into her lap for the lotus position.
“Does that mean that I can finally eat butterscotch ice cream without you making that face?” He counters with a bitchy expression back.
“What face?” She protests even as she makes The Face. Max rises her brow to Steve, “Why does she look like that?”
“That summer at Scoops maybe put her off some flavours for life,” he shares. El ignores them all in favour of watching Samantha wiggling her nose to float Darrin out of a tree.
“If I have to smell USS Butterscotch one more time, I’m going to puke — lack of pregnancy be damned,” Robin warns.
The commercials blares once Samantha finishes rescuing her husband, and El moves to peek inside the hoodie, tentatively extending a finger and gasping when Eddie’s little bat foot comes out to grip it. “He feels so soft.”
Steve snickers at Robin and he thinks he feels what’s supposed to be a bat bite through the cotton in retaliation, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of sharp fangs behind it. He sobers for the younger members of the room, “Yeah, but he can’t stay this way forever. Can you sense anything from him, El?”
She closes her eyes while continuing to hold Eddie’s foot, “He is not upset like earlier, but I don’t think he is ready to come back to being human-Eddie yet either.”
Steve looks worriedly down at the bump over his stomach, “Is he okay? I ran around a lot at first too, but once I figured out what was happening I tried to turn human again as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, but you also didn’t know that it was possible to turn back to human,” Robin points out. “He could be chilling ‘cause he knows that everything is going to be okay.”
El hums, “No, I do not think that’s it.” She shrugs, gently untangling Eddie’s clawed toes to lean back into Max who shifts an arm and drapes it over El’s shoulders comfortingly. “But he is not willing to share either. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Robin reassures her as she peeks into the other end of the pocket, smirking as she waggles a playful finger at him. Steve can see the wide, wet eyes of Eddie peeking out at her in curiosity. “Maybe he knows that he’s cuter as a bat than as a stinky human boy.”
Eddie glares and snaps his small teeth in the air before sullenly turning, curling up and facing the other way. Once again, a small hidden lump in the hoodie. Steve sighs, “We’ll give him the night and, if he’s not back tomorrow, maybe you can look for him in the void, El? Ask him what’s going on or guide him back to being human again. Whatever it is that he needs since it’s not working for him right now.”
He glances at the stairs, “Do you guys want to stay over? You can sleep in one of the spare rooms?”
“I call third bedroom,” Robin calls, standing up decisively, “Second bedroom has a weird smell.” She points her finger at Steve’s opening mouth, “I don’t care if you can’t smell anything, which, weird. Since you’re the one with the super nose these days.”
She grimaces and says more quietly, “I don’t think I can bunk up tonight, all the screaming got me…” She waggles her hand around her ears and Steve nods, knowing that she needs some quiet time after a lot of stimulation.
Max smirks and takes El by the hand, “That’s cool, we can’t smell whatever weirdo smell your nose is picking up. Night guys.” The girls wave before heading upstairs and Steve shuts off the television.
Picking his way through the house he double checks that the windows and doors are locked before turning off the lights and heading to bed. Lying down, he snuggles little Eddie to him, the small body already curled on top of his chest and asleep.
If you enjoyed anything of this I hope you'll consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 - it would make my day! 💖🦇🐺💖
#steddie#swift wings and a brave heart#this is just a fun fic while I edit Copper Boy so I'm not being too formal with blogging. as you can see lol#for any newbies - I always post on ao3 first before blogging if you're wondering why you're seeing this chapter#werewolf steve harrington#bat eddie munson#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things
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Emergency request:
Hey I hope it's okay if I request some comfort with Hawks. I've had struggled for a long time now never really telling anyone even though I have had times where I got anxiety/panic attacks almost daily. Mostly because of some family issues and having to had been safe place and supporter for both my younger siblings and a mother. (there has happened a lot but I won't go to any specific details) It was both freeing and terrifying to have moved on my own since I felt like I had in a way less responsibility havig to just look after myself and do what I want. But I also felt anxious of not really knowing what's going at home and feeling like I wasn't really needed anymore. Not really getting many calls to ask how I was doing or if I do it quickly becomes a 'rant' of what's going on in their life, even though it's much better now than few years back.
I'm finally getting help and send a text to my school psychologist because I have been pretty exhausted about everything building up and not really attending to school either. But I'm proud for finally going to talk there and hopefully getting some more help. I'm just anxious of how no one really knows how much I have been struggling and thinks I'm doing well and I don't know how I'm going to face them telling them if I can't continue school at this moment.. Meaning I would have to break the illusion of how I really am.. I'm just used to keeping it inside but I'm trying to break out of that.. but it's scary xd
I'm sorry for the long explanation I don't mean to vent I'm bad at summarizing stuff. There's absolutely no pressure to write this and I wish you have an amazing day! I wanto say I really love your blog and all your amazing writings!❤️
A/N: I apologize for posting this after the 48-hour emergency request window; I've been quite busy recently. I want you to know that reaching out for help is a brave and significant step. You don't have to carry this burden alone, and it's okay to break the illusion. Your well-being matters, and I'm proud of you for taking care of yourself. It may be scary, but you're on the path to healing, and there's strength in vulnerability! Keep moving forward, and things will get better ♥
EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST
Hawks had always been known for his swiftness, both in the skies and in his hero duties. But today, as he received your message and read through the turmoil you'd been enduring, he realized that some things couldn't be rushed. He knew that your struggles had been hidden beneath a brave facade for far too long. As he flew toward your place, he used a few of his feathers to discreetly check in on you. They slipped through the slightly ajar window, silently sensing your distress and heavy sighs.
You sat alone, enveloped in the suffocating embrace of your inner demons; your apartment dimly lit, and your heart heavy with the weight of your struggles. The room was filled with a haunting silence, only broken by the occasional distant sirens of the city.
When he finally landed on your balcony, and knocked gently, you were startled, not expecting him to actualy show up. Opening the balcony door, his wings cast a shadow over you. His usually confident demeanor was replaced with an air of solemnity.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, both surprised and touched by his presence.
He gave you a soft, sympathetic smile and stepped inside. "I read your message, and I couldn't just ignore it. You really thought I won't check upon you, songbird? Can I come in?"
Nodding, you led him to your living room, where you both settled on the couch. The weight of your troubles hung heavy in the air, and Hawks knew he needed to tread carefully. "I know this might be difficult," Hawks began gently, "but you don't have to carry this alone anymore. You can talk to me, whatever it might be about."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally allowed yourself to speak, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. You shared your anxiety, panic attacks, and the overwhelming sense of responsibility for your family's well-being.
Hawks listened intently, his red wings folding around you protectively as you poured out your heart. "You don't have to hide your pain. It's okay to be vulnerable."
"But what if they see me differently now since I moved out?" you whispered, fear lacing your voice. "What if they think I don't care about them anymore? What if they'll consider me weak if I tell them about my school?"
Hawks leaned closer, his feather-light touch soothing. "Strength isn't about never feeling weak. It's about facing your vulnerabilities and seeking support when you need it, even if you're a pro hero. And believe me, there's nothing weak about that. About the situation with your family - I'm sure they'll finally accept your decision about moving out. Give them time and with small gestures show them that you still care."
As you continued to talk, Hawks offered reassuring words, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. He spoke of his own struggles, sharing stories of the pressure and loneliness that came with being a hero.
Hawks gently brushed his feathers against your cheek, a gesture filled with tenderness. "You're not alone in this, okay? I'll be here for you whenever you need me, and I'll support you through the tough times."
Tears streamed down your face as you gazed at him, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you, Keigo. I don't know what I would've done without you today."
He smiled softly, his golden eyes reflecting genuine care. "Anytime, kid. Remember, you've got wings of your own, and you can soar through anything."
#emergency request#hawks x you#hawks fluff#keigo takami x you#mha hcs#takami keigo#keigo x reader#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami x y/n#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#hawks hcs#bnha fluff#mha fluff#hawks fanfiction#keigo takami fluff
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by PaperBackRibs
The beast stops, gaze narrowing to the pulse-pounding in Eddie’s neck, and he quickly slaps a hand over it, trying to limit the temptation of the tasty blood-slash-fresh meat vibe he must be giving off.
Robin scowls at Eddie, stepping forward to bury her hand comfortingly into the plush at its furry neck. “Don’t listen to him, Steve. He’s just being a big baby."
Eddie has never been a normal type of guy, but being told that his new bat bites might mean that he's a shifter like Steve has him reeling.
Words: 2941, Chapters: 1/9, Language: English
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Additional Tags: Werewolf Steve Harrington, Bat Eddie Munson, Werewolves, Shapeshifting, Eddie Munson Lives, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst
#stranger things#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#stranger things fic#ao3feed
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How many of these "Top 100 Books to Read" have you read?
(633) 1984 - George Orwell
(616) The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
(613) The Catcher In The Rye - J.D. Salinger
(573) Crime And Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(550) Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
(549) The Adventures Of Tom And Huck - Series - Mark Twain
(538) Moby-Dick - Herman Melville
(534) One Hundred Years Of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
(527) To Kill A Mockingbird - Harper Lee
(521) The Grapes Of Wrath - John Steinbeck
(521) Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
(492) Pride And Prejudice - Jane Austen
(489) The Lord Of The Rings - Series - J.R.R. Tolkien
(488) Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
(480) Ulysses - James Joyce
(471) Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
(459) Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
(398) The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(396) Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
(395) To The Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf
(382) War And Peace - Leo Tolstoy
(382) The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway
(380) The Sound And The Fury - William Faulkner
(378) Alice's Adventures In Wonderland - Series - Lewis Carroll
(359) Frankenstein - Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
(353) Heart Of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
(352) Middlemarch - George Eliot
(348) Animal Farm - George Orwell
(346) Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
(334) Slaughterhouse-Five - Kurt Vonnegut
(325) Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
(320) Harry Potter - Series - J.K. Rowling
(320) The Chronicles Of Narnia - Series - C.S. Lewis
(317) Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
(308) Lord Of The Flies - William Golding
(306) Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison
(289) The Golden Bowl - Henry James
(276) Pale Fire - Vladimir Nabokov
(266) Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
(260) The Count Of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
(255) The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy - Series - Douglas Adams
(252) The Life And Opinions Of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman - Laurence Sterne
(244) Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
(237) Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackery
(235) The Trial - Franz Kafka
(233) Absalom, Absalom! - William Faulkner
(232) The Call Of The Wild - Jack London
(232) Emma - Jane Austen
(229) Beloved - Toni Morrison
(228) Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
(224) A Passage To India - E.M. Forster
(215) Dune - Frank Herbert
(215) A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man - James Joyce
(212) The Stranger - Albert Camus
(209) One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey
(209) The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(206) Dracula - Bram Stoker
(205) The Picture Of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
(197) A Confederacy Of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
(193) Mrs. Dalloway - Virginia Woolf
(193) The Age Of Innocence - Edith Wharton
(193) The History Of Tom Jones, A Foundling - Henry Fielding
(192) Under The Volcano - Malcolm Lowry
(190) The Odyssey - Homer
(189) Gulliver's Travels - Jonathan Swift
(188) In Search Of Lost Time - Marcel Proust
(186) Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
(185) An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser
(182) The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
(180) Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse
(179) The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann
(178) Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe
(178) Tropic Of Cancer - Henry Miller
(176) The Outsiders - S.E. Hinton
(176) On The Road - Jack Kerouac
(175) The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
(173) The Giver - Lois Lowry
(172) Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
(172) A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess
(171) Charlotte's Web - E.B. White
(171) The Ambassadors - Henry James
(170) Infinite Jest - David Foster Wallace
(167) The Complete Stories And Poems - Edgar Allen Poe
(166) Ender's Saga - Series - Orson Scott Card
(165) In Cold Blood - Truman Capote
(164) The Wings Of The Dove - Henry James
(163) The Adventures Of Augie March - Saul Bellow
(162) As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner
(161) The Hunger Games - Series - Suzanne Collins
(158) Anne Of Greene Gables - L.M. Montgomery
(157) Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
(157) Neuromancer - William Gibson
(156) The Help - Kathryn Stockett
(156) A Song Of Ice And Fire - George R.R. Martin
(155) The Good Soldier - Ford Madox Ford
(154) The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
(153) I, Claudius - Robert Graves
(152) Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys
(151) The Portrait Of A Lady - Henry James
(150) The Death Of The Heart - Elizabeth Bowen
#books#book lists#p#im posting this so i can reblog it with my own crossed out list and i encourage others to do the same if you want to#i dont actually know how many ive read yet myself
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there is silence after the storm (the silence isn't all that quiet)
Hello! This is my my gift for @xexpaguette for the @technoblade-gift-exchange !!! I really hope you enjoy! :D It's also available to read on Ao3!
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The air is bitter cold and electric, tinged with the remarkably copper-esqe scent of blood.
Another body folds and collapses onto the ground with a resounding thud. Towering over the fallen soldier, Technoblade shifts the weight of his ax from one hand to the other. Grace with a lull in the chaos, he tilts his head and lifts up his cape. Blood of the enemy stains the fabric, and—
Techno clicks his tongue in disdain. "Aww, what—bruh, I just stitched this this morning,” Techno complains to the lifeless corpse at his feet as he gestures a new tear that swipes through his cape. “Next time, can your buddies aim right and not ruin my stitch work? Kay, thanks.”
A gust of wind brushes across his back in a way that feels more like a reassuring pat on the back. Laughter rings through the sky, delighted in a sick way given the gruesome remains of the battlefield. Philza lands with a graceful flap of his wings.
“They fuck up your cape already? You worked so hard on it, too,” Phil laments, though with a teasing look on his face. Behind him, a man sprints toward the pair, but neither of them flinch. In swift motions, Phil tightens his grip of his sword handle, and strikes in the space under his armpit without even turning around. The sword pierces through the soldier’s abdomen. Phil’s smile doesn’t waver, and he continues to speak over the last blood-filled, guttural noises of the soldier in the snow, “Really inconsiderate of ‘em.”
“Exactly. See, these guys had it comin’.”
Over a hill in the fair distance, Technoblade watches a crowd of men rallying, waving a banner that certainly does not proclaim the Antarctic Empire . Thereafter, the men descend down the hill, but the remains of the army splits slightly, attempting to take on the emperors in opposite directions. They look like ants from this far. Fitting.
Phil casts a glance at the approaching armies. He clicks his tongue. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it. I’m almost glad these fuckers invaded us. There were, like, five meetings in a row planned today, and man, would that have sucked!”
“Yeah, I dunno what we were thinking then, aside from ‘Ah, that’s future Technoblade and Philza’s problem!’,” Techno mutters as the faint roar of the crowd grows nearer. Their shoulders tense up, postures straightening. “Yeah, no, this is way more fun.”
“Though the cleanup, not so much,” Phil says, lips pulled back in a grimace. Surrounding them is a macabre arrangement of corpses. Most of the snow has become a spectrum from pink-ish to the darkest of reds from the blood spilt like the rainfalls of hell.
The battlecries of the approaching enemies has become thunderous, though Technoblade is not deterred for even a moment. The co-emperors bump shoulders, backs against one another. Phil’s wings spread wide, visible even in Techno’s peripheral, as black as the void Itself. Bloodstains that are most certainly not Phil’s marr the angel’s otherwise pristine feathers. They look as sharp as blades, ready to slice through delicate skin. Though their sharpness can only be matched with the ax in Technoblade’s clutches paired with Techno’s boundless strength.
One of the soldiers approaches, brave in the most foolish of ways. He screams, a sword raised to spear through Technoblade’s heart. Over his shoulder, he can hear the horrific screams of men falling at Philza’s behest. The man in front of Technoblade never makes so much as a dent in Techno’s armor.
Technoblade stands tall, intimidating to anyone who hasn’t seen him grumbling and with bedhead in the early morning. The soldier freezes, paralyzed like a prey caught in the clutches of a ruthless predator.
Technoblade raises his ax, ready to strike into the poor man’s skull. He heaves it over his head in an arc and —
And Technoblade strikes the earth with his somewhat rusted hoe. He carves into the freshly raked dirt, dragging his tool until it forms a single neat line. The harsh sun beats down as he works, his head and face veiled by a sunhat the woman at the accessory shop in town offered to him on one of their first visits.
After quickly watering the freshly picked area, Techno kneels onto the grass. He picks out the tomato seeds he recently bought and sets them in a straight line down the drill. The earth is cool against his skin as he buries the seeds a bit. Dirt catches on his hooved appendages. It's refreshing, in a way. With a final pat, he flattens the dirt over the seeds, soothing over the coarse lines.
With the seeds prepared for growth, Technoblade sits back for a moment. He wipes the sweat dripping over his brow. There’s a serene warmth in the air, comforting but something he still needs to adjust to. The colder environments, the arctic, the tundra, they always called to him, like an instinct that leads you home. But here, the spring and summers are warm. The change is good, he thinks.
He brushes his dirt-caked hands over his patched up work pants. The rest of his crops are gradually growing, this early in the summer. The orange heads of the carrots are beginning to reveal themselves from the depths of the earth. The zucchini will take some time, as well, just planted earlier this week. Soon enough, though, the garden will thrive, and the thought alone is satisfying.
As he begins to stand, there’s a strain in his back. He arches his body to crack the tense muscles. As he stretches, somewhere in the corner of his vision, there’s a flicker of movement. He stiffens, and the voice immediately soar through his skull. Danger, danger, someone’s here! His heart thuds, blood pounding in his eardrums.
Before he can retrieve his ax, however, the sight of a small creature trotting across the top of the fence quells his nerves. He groans into his hand. A cat roams over his front yard so casually, without a care in the world. Like it owns the fence.
“Hullo,” he greets it automatically, despite never receiving a response back.
It flicks its tail in response. Rude.
He grabs a bowl from inside the house, fills it with water, and places it on the ground close to where the cat now comfortable sits.
This same stray pops up now and again, just wandering the outskirts of town or sneaking inside buildings within town, as well. No one ever minds, as it never causes trouble. Though no one has laid claim on it yet, apparently.
It has black and white fur. Its front paws are pure white, and pure black for its back paws.
With a slight pang in his chest, he wonders how Ranboo is doing.
He hasn’t gotten the chance to see the kid since he was revived. All he knows is that Ranboo now lives in the depths of the Nether, living peacefully with his son. I need to visit sometime, Technoblade silently declares. There’s a lot he needs to say, he feels. And maybe a hug or two is in order.
But that’s for another day. For now, the rest of his plants call to him, begging to be watered lest the sun dry them up. He grabs the watering can and gets to work.
❁❁❁
Among the swirling rational thoughts telling him against otherwise, despite the reminders from Technoblade, Philza still looks at the woman in her fifties standing on the other side of the counter with a sneer, and he thinks, I could take her in a fight.
Hey, it’s not his fault that the woman selling quality bread is scamming this town. Three loaves of bread for four emeralds! He’s certainly not going to put up with any of that. Even if she refuses to budge on her pricing. Even though no one else in town seems to have the same thoughts as he.
But the market is crowded today, with many eyes ready to lock on if Phil starts anything. So he bites his tongue, and he keeps his arms to his sides. He takes the deal, grabs the bread, and walks away before she decides to raise the prices on him once more.
The bread was the last thing on their short list of food to grab from the market today. So it is when the town’s market is thriving most, crowds gathering to take great advantage of deals on food and trinkets, that Philza looks at the filled basket in his arm and thinks, Alright, I’m getting the fuck outta here before I get us banned from the market.
He was never one for crowds, never will be. His wings remain tightened against his back. Restraining them is like a chokehold sometimes, but he eventually maneuvers through the crowd of people. He just wants to go back home, in the middle of the woods with his best friend and with enough space to spread out his aching wings.
Philza only stops when he comes across a cart selling pastries. The lady who owns the bakery stands behind the cart with a bored countenance. He forgets her name at the moment; he’s always been kind of shit at remembering names. Fresh looking muffins and pies, the sort, are sitting on the cart, begging to be sold.
Every time he passes by the woman’s shop, he can’t help but think that Niki would enjoy the place, maybe even make improvements here and there, ever the determined. She’d have liked it here, maybe…
“Tilly, mind your manners!”
Phil blinks. Behind him stands a sheepish little girl, who scurries behind the pastry counter. Before he can voice his confusion, the pastry woman clears things up. “Sorry, lad, we don’t see a lotta winged folk ‘round these parts, so she’s very interested in ya.” She shakes her head. “Not that that means you can grab a person’s feathers like that, Tilly. ‘S rude.”
“S-Sorry!” a soft voice calls out.
And as the realization of what happened crashes down, Philza brushes it off with a wave and a laugh, trying to hide the disappointment settling in his stomach. Before, he had always been on top of watching over his back and everywhere else around him. No one ever approached his back and made it out alive unless he allowed it. And to think, now a kid can simply come up, pull at the feathers of his ruined wing, and he would’ve been none the wiser if her mother didn’t pipe up.
It’s just a damn kid, relax, he tries to tell himself, because this is merely a mole he’s making a mountain out of, isn’t it? It’s nothing. It’s whatever.
At least the woman, who perhaps sensed his discomfort, offers him a deal on her treats if he buys anything, which he does. Some blueberry muffins and some danish pastries. Sweets weren’t on the list for today, but, well… fuck it.
“Saw you ready to deck it out with Beatrice earlier,” says the pastry woman with a smirk as he turns to leave. “Careful, she packs a mean punch. I’m not saying she could take you in a fight, but…”
“Oh, my god,” Phil says, losing the fight with himself to contain a grin. He snickers. “Please don’t tempt me. We wanna make a good impression around here. You know, not cause trouble or anything."
The woman’s smile becomes more genuine. “Don’t worry about that. You and the pig lad seem like good folk. Town’s certainly talkin’ a bit, but rest assured, it’s plenty of good word bein’ spread.”
The assurance isn't needed, but Phil gives her a kind smile anyway. With a nod, Phil leaves with an overflowing basket, and he walks out of town just before the sun begins to set.
Down the road, a crow soars by, calling out with a low caw, calling out to him. He slows to a stop and watches the bird glide by. It flaps its wide yet dirty feathers as it flies toward a nearby tree for landing… only to smack directly into a branch with a much louder thud than Philza thought possible.
“Jesus christ!” Phil exclaims, hiding his shock-filled laughter behind his fist.
The bird catches itself in the air before it can fall to the ground and further add to its embarrassment. Philza approaches to the bird and offers his arm for perching purposes, rather than letting the bird risk another rough landing.
“Dumbass,” Phil mutters to it with a teasing glint to his eyes. Upon latching its claws on Phil's cloth, the bird’s feathers fluff up, but the bullying is cut short. There's a note tied to its leg. Phil meets its beady little gaze. “What’cha got there?”
Unsurprisingly, its caws give him no helpful answers. He takes the note without another thought, opens it, and immediately stills when he peeks at the bottom. The name of the writer sits clear in the corner, in messy, cursive scrawl.
Wilbur.
A nervous smile catches on his lips. A tense feeling settles in his gut, his stomach twisting like he had taken in an expired meal. He tries to swallow it down, tries to reassure himself. After all, the letter doesn’t start out with anything like Fuck you or Never talk to me again, asshole, so that’s good, right? Things are better now. There's no reason to assume the worst.
“You talked it out,” he reminds himself out loud. The crow chatters, as if in agreement. “Things are okay between you again.” Well, they’re starting to be, Phil mentally adds. Still, he collects his breath.
He’s still a bit away from home, but he can’t even think of letting this letter sit in his pocket unread for even a bit longer. So he begins to read the letter proper.
Hey, Philza. Dadza. Father Minecraft!
Anyway, I wanted to write just to (there’s some unintelligible words scratched out in pen) I don’t know. Catch up, I guess? It’s been a few weeks, hasn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it. My sense of time’s become a bit fucked since limbo, I guess. Haha
I’ll be honest, not much has happened since we were last in touch. It was nice to have you visit, by the way. Still working the same job, still friends with the same people. Nothing extraordinary going on. A part of me can't stand it. Like, I want to do something, you know? B ut I think this is what I need. Somehow. I can’t explain it. Maybe some day it’ll make sense.
I hope you’re doing alright. Technoblade, too. I’d like to visit in the future. Not soon, but I don’t know, whenever I’m ready. I got to know where the two retired Syndicate members are hiding out this time. Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit. I’d like to speak with him. I never got the chance to before shit went down on the server, after all. We got to make amends, but it doesn’t feel like enough, you know?
Wilbur
Phil sighs and folds the letter back up. He’ll need to grab a pen upon his return home. Though he knows it’ll take him all night to come up with the right words, not wanting to step over any invisible lines or say something stupid that will ensnare around Wilbur's mind like barbed wire. But this is better than he had expected. At least he wants to visit, right? That’s a good thing.
Hopefully Techno will stick around long enough for me to visit.
It had always been a joke between them, when Wilbur was younger. Technoblade would stay in town for a few months, then vanish come next morn when he was lured by the need to crush tyranny underneath his worn out boots, or even some espionage a nearby country asked of him. Wilbur had always expressed some form of disappointment when Technoblade was gone for weeks on end, traveling and finding adventure and fun elsewhere, but Philza in turn always reassured his son that he’d return soon. And he always did.
That didn’t make his absence any less disheartening.
And maybe Technoblade will hear those calls again and go running. Philza can't blame him one bit. How long is Technoblade meant for retirement, after all? It’s just a shame that Phil can no longer trail alongside Technoblade, should he find adventure calling to him once more. No longer could he follow like his friend’s shadow, ready to lunge like a monster unleashed. His wings have become more of an obstacle, more of a distraction, than a favored weapon. His right leg aches when storms arise. He even relies on his cane to hold him steady on the worst of days.
Philza is not suited for the battlefield. Not as well as he used to. And he has accepted this, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
With a somber huff of breath, Phil scratches the top of the crow’s head. “Thanks, mate,” he says before heading back home. He needs to hurry. He’s got a letter to write back, and of course, dinner is soon.
⛯⛯⛯
Technoblade is finishing moving the extra bale of hay into the horses’ stables that they built on Phil’s side of their set up when Philza makes his presence known. The fence gate creaks as he enters the stables, the basket clutched in his arm filled to the brim.
“Hey, mate,” he says, pushing the gate shut and walking up to his horse. There’s a gentle smile on his face as he pulls out an apple from the basket. His horse snatches it up within seconds, churring noises of content. On the other side, Technoblade’s horse lets out a haughty snort. “Yeah, I’ll get to you, too!”
“Don’t let him feel left out, Phil. I hear horses carry grudges.”
Phil lets out an amused snort and walks over to Carl’s stable. His wings are fully extended, though dragging a bit against the ground. Surely he’ll complain about the dirt that has caught in his feathers the next time he preens. Though, thinking back on their time in the Dream Essempi, Phil had almost always kept them locked securely to his back as if they were chained up, all tense and hidden away from the rest of the world. Too easy for enemies to grab and use to their advantage, Philza had said at one point. So it's nice to see them compared to those days, messy or otherwise.
“You’re right on time. Food’s just coolin’ off. Made salmon with potatoes and broccoli,” Techno says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. The window is open, letting the scent of the cooked food drift into the air.
Phil’s face splits open with a smile. His fingers brush through Carl’s mane. “Niiiice, man, smells incredible,” he says. He pats the top of the basket. “I got extra sweets while getting everything else. They weren't on the list, but hey, I was definitely needing this after today.”
“Oh, no, what’d you do?”
Phil sputters. “Bruh! Why’re you assumin’ I’m the problem here?” he asks, feigning offense at the statement. His smile gives him away. “For all you know, I could be the lowly victim in this situation.”
“Alright, so was it Beatrice again?” Technoblade asks without missing a beat.
And the way Phil’s nose scrunches up gives Techno the answer he needs. “Honestly, most of the trip was fine. Great, really. But no, I didn’t start a brawl with her in the middle of the market or anything—”
“I literally didn’t even accuse you of that. That just sounds like a self-admittance, really—”
“Okay, so I almost wanted to start a fight with her today, but I didn’t! But the woman who makes the pastries says that she has a mean right hook or something, so maybe it’d be a worthwhile fight,” he finishes with a shrug, as if to say, Why not?
To which Technoblade, well, he can think of at least several reasons.
But still, Techno snorts in amusement, despite his best efforts to keep it in. How Philza, the Angel of Death, has found an opponent in an elderly bread woman, he’ll never know. “Phil, ya tell me some iteration of this story every week, and at this point, I’m expecting her to snap one day and stand by your bedroom door with a chainsaw. Maybe don’t ban us from the bread lady’s market stand, if you can help it. She makes good bread. We like the good bread.”
“Dude, she tried to sell me three loaves of bread for four emeralds! What is that shit?” Phil exclaims in defense of himself. “I’d expect the bread to start doin’ tricks if they’re that expensive, holy shit. She’s puttin’ on a big fuckin’ scam here. If she starts shit again, I’m starting a riot. Savin’ this town from overpriced bread.”
“You’re a true hero, Philza Minecraft,” Technoblade says as they begin to walk back inside his house. He pries through Phil’s basket for a blueberry muffin for a quick bite before dinner. They're a bit too sweet.
Phil snorts, but as a thought seems to cross his mind, the laughter builds. His shoulders tremble in tandem with his laughter. “Ohhh, my god…” he breathes out between fits of giggles, a hand brushing over his face and coming through his messy hair.
“And oh, how the hero falls into madness so quickly,” Techno narrates with dramatic flair, hand over heart and all.
“Oh, fuck off,” Phil waves him off, his laughter dying down. With a drawn out sigh, he holds open Technoblade's front door. “Just, y’know… retirement’s weird, mate.”
Techno briefly shoots him a look. “You’re telling me,” he whispers in agreement.
It’s only been a few weeks, not even two months, since they arrived in the outskirts of this insignificant town. It doesn’t feel real sometimes. He swears some days that he’ll wake up the next morning, and when he looks through the window, a permanent winter will embrace the area, and across the way will be a country ruined by his hands.
But there’s not a country or even a simple town in any nearby vicinity that has been the victim of his destruction. He hasn’t brought any countries to their knees since L’manberg. And it has been well over a year since then, though it feels like lifetimes ago. He feels like a different person since those days. Everything feels different. And that can be a good thing, right?
“How’s the muffin?”
Techno hums. “Good… but they’re not as good as Niki’s, though,” he says, because nothing could compare to the firestarter’s skills. Last they had heard from her, she had found a place to call home on another server, not anywhere near here. But she had sounded content, at peace despite their prior circumstances. Though the Syndicate has been scattered across worlds and landscapes, they’re all happy.
“... Yeah,” Phil says with a forlorn smile.
At least, he hopes they are.
❁❁❁
The chair creaks under his weight as he sits. Phil hands Technoblade a thin blanket as his own sits comfortably across his lap. It’s not terribly cold out, even this late in the evening, but it’s such common practice between them, to sit outside in the middle of the night, warm drinks in hand and swathed in blankets to keep warm. Who is he to break the tradition now, even if they have found shelter in newer, warmer lands?
“Thanks,” Techno mutters, and in turn, hands Phil the cup of coffee he requested.
He never teases Phil for his choice of drink when the sun has long since set. After all, the answer has always been the same: sleep still doesn’t come easy to Phil anyway. Hasn’t in months (years, really). So with a silent nod in thanks, Phil cups the drink in his hands, the warmth curling into his fingertips.
In the distance, the lights in town are dim. Most of the town is in deep sleep with the exception of a few buildings, likely a tavern or your common night owl working among the resting. Above the, crows perch atop both of their roofs, muffled caws breaking the silence.
“Wilbur wrote me earlier,” Phil says. He takes a sip of his coffee. He can feel the caffeine already kicking in.
“Oh, yeah?” Techno asks, interest piqued. They left on okay but still uncertain terms, after all. “What’d he say?”
“Ahh, y’know, he’s getting used to living in Utah again. And he’s wanting to visit. Not right now, but in the future, he’d like to.” Phil opts out of mentioning a few details from Wilbur’s letter for his own sake, though he does add, “He mentioned you, actually. He wants to catch up with you.”
Techno pauses, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You know, that’d be nice, actually. Though, uh, you think he’s actually coming by, hoping to find out that we’re secretly still committing war crimes under the guise of retirement?” he asks, a tiny smirk twitching on his lips.
Phil snorts behind his fist. “You know, he did mention the fact we’re Syndicate members, so that’s not off the table. ‘S not like we even have anything to hide, so he won’t come up with anythin’!”
“Nothing but vegetables and you feuding with the elderly in town.”
Phil bursts out laughing, because the truth is a funny one. After finding a new home to reside in, they had planned to do just that: retire. There were no secret conspiracies hidden in their pockets, no destruction blueprints spread out in a table in the basement. Nothing of the sort. The ex-emperors of the Antarctic Empire, the co-founders of the Syndicate, have essentially retired.
Silence settles after a moment, allowing Philza a chance to really take it all in. Even after a few weeks of taking up residence outside of this nothing town, the realization still throws him off at times. They survived the worst parts of the other server, scarred and broken and a bit sleepless. And now they’re just… here. And Techno tends to a garden that will prosper with time. And on his side, he keeps their horses stationed in a safe stable, and the horses are sleeping soundly. Maybe he can start planting flowers in his yard, liven up the place.
There are no thieves in the night, no greedy hands pilfering Technoblade’s hard work. No, this town seems to mind its own damn business so long as you mind your own. It’s a simple town, with simple people who simply want to enjoy life day-by-day.
Everything is so fucking… simple.
It’s jarring.
“You ever feel like you’re just… waiting for something to come and… ruin it?”
Spurred from his thinking, Phil casts Technoblade a concerned look, a brow raised. It seems that they were sharing the same train of thought. “Like what?” Phil asks anyway.
Technoblade shrugs, not meeting his gaze. “Call it whatever. Karma, revenge, what have you. Just one person showing up—”
“Not like they’d do anything. Not against us,” Phil interrupts him, though not unkindly. He sits cross-legged in the chair. The next drink of his coffee soothes his soul. “What, they gonna take a knife and stab your rutabagas?”
“Not the rutabagas, Phil. What’d they do to you?” Techno asks, feigning an aghast look.
Phil grins. “Don’t worry, man, we’ll get used to it. The whole retirement thing. We-we’re fine out here.” His thumb feels over his cup. “Though I gotta say, I’m a little surprised you’re embracing it so much. Just a little.”
One of Techno’s brows rises. “I dunno, man, you’ve always been the more antsy type. You and your bird instincts.”
“True, true,” Phil concedes with a nod, “but look, loo, you’re always off, traveling and fighting off evil governments and shit. You’ve always had a busy schedule. For fuck’s sake, you missed the server exploding cause of a mission someone gave you!” When he looks down, his coffee cup is empty. His brow twitches, and he forces out a chuckle. “I'm just saying, I’m sure you’ll be gone, beheading shitty corrupt assholes by next month.”
Technoblade doesn’t answer right away, humming as if in thought. Phil internally cringes. What if Techno already has plans to leave soon, even as early as next week? He'll encourage his friend to take the opportunity, but Phil, selfishly, would rather not endure retirement alone...
“I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon,” Technoblade finally says before Philza can spiral and think over the worst case scenario. When Phil looks at him, Techno stares far off into the forest that looms over the town. His posture slouches. “I’m kinda tired, y’know? And I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I’m getting older, Phil. Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, but I can feel it some days.” He rolls his shoulder. “Definitely can’t swing the ax like the olden days. Not as cool as I used to, at least. ‘Cause, wow, did I love showing off a lot.”
“Aww, mate, you’re still cool,” says Phil, bumping his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re still terrifyin’ with that ax.”
Techno’s smile grows, but it doesn't match the far off, thoughtful look in his eyes. “I mean, sure, I enjoy traveling sometimes. But really, I like the quiet, the peace, and, you know, being able to breathe without a knife at my neck if I turn the wrong corner,” he finishes in a quieter voice, scratching the nape of his neck. He clicks his tongue. “The voices aren’t even as bloodthirsty as they used to be, I think.”
“Really?”
“Ayup—okay, okay,” Techno retracts with a swift gesture of his hands, “there’s, like, a few smaller voices that sometimes go, ‘Bruhh, go back to the violence, we’re getting bored of this arc here!’” He shrugs. “But I just ignore it. It’s gotten easier to ignore, actually, ‘cause y’know, it’s not what I really want.” He distractedly pulls as a loose string of his sleep shirt. “Maybe I’ll go back and kick the face of some dumb politician, buuut right now, I just wanna relax.”
“Yeah, you deserve it, after all the shit you went through,” Phil says with a quiet smile.
Techno’s hand cards through the fur atop his head, but Phil can see the way his appendages freeze momentarily over the gold-lined scar striking down his skull like lightning. “Yeah, looking back… wow that was a lot.” Though Techno manages to belt out a chuckle, it sounds forced, almost like an afterthought.
Phil, too, lets out a nervous laugh. “Dude, shit was fucked in there.” He weighs his empty cup from one hand to the next. The feeling of the feathers on his back is more prominent. “Got my fucked up wing, my fucked up leg. I can’t fight like the old days, but you’re way better off than me there, so at least you have that,” he adds with a snort, nose scrunched. “I dunno if I’ll be able to join you if you ever leave. Fuck, man, I’d just drag you down—”
“Nooooooo,” Techno cuts him off, placing his hand over the top of Phil’s head, which gets a snort-filled snicker out of Philza, “Stop. You’re doing that thing, Phil. Just stop talking—”
With a smirk, Phil smacks Techno’s hand off of his head. “Fuck’s sake, Techno, you know I’m right—”
“Actually, it’s me who’s always right. But you’re getting old, so I can see where the confusion lies—”
“You really think I can stick by you in battle nowadays without something going to shit? Really?" Phil asks, voice ripe with doubt.
Technoblade’s face lights up as an idea strikes him like lightning. “We haven’t sparred in a while. We got too busy settling in. I’d hate for us to be rusty, so…” And he’s already standing up, drawing back his shoulders to stretch the muscles with a slight crack. “And maybe then I can convince ya that you’re still good enough to join me on the battlefield.”
“Right now?” Phil asks with a surprised scoff, but his smile widens. He begins kicking the blanket from off of his lap, discarding it to the floor. “In the middle of the night?”
“Eh, sure, why not?” Techno response, and well, Philza has nothing to retaliate against that.
In the end, Technoblade and Philza stand in front of their yards, swords at the ready. Light bleeds out from the lanterns hanging over the fence doors, casting yellow over the dim area. Though the rest of the world lays quiet, the silence is about to be devastated by the sounds of battle and laughter.
When they lunge and weapons clash, there are genuine smiles on both of their faces.
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Wanted Man ~ Chapter Nineteen
Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.
McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…
Pairings: Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin
Characters:McKenna, Loki, Thor, Odin
Warnings: None
Rating: T
Word Count: 3k
Tag List: @fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell @piggledy-higgledy @evenstaredits
If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!
Previous chapters can be found here!
McKenna dreaded the walk back up the shadowy path. This time, it felt even more foreboding than it had earlier, and halfway up, she tugged on Loki's hand. “I don’t want to go back. You know other ways in and out of this realm, don’t you? Isn’t that what you told me? Please, let’s just go. Just leave here and go back to New Jersey.”
She knew she rambled, her words just fell over one another, but she couldn’t help it. Fear rose with swift wings to set her heart hammering against her ribs. “Please… can’t we just do that?”
He turned to her, catching her face in his hands. “I don’t want to run any longer. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.” He traced his thumbs along her cheekbones, his eyes growing soft. “Everything will be all right.”
“You can’t promise that. You said yourself Odin could very well sentence you to die.” She hated how weak she sounded, but the truth was she was terrified that this very thing would happen. That in the span of a day, this could all end.
Her eyes stung and she dropped her head forward so he wouldn’t see her crying. But he wasn’t about to let that happen, as he caught her chin and tilted her face back to his. “McKenna, if that happens—”
“Don’t say it,” she gritted, her voice cracking as she jerked free and shook her head. “Don’t tell me to be brave and get on with my life and all that. Don’t tell me again not to mourn or grieve or whatever, because that’s not going to happen.” A hot tear slid over the edge of her eyelid and streaked down her cheek. “Because I’m going to mourn and fall apart and the worst thing is, no one will ever believe me. And those who do believe me, will never believe you to be the man I see now. They will always see you as the power-hungry megalomaniac who wanted to rule the Earth.
“And now, I can’t even go back to a normal life because it isn’t possible. Even if I did manage to want to even think about dating again, do you know how ordinary men will compare to you?” Her hand clenched into a fist and she punched him as hard as she could in the chest, with enough force that he actually stepped back.
“Do you think any other man could ever hope to make me feel what you do? Do you?” She hit him again. “Because you’re wrong. No before you ever made me feel like this—” another punch—“and no one after ever will either. And do you—” yet another punch—“know why? Because you are. A. Fucking. God!”
She threw one last punch, but this one he caught and lowered her hand as he murmured, “Do you feel better now?”
“No. And now my hand hurts. You’re not a soft god, either, you know.”
“I try hard not to be.” He rubbed her hand with both of his. “And while I have to admit, the thought of ruining any other men for you does play to my vanity, I’m not fool—or vain enough—enough to agree with you.
“But, I would rather have only a few more hours with you, than a lifetime of being without you and if, by some chance, that happens, trust me, I’d rather the axe.” He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “And I do not want you grieving for me, McKenna. If I should get the axe—”
“Please don’t say that.” Her bottom lip quivered, so she caught it between her teeth and shook her head. Then, she leaned into him, pressing her cheek into his chest, and giving into the sobs that refused to be silenced.
He folded his arms about her, one hand pressed against her head, smoothing over her hair as she cried. When she finally went quiet, he continued holding her and stroking her hair as he whispered, “Everything will be all right, love. You will see.”
She sniffled, lifting her head to look at him. “You don’t know that. Not for certain.”
His thumbs moved over her cheeks. “No one knows anything for certain. Now, no more tears. No more rages. And please, no more punches. You don’t exactly hit like a girl, you know.” As she let out a weak laugh, he bent and kissed her forehead. “Now, let’s go back to my chambers, splash about in the tub, perhaps roll about in the sheets, and then we will deal with the rest.”
“How much longer do you think we have?”
He looked up at the sky. Twilight encroached, the sky streaked purple and gold. “Not long, I think. Perhaps an hour. Maybe a bit more.”
She tightened her arms about his waist and rested her head on his chest again. “I’m scared and I don’t like being scared.”
He kissed the top of her head and held up one hand. “Here.”
She looked up and burst out laughing. “A hedgehog?”
“I saw one, the last time I was in Midgard. I thought it a curious creature.” He smiled down at her. “Take it. They don’t bite.”
“I would love to, but Cinder would probably kill it.” She reached out to gently stroke in the direction of the hedgehog’s spines. “But it is cute.”
“Very well.” He waved his free hand over it and said, “Perhaps you will accept this instead.”
Her jaw went slack as her eyes feel upon the most beautiful diamond ring she’d ever seen. It was a clean, square cut diamond so white it looked perfectly clear, set in white gold—or possibly even platinum— encircled by a ring of smaller, yet equally clear diamonds. “Oh… oh, Loki… I couldn’t possibly…”
He lifted the ring and with the hand that had held it, took her left hand. The ring slid easily onto her ring finger, as if made for her exclusively. “It is said that there is a vein that runs in Midgardians, from this finger directly to the heart,” he replied softly. He lifted his eyes to hers.
“On Earth, a man gives a ring like this when he asks a woman to marry him,” she whispered back, her heart beating so loudly, she almost couldn’t hear herself. She swallowed hard as Loki's smile took on a mischievous edge.
“Do you like it?”
The ring fit her perfectly, the sparkle thrown off by the facets almost blinding her as she involuntarily moved her fingers. “It’s beautiful.” She could barely make the words move past the enormous lump that rose in her throat.
“Marry me, Midgardian. And this will be only the beginning of what I wish to give you.”
Tears clouded her eyes, but they were bittersweet tears. That he asked her to marry him would probably have no bearing on Odin’s decision, but still, she smiled up at him and nodded, unable to speak.
His smile lost its devilishness and his eyes grew greener, although she was fairly certain they shimmered the same way hers were. “This will happen, love. I promise you.”
Pressing her lips together, she nodded again and when she found her voice, she said, “I’m going to hold you to that, Jötunn.”
He drew her into his arms. “You do realize, you are the only one I would allow get away with calling me that, don’t you?”
“Just as you’re the only one I’d allow to call me Midgardian.” She slid her arms about his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips.
When they parted, she whispered, “I wish we had one more night.”
“There will be more.” He stepped away to take her hand again. He brought it to his lips, kissed it, and then added, “Odin may allow you to stay, you know. There is no decision set in stone as yet.”
As they reached the palace, she sighed. “I know, but still… I just have this horrible feeling…”
He squeezed her hand, but his reply died on his lips as they came into his chambers to find Thor waiting for them, his expression grim. McKenna felt the pit of her stomach fall away as he said, “Odin wishes to see you.”
Her throat squeezed tight. “Should I wait here?”
“No. He wishes to see you as well.”
“Me?”
“That is what he said.”
“What does Odin wish to see her for?” Loki asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “She has nothing to do with—”
“He didn’t explain to me, Loki. He only said he wishes to see you both in the Throne Room.”
She clasped Loki's hand with both of hers, feeling sick as Loki nodded and they fell into step behind Thor. Her stomach churned and her entire body trembled, strongly enough that Loki squeezed her hand and murmured, “At least we’ll know.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she whispered back, feeling very much as if she was going to faint. She heard a distant buzzing in her ears and tried to swallow hard against it. “I don’t feel so good,” she murmured.
“Lean on me, love. I’ll hold you up.”
At the end of the golden corridor, Thor rounded the corner and McKenna thought she was going to throw up as her gaze was drawn immediately to the high dais of gold atop a golden flight of stairs. The man seated in on the equally gold throne terrified her more than anyone else ever, Loki included. He had a shock of flowing white hair, and thick white beard, and a golden plate served as an eye patch over his right eye. In his right fist he held a tall scepter of gold.
Her blood roared through her ears as Loki squeezed her hand again and stood tall before his father. He held her back slightly, as if to stand between her and Odin, and his thumb gently caressed hers as he said, “Allfather.”
“Loki has returned to Asgard once more,” Odin began, his voice deep and mellow, and he didn’t look at McKenna. “It is a wonder we are all still alive to tell the tale.”
“I returned. And no one has suffered for it. Thor told you of my reasons for returning, did he not?”
“To save the life of a woman.” Odin’s voice remained strangely void of emotion. “A Midgardian woman, no less. The very same people you thought were so beneath you, that they would believe you to be a god. And their king.”
Loki didn’t flinch, his shoulders back and proud as he said, “I was mistaken about that. I was not, however, mistaken in my desire to see this woman returned safely from Jötunheim.”
McKenna cleared her throat with the intention of introducing herself and speaking on Loki's behalf, but before she could, Odin intoned, “McKenna Carlin. Of Midgard. Did you know you aided a fugitive? One who was thought to be dead? One who should be dead?”
She nodded. “I did. And you are wrong about him. He—”
“Silence!” Odin thundered. “I care not what your opinions are. Loki, I hope she was worth the price of revealing your deception, because Frigga is not here to save your neck this time.”
“Father, you were willing to keep him in the dungeons before—” Thor began.
“I don’t need you to defend me,” Loki broke in, shaking his head. “I know what I’ve done and yes, if this means the axe for me, know this, Allfather. I would do it again, if I had to. This woman means that much to me. I would do things no differently.”
Odin snickered, but Loki held up a hand. “I know you think me without a heart, without anything but the desire for power, but you are wrong. I regret most of my actions not because I didn’t believe in them, but because they will prevent me from pledging my life to her.”
“Pledging your life? Did I hear you correct? Loki has decided he cares about something more than his own selfish desires?”
It hurt to hear Odin rip into Loki with such sharp teeth, but as she tensed to jump in again, Loki squeezed her hand once more. “For the most part, yes,” he replied, glancing over at her. “But wanting her is part of my selfish desire, I suppose. I love her. I want her. I’ve asked her to be my wife.”
“Is this true?” Odin demanded, turning to her.
She nodded slowly. “It is. Please, I know you think he is beyond salvation, but he not only saved Thor's life, but Jane Foster’s as well. And in doing so, he saved the world from the Dark Elves. And, he saved my neck not once, but twice. He’s—”
Odin held up a hand to silence her. “I’ve heard enough.”
She clasped Loki's hand between hers again, her heart thudding against her ribs. She glanced up at him but he remained stoic, his gaze firmly on his father. The roar through her ears made her feel sick all over again and she thought she just might faint when Odin said, “I cannot forget all that you have done, Loki. Nor can I forgive it. Should I allow the Midgardian to remain here, allow you to wed here in Asgard, would be give the impression that I do both.”
Tears poked the backs of her eyes. The lump in her throat was impossible to swallow. Her entire body shook as Odin continued, “Therefore, she shall return to Midgard while you shall be remanded back to the dungeons for eternity.”
“No!” McKenna shouted as two Asgardian guards stepped up and one not-so gently pulled her away from Loki while the other one clapped thick irons about Loki's wrists. He knelt to clap shackles about Loki's ankles. “No, please…”
Thor caught her as Loki growled at the guards, “Take care with her.”
“Father, why not exile him to Midgard as well?” Thor asked.
McKenna had to look away as an iron collar was fitted about Loki's neck. Thick chains connected all the shackles and it killed her to see him this way. Still, his shoulders remained square, thrown back with pride, even as Odin shook his head. “No. This is my decision.”
She pulled away from Thor and threw herself at Loki, who rattled and clunked as he stepped back and stumbled from the force with which she crashed into him. But he remained on his feet and when she pulled him down, he met her lips with a fierce kiss.
“When do you plan to return her?” Thor asked.
“Sunset. Take him away.”
“No, no, no,” McKenna said, her lips still against Loki's. She kissed him with every bit of passion, every bit of lust, and every bit of love she could force into a kiss and when he was roughly dragged away from her, her voice cracked as she said, “I love you.”
He didn’t fight the men dragging him away from her, not that it would have done any good. But he did smile at her. “And I love you.”
Then he winked.
She stood there, rooted to her spot, and watched as they dragged him from the Throne Room. Tears overflowed her eyes, spilled down her cheeks, and she didn’t even try to stop them. Her heart felt like it was shattering the way a window did, starting with a small, spiderweb crack that then shot out in all directions to reduce the glass to nothing but fissures and pieces.
Her knees quaked but she managed to stay upright. She turned back to find Odin staring down at her. “You are wrong about him.”
“I believe I know Loki far better than you, Midgardian,” he replied, slowly rising from his throne. “And you are a fool to think he cares for you beyond what purpose you might serve him.”
“No. You are a fool for choosing to believe only the worst.” She knew she took a great risk, arguing with Odin this way. But she didn’t care. She was numb now, far beyond caring what Odin might do to her. Loki might not be executed, but she would never see him again, and because of that, she had nothing to lose. “He has shown he has a caring side, a gentle side. And as I said, he did save Thor's life.”
“I’ve heard enough. Sif, take her to Heimdall.”
A tall, slim woman with jet-black hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail, dressed in feminine armor, came into the room. “Yes, Allfather.”
With one last look in the direction Loki had been taken, McKenna slowly plodded behind Sif, away from the Throne Room, away from Thor's impassioned, “She speaks true. I told you how Loki sacrificed himself for me.”
“Is that so?” Odin replied. “For that is not how I see it, considering how he didn’t sacrifice himself at all.”
She blocked out the rest of Odin's words, which wasn’t at all difficult, and as they approached Heimdall, Sif said, “I’m sorry this had to happen this way.”
“Are you?” McKenna rounded on her. “Because I think otherwise.”
“I was raised with Loki, I remember him as a boy, mischievous and playful. At one point, there were many ladies here who dreamed of being wooed by him. But then the thought of power corrupted him. I like to think that mischievous, flirtatious devil of a man has come back and if so, I thank you for bringing him back.”
“For all the good it did.” She glanced down at the ring on her finger, glittering from all the light. “I wish we’d never come here.”
“The Allfather would have found him eventually. Heimdall sees all and even Loki cannot hide himself forever.”
Heimdall slid his sword into the slot and McKenna swallowed hard as Sif added, “Good luck, Midgardian.”
McKenna didn’t reply, and then the air rushed from her body as if she’d been hooked about the waist and yanked forward. Lights, colors, sound all blurred as it screamed past her and when she hit the ground, she collapsed into a heap on white sand.
#Loki#Loki Fanfic#Loki x ofc#Tom Hiddleston#Thor#Romance#Is it hot in here?#Jersey girl#Marvel#Marvel fanfic
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Fairy Names Pt. 2
Fly with you! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Anyway, I’m here for a second part of one of my most popular posts.
The first post listed fairy names that were used in the DS game “Tinker Bell and the Great Fairy Rescue” in the create-a-fairy section of the game. While the names provided were feminine, I have pulled all of the masculine fairy names from the original Pixie Hollow game. Some names are repeats from the original post, but I kept them in as I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy. Here’s the original post.
~🧚🏻♀️🔥 Foxglove
First
Aaron
Ace
Acorn
Agate
Ajay
Alabaster
Alder
Alec
Aleron
Alex
Anchor
Andrew
Archer
Axel
Badger
Bailey
Baker
Bale
Banjo
Barclay
Basil
Benjy
Bert
Bevel
Birch
Bo
Boomer
Boone
Brock
Bruce
Brynn
Buddy
Burr
Burton
Buster
Calder
Casper
Cecil
Cedar
Chance
Chase
Chip
Clay
Cliff
Coal
Cog
Comet
Cosmo
Cote
Covey
Crag
Crane
Cyan
Dale
Dane
Darius
Darrin
Dawson
Decker
Deon
Devlin
Dewey
Donner
Drake
Dug
Dunn
Dustin
Dusty
Echo
Eddy
Edward
Elk
Emery
Erik
Ernie
Errol
Fennel
Fincher
Finn
Fir
Flint
Ford
Francis
Garnet
Glen
Gourd
Gourdie
Grove
Grub
Gull
Hale
Hare
Harris
Hawk
Henry
Heron
Hob
Jacob
James
Jasper
Jay
Kernal
Koto
Lance
Lark
Leaf
Lore
Lute
Lyric
Martin
Maze
Mica
Michal
Nadir
Nester
Oak
Ollie
Onyx
Otter
Peat
Pier
Pine
Quake
Quarry
Quinn
Rain
Ranger
Reed
Richard
River
Robin
Rook
Rusty
Rye
Sage
Sam
Scout
Sean
Seth
Shale
Shoal
Skimmer
Skyler
Spike
Spruce
Sterling
Stone
Tad
Teak
Thatcher
Thistle
Timber
Tiny
Toadstool
Tobey
Todd
Topher
Torn
Torrey
Vail
Valiant
Vern
Vic
Wedge
Wes
Wren
Wynn
Zak
Middle
Air
Almond
Apple
Aspen
Autumn
Badger
Bark
Beacon
Bear
Bitter
Brave
Bright
Brisk
Broom
Bumble
Candle
Cedar
Chilly
Citrus
Cloud
Cloudy
Clover
Cocoa
Copper
Cricket
Crow
Cub
Dapple
Dash
Day
Drift
Eagle
Elm
Evening
Falcon
Far
Fern
Fig
Fire
Fleet
Flicker
Foggy
Fox
Frost
Frozen
Funny
Garlic
Green
Hail
Hasty
Hawk
Hickory
Holly
Hurry
Ice
Ivy
Jelly
Jumpy
Lemon
Light
Lightning
Lime
Little
Lock
Lotus
Magic
Mango
Maple
Merry
Misty
Moon
Morning
Moss
Mossy
Mountain
Muddy
Never
Nickel
Night
Nimble
Oak
Orange
Otter
Parsley
Pear
Pebble
Pepper
Pine
Plum
Pollen
Pumpkin
Purple
Quick
Rain
Rainy
Rock
Rumble
Sage
Sandy
Sea
Shy
Silk
Slight
Snow
Sour
Speedy
Spider
Spring
Squall
Star
Storm
Stout
Strong
Sugar
Summer
Sun
Swift
Tangle
Thunder
Tiny
Toad
Tumble
Twisty
Water
Whiffle
Wild
Wind
Winter
Wrinkle
Last
Beam
Bee
Bell
Berry
Breath
Breeze
Bug
Button
Buzz
Chill
Chime
Cliff
Cloud
Clove
Crash
Curl
Dale
Dance
Dash
Dew
Din
Drop
Dust
Ear
Elbow
Eye
Feather
Field
Fig
Flame
Flap
Flash
Fleck
Flight
Flip
Flipper
Fly
Fog
Foot
Forest
Freeze
Fruit
Garden
Gem
Glade
Glimmer
Glow
Gourd
Grace
Griddlee
Gust
Heart
Hill
Hop
Horn
Hush
Jewel
Knee
Lake
Light
Lock
Loop
Lull
Meadow
Mello
Mint
Mist
Moon
Muddle
Muse
Newt
Noise
Nose
Peal
Pebble
Petal
Pin
Plume
Pond
Pool
Ray
Ripple
River
Roar
Root
Row
Ruckus
Rumble
Sand
Shadow
Sky
Smash
Song
Spark
Sparkle
Sparrow
Speck
Spirit
Splash
Spring
Sprite
Sprout
Stem
Stone
Storm
Stream
Stripe
Swamp
Swirls
Thistle
Thorn
Toad
Tree
Twill
Twist
Vale
Valley
Vine
Weather
Web
Whirl
Whisk
Whisper
Willow
Wind
Wing
Wings
Wink
Wish
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Yuu’s Team
here’s yuu’s main team. i’m not sure what other pokemon she’ll have aside from alcremie. i’ll add them as i go xD
Empoleon
Moves: Hydro Pump, Ice Beam, Metal Claw, Aqua Jet
Yuu’s starter Pokemon, Empoleon, has been with Yuu since her school days and since he was a little Piplup. If she was feeling down because of schoolwork, he was there to cheer her on. If she was going out for errands, he was there to help her. Ever the reliable and responsible one, the rest of the team look up to him as their leader. Of course, Yuu and the others are always there for him just as he is for them. Usually the voice of reason and peacemaker.
Staraptor
Moves: Close Combat, Brave Bird, Aerial Ace, Double Team
Yuu met Staraptor as a Starly while she was on a family trip to Lake Valor. He’s a tough guy kind of bird with a soft heart. The sort of big brother who would fight with his own two fists (or in this case, his wings and talons) for you to the ends of the earth. The one who intimidates others just from how he looks. Best friends with Empoleon.
Kirlia
Moves: Psychic, Calm Mind, Draining Kiss, Disarming Voice
Yuu met Kirlia as a Ralts on Route 208. Her school was holding a practical class on travel safety and essentials there. While Yuu was setting up her tent, she found a Ralts looking at the class curiously from behind a tree. The curious Ralts wanted to help Yuu, and when she informed the teacher, Ralts was allowed to help her and to roam around the campsite. Once the practical class was over, Ralts didn’t want to leave Yuu’s side, so she caught her. The big sister of the group.
Lampent
Moves: Inferno, Shadow Ball, Confuse Ray, Fire Spin
Yuu met Lampent as a Litwick when she and her family went to Unova. They traveled to pay respects to a relative’s Pokemon at the Celestial Tower. While there, they found a Litwick tending to the Pokemon’s grave. He stayed by their side the entire time they were in Unova, and then decided to come with Yuu when they were going to leave. Will spit embers at disrespectful people.
Sylveon
Moves: Fairy Wind, Misty Terrain, Moonblast, Swift
Yuu met Sylveon as an Eevee at her relative’s ranch. She was a wild Eevee that came around the ranch often because of the open space. She helped out here and there and the ranchers basically deemed her one of their own even if they never caught her. Yuu was helping around the ranch the same day that Eevee came by and the two hit it off. Loves to help out.
Alolan Vulpix
Moves: Powder Snow, Icy Wind, Aurora Beam, Payback
Yuu met Vulpix on a trip to Alola. Her brother, Subaru, managed to win a trip for three to Alola from a raffle. Their parents insisted that their children all take the trip together, and so the siblings flew to Alola for a week. While hiking through Mount Lanakila, they came across a family of Ninetales and Vulpix, and one of the Vulpix took a shine to Yuu. The little sister of the group and can be quite feisty.
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The Dryad - Azalea Mirin
(Spotify Playlist)
Track List:
01. Courage - P!nk
I bury my heart here in this dirt / I hope it's a seed, I hope it works / I need to grow, here I could be / Closer to light, closer to me / Don't have to do this perfectly
02. Me - Paula Cole
But you can't kill my spirit / It's soaring and it's strong / Like a mountain / I go on and on / But when my wings are folded / The brightly colored moth / Blends into the dirt into the ground
03. Yours If You Want It - Rascal Flatts
And this wildflower from the neighbor's yard / A real slow dance in the moonlight dark / This hand in my pocket / Oh baby, just call it / 'Cause it's yours if you want it
04. Patricia - Florence + The Machine
I drink too much coffee and I think of you often / In a city where reality has long been forgotten / Are you afraid? 'Cause I'm terrified / But you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love
05. Heartbeat - SAILR
You set my soul on fire / You pull my heartbeat towards the sun / You give me new eyes open / You call my heartbeat into love
06. Real Life Fairytale - Plumb
You are my light / You are my star / You are my sunshine and my dark / You are the everything I dreamed about
07. Movement - Hozier
When you move / I can recall somethin' that's gone from me / When you move / Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free
08. Fearless - Taylor Swift
Well you stood there with me in the doorway / My hands shake / I'm not usually this way but / You pull me in and I'm a little more brave / It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something, it's fearless
09. We'll Be Okay - Kina Grannis and Imaginary Future
It's like we're always moving / Why is it so hard to find some / Time to catch our breath? / Someday, we will slow down / Long enough to watch the sun rise / From our own bed
10. Someone To You - BANNERS
And if you feel like night is falling / I wanna be the one you're calling / 'Cause I believe that you could lead the way / I just wanna be somebody to someone
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Weird Managers’ Club Group Chat
Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @rubybecker-rb2
Cross your fingers girlies
TheNormalOne: GUYS
TheNormalOne: I need your help
TheNormalOne: Have any of you faced Real Madrid as managers before
CatalanMagician: Sorry, no free help Jurgen
TheNormalOne: Thomas HEEEEELP
TT: you sound desperate
TheNormalOne: Because I AM
TheNormalOne: I made all the plans but I’m still terrified of their attack
Jessethe🐐: You watched the Real final, huh?
TheNormalOne: 😬.
Jessethe🐐: 😑 I told you not to do that
TheNormalOne: I can’t help it, I’m really freaking out here
SuperFrankieLampard: How much Ed Sheeran have you been listening to?
TheNormalOne: 0%, why?
SuperFrankieLampard: Because 🎶 My bad habits lead to late nights endin' alone🎶
CatalanMagician: 🎶Conversations with a stranger I barely know🎶
Jessethe🐐: 🎶Swearin' this will be the last, but it probably won't🎶
TheSpecialOne: 🎶I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do🎶
TheNormalOne: Sums me up right now
TT: Come here 🤗
TheNormalOne: Thanks 🤗
TheNormalOne: @Jesse @Frank @Thomas When are you guys going back into managing?
Jessethe🐐: There’s the Southampton job
TheNormalOne: JESUS CHRIST NO YOU NEED THERAPY!!!
Jessethe🐐: Just kidding, noone wants to go there
TheSpecialOne: Come rot with me in Italy
TT: No way Jose
TheNormalOne: 🤣. 🤣. 🤣.
CatalanMagician: Brilliant
TheSpecialOne: Jurgen, I used to coach them but I can give you some tips
TheNormalOne: THANK YOU WHAT ARE THEY
TheSpecialOne: You are a bird, ready to soar/ Beware the dangers that come before/ Your wings may be clipped, especially the right/ Your head will be crucial to winning the night
CatalanMagician: ???
TT: I think it’s a riddle
TheNormalOne: Great! I love riddles
TheSpecialOne: Your head has three parts, a beak and two eyes/ All must be swift, prepared and concise/ If your beak can make the right decisions/ Then all of your chances may come to fruition
TheSpecialOne: The heart in the middle, so young and brave/ He’ll be the key to save your day/ He must be a wall, yet a guiding light/ He will be crucial to winning the night
TheSpecialOne: Your keeper in black, perhaps in lilac/ He’ll be bombarded with Los Blancos’ attack/ All the defense must do their part
TheSpecialOne: You must have passion and hunger and pride/ Feel the love that you felt inside
TheNormalOne: I got all of that except for the last part
TT: Of course, typical Jurgen
CatalanMagician: Would go through hell and back for his boys but doesn’t give a damn about himself
TheNormalOne: 😶. No need to attack me like that
TheSpecialOne: It’s the truth
Jessethe🐐: And all your Enneagram codes point towards you being very protective and supportive of others, but sometimes neglecting yourself
TheNormalOne: Since when do you do those online tests?
Jessethe🐐: I need something to kill time
TheSpecialOne: If you need something to kill time, plan how not to get relegated
TheNormalOne: Well, as the French say, the day of glory has come 😬. Wish me luck 🤞.
Jessethe🐐: Forza LFC ❤️!
TT: Forza ❤️
SuperFrankieLampard: Forza❤️
CatalanMagician: Forza, but it’s only because I hate Real
TheNormalOne: Same here
#jurgen klopp#thomas tuchel#frank lampard#jesse marsch#pep guardiola#josep guardiola#jose mourinho#real madrid#liverpool#liverpool fc#liverpool men#lfc#lfc players#everton#leeds united#leeds#leedslife#roma fc#as roma#man city#manchester city#chelsea#chelsea fc#football blurb#football imagine#football fanfic#football#football incorrect quotes#soccer fanfiction by lynn#soccer skits
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werewolf steve, werebat eddie (ch3)
🐺🛌🦇🥺
It’s the quiet conviction that he’s in the wrong bed that wakes Eddie the next morning. The mattress too soft, the pillow too thick, and the boy next to him is an unwavering, giant red flag too. He sighs, hand under his cheek and contemplates the sleep-creased face of Steve Harrington next to little old Eddie Munson.
And he thought turning into a bat was going to be the only weird part of this weekend.
Steve snuffles, twitching his nose before falling back into a steady breathing rhythm again. And Eddie would like to deny how cute it is, would like to refuse to see how handsome Steve is, and would very much like to pinch the thin river of greed winding through him that would like the chance to have a fun, kind guy too. Someone who stirs Eddie, makes him laugh. But that’s not his fate in this lifetime.
He turns onto his back, staring directly above at the bubble pattern of the ceiling and determinedly focusing on more important matters.
Like the fact that he’s a bat now.
Apparently.
Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he wonders what the hell to do with that knowledge. It’s not going to get him anywhere; there’s no big corporation that wants to hire bat services. Last he heard, the ability to squeak wasn’t going to land him a record deal. Eddie huffs out a laugh, maybe he can get into acting. Take this gig out on the road.
No, just like having to watch a girl be brutally murdered in front of him and only barely scraping past that hack job Hawkins PD called an investigation, Eddie is going to have to take his lumps and keep moving.
He peers at the awful plaid wallpaper of the bedroom. Unsurprised by the banality of it, the hint of wasted money on lack of taste, but he is surprised by the pleasant abundance of greenery across the whole space. Potted plants crowd every available surface, some with trailing vines flowing over containers hanging from the ceiling. Even with the window closed, the room smells fresh, a clean sweetness to the air that matches the shiningly healthy and obviously well-cared for leaves, flowers and, he peers closer, herbs.
He wonders whether Steve dug these out of the woods with his big furry paws or if he’d bought them at the local nursery. Looking at the array of sizes and colourful patterns on the clay pots he figures that Steve shelled out a decent amount of money for his botanical set-up.
It twinges something in Eddie. Steve, just as taken in by the Upside Down, doomed to forever be a half-man and half-beast too, but sleeping peacefully within an oasis of his creation, sheltered by the tall walls of the Harrington home, with friends who love him, who don’t care about the monster within.
It feels unfair.
Because what is Eddie now? A monster? Maybe. A creature? Definitely. This new change in his life won’t make it any better, it won’t give him any advantages. It’s just one more thing he’s going to have to hide. To squirrel away like a tender thing lest the soft belly of it be exposed to the type of people who would hurt him.
Hurt, he knows, comes in many different forms. From a father believing your best value is in using small hands to boost a car, in the indifference of a mother leaving you on your uncle’s doorstep, on your best friend pushing you to the floor when you try to kiss him.
He looks over at the effortlessly handsome features of Steve, at his expensive and beautiful room, and thinks that whatever risk Steve carries, it is nothing like the one Eddie would be exposed to if his new secret got out.
He spots a familiar animal on the cover of a book on the bedside table. Curiously, he picks it up, flicking his eyes over the types of bats in the world, their characteristics, advice on care, and other little random facts.
Steve stirs, smacking his lips his eyelashes flutter before his gaze opens to land on Eddie bent over the book. He’s under the blanket that Eddie lays over; his bat version must have crawled out of the hoodie at some point but remained on top of the bed. Last night had been a blur and he doesn’t remember much except panic followed by Steve’s warm hands.
“Hey,” Steve smiles sleepily, “You came back to us.”
Eddie grunts, “Yeah, not sure exactly how that happened, but small blessings and all that.” He scans the feeding behaviour header, noting that blood is indeed amongst fruit, insects, and nectar as their preferred diet. Pausing, he tastes his mouth like it’ll suddenly reveal an obvious craving for bloody flesh. Meeting only morning breath, he grimaces and continues reading.
Finally realising that Steve has been silent for an unusually long pause, he glances over only to be startled by the intent look in his eye as he regards Eddie. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly and Eddie bristles at the concern, resentment stirring that Steve gets to be the kind one. The guy who cares despite being similarly afflicted. Why can’t he be just as resentful and mean as Eddie?
“Well, it’s not a giant dog, but I suppose you should welcome me to the club.”
Steve purses his lips thoughtfully, “I’ll ignore the canine dig for now since I know you’re going through something. But I get it, you know? If you can talk to anyone about being suddenly faced with the oddity of waking up in a body that no longer feels like your own, it’s me.”
Eddie rolls his eyes down at the book, “Our life experiences are vastly different, Steve. I don’t think you could get where I’m coming from if you tried.”
“Maybe not all of it,” Steve admits carefully, sitting up so he and Eddie are on the same level, “But I can try. And it’s got to be better than holding it in. You’re a pretty verbal guy, Eddie. I figure’d you’d want to talk about this.”
“What’s that mean?” Eddie glares at him and Steve raises his palms, saying, “Just that you seem to like talking your thoughts out, and that I’m here, willing to listen if you want to get anything off your chest.”
“Yeah, well, you can keep that hairy chest to yourself,” Eddie mutters darkly, looking at a bat’s mouth held open, exposing sharp fangs from front to back like a deadly, serrated knife. He presses his tongue against his molars thoughtfully; he doesn’t remember there being a lot of sharp tools in his mouth.
“Right,” Steve huffs out a frustrated breath, “You’re obviously in a mood. But fair, you’re allowed to take a beat until you get your feet under you.”
“I’m allowed,” Eddie mocks under his breath.
Steve cocks his head, “Yeah, you’re allowed. Just like I was allowed to take a beat too, once I figured out that turning into a wolf wasn’t a hallucination or a mental breakdown.” Eddie ignores him and Steve says with frustration, “What’s your problem?”
As he does, Eddie’s eyes catch on a fun fact section, and he can’t help the grim laughter that escapes. Of course. Of fucking course. He hears the mounting irritation in Steve’s voice as he calls his name again and latches on to it, happy to smack back. “Did you know, Steve,” Eddie starts, meanness fuelling his smirk, only he has a feeling that the petty feeling is directed inwards. “That bats have the highest rate of homosexuality out of any mammal?”
Steve watches him warily, “Are you saying that the shift turned you gay? ‘Cause I’m not sure it works like that,” his lips tug up cautiously, “It didn’t for me, anyway.”
Eddie sees the invitation to share the joke in Steve’s expression and it fuels the bitterness, “Yeah, well, you being a straight dog isn’t going to surprise anyone.”
Invitation dropping accompanied by eyes narrowing, Steve says, “That’s fucking condescending.” Eddie sees the insult across his face and rolls his eyes, conviction spreading that Steve has never had to think about how he presents to the world for one fucking minute before being afflicted with their shared infection.
“All I’m saying is that the wolf stuff may have made you a bit weird, but you were never gay-boy-in-Hawkins weird to begin with. Let alone the shitty kid from the shitty family with parents who don’t give a fuck.”
Steve’s eyes harden and he sucks his breath between his teeth consideringly, “I’m not sure whether I should share with you how wrong you are or simply tell you to fuck off.”
Eddie stares back just as hard, “You can’t tell me that you were ever the weird guy, Mr Popular Jock. What? Did you get ostracised from the team when you wore the wrong lucky jock strap?”
Rolling his lips, Steve nods his head decisively, “Yeah, you know what? I am going to tell you to fuck off.” Any hint of warmth in his expression shutters away and Eddie blinks, not having realised how open Steve had been with him even while they bickered. Steve continues, voice flat and unfriendly, “You know what your problem is, Eddie?”
“What?” He tries to sneer but the feeling of being wrong-footed continues and it lands with less force than he wants.
“You think you’ve got everyone worked out,” Steve trails his eyes over Eddie's face leaving his skin feeling flushed and burning, “What was it you said in the Upside Down? The Munson Doctrine? I was barely enough for you to approve of even then, right?”
The ground beneath Eddie’s feet shudders slightly, shaking his gut into an uneasy feeling but Steve doesn’t notice his suddenly shaky equilibrium as he bitingly continues, “I suppose I only met the bare minimum when you said that I was a good guy: I wasn’t a massive asshole that would allow you to take the rap for Chrissy’s murder or, I don’t know,” he laughs with very little humour, “Let Max be killed by Vecna? So that must mean I was scarcely half decent, right?”
Eddie frowns: he had meant what he said in the Upside Down — he’d seen Steve care for the party, chase after Max and make sure the kids were safe. He’d been a steady port in the storm who Eddie had looked to more than once while feeling unsafe and unsure, and Steve had always been looking back, with either a reassuring nod or a helpful explanation in the sort of plain speak necessary for a newbie to their wretched adventures.
Steve rolls out of bed and Eddie can’t even be mad that he might use his height to his advantage because he heads straight to the doorway, pausing with his hand steady on the frame. He shakes his head looking down, “I thought that you saw me. It didn’t have to be every part, but I thought that you at least saw that I’m trying to be a good person.”
He looks up and Eddie is pierced clean through by the hurt in his eyes, the walls falling briefly to allow this one sad glimpse, “But ever since I showed you who I really am, what I am, I’ve realised that your approval comes with conditions.”
“That’s not true,” Eddie protests, furiously thinking, but his gut sinks below his feet when he can’t work out a counterargument to the accusation.
The walls over Steve’s eyes swiftly build up again, leaving only a cold man in its wake. “You assuming how easy I’ve always had it tells me that you never cared enough to look below the surface anyway.” He regards Eddie for one last long second as if taking him in for the final time, and Eddie is unsure how to respond when the ground is rumbling so strongly under his feet.
Steve leaves.
Quietly and without looking back at Eddie. No fanfare in the movement as if he’s decided that he’s not worth the fight. He realises now that he’d expected Steve to push back, to argue for Eddie to do better, but—having left him behind—Eddie doesn’t know what to do other than to quietly take his book and leave.
No one sees him out.
If you enjoyed any of this, I hope you'll consider leaving a message over on Ao3 because you would make my day. :)
#scattering a wee bit of conflict on the grass for the chickadees#steddie#swift wings and a brave heart#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#werewolf steve harrington#bat eddie munson
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MistFallen Characters
Quick list of my in game characters
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Aurelia Dragonwings
Charr | Female (she/her) | 1289 AE | Warrior Revenant | The Mistfallen, First Pact Commander & Leader of Dragon’s Watch
Strong, fierce and brave, but also more caring and considerate than one would expect from a charr of her stature and fame.
Once part of an elite Blood Legion warband, during the mayhem that followed Kralkatorrik’s wake she lost her family and ended up in the Mists. Years later, she re-emerged with new mysterious powers and something wrong with her (besides the voices in her head), but little to no knowledge of what had happened in that time due to her fogged memory.
Since then, she’s come into her own as a leader, as Aurene’s Champion and as the heart of her new family, finally moving on from the heavy grief that held her heart.
Dam of Adamas, mother figure of many, widow of Ardea (as of 1320 AE), mate of Ellara (as of 1333 AE).
Tags: #Aurelia Dragonwings, #Aurelia
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Adamas Crystalsoul
Charr | Male (he/him) | 1308 AE | Scrapper/Holosmith | Ex-Commander & second-in-command of Dragon’s Watch
Smart, brave and with a leader’s heart, he was set to be the Legionnaire of the Crystal warband, but Kralkatorrik’s wake left him a gladium before even he even left the fahrar. Escaping from the Legions’ grasp as he feared for his life, he was adopted by his new family in Lion’s Arch and nursed back to full health, and later followed his new brother in the Order of Whispers as a Creator.
After finding his mother again, he managed to let go of his traumatic past and move on to become who he was meant to be in the Pact first and then in Dragon’s Watch, with Maeveryl and later Deryn by his side.
Cub of Aurelia, adoptive brother of Tocchix, mate of Maeveryl (1325 AE) and Deryn (1331 AE), sire of Iridis and Diane.
Tag: #Adamas Crystalsoul
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Tocchix
Asura | Trans male (he/him) | 1307 AE | Daredevil | Lightbringer
Empathic and always ready to help others, he's loyal to a fault to his family and friends, and to the Pact.
One of the best scouts and agents of the Order of Whispers due to his dexterity and rigorous training received from his mentors, he used to be a ray of sunshine, but an unexpected betrayal cast a shadow of self-doubt and self-loathing on him, turning him into more of a reckless mess the more he tried to fix things, until the right someone helped him find a way out.
"Cousin" of Bunnie, adoptive brother of Adamas, ex-partner of Iotta, partner of Huki, adoptive father of [names pending].
Tag: #Tocchix
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Maeveryl
Sylvari | Agender (they/them) | 1317 AE | Berserker | Priory Scholar & member of Dragon's Watch
Bright, cheery and a total nerd, they try their best not to let the past cloud their future.
Scholar of the Durman's Priory, their memory is scary good at remembering where they read what. Doesn't like fighting unless necessary, but their combat prowess is not to be undervalued, especially after learning how to tame the berserker powers they accidentally obtained for a certain artifact.
Mate of Adamas (1325 AE) and platonic partner of Deryn, parent of Iridis and Diane, best friend of Hel.
Tag: #Maeveryl
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Hel Ravenlost
Norn | Female (she/her) | 1303 AE | Scourge | Ex-Priory Archon & member of Dragon's Watch
Cunning, daring and a gifted necromancer, the irony of dreading mortality -not her own but that of those she loves- isn't lost on her, and her studies in the Priory spurred by grief brought her down a dangerous path in Elona.
Saved by saving others and coming to terms with her fears, she managed to find her own path, which brought the Ravenlost back under Raven's wing, and then set her free.
Best friend of Maeveryl, partner of Nari (1335 AE).
Tag: #Hel Ravenlost
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Ellara Echodancer
Charr | Female (she/her) | 1295 AE | Mesmer | Lightbringer
Smart, quick-thinking and sassy, she's an excellent spy and a smooth duelist, always moving with feline elegance and swift elusiveness. Chooses to ignore the fact she's a bit of an emotional mess, prefers to take care of others and her job instead.
She left the Ash Legion and joined the Order of Whispers after losing her late mate, only to find herself as double agent for both. Her warband had followed her through thick and thin, and after losing them as well, she dedicated herself fully to the well-being of her loved ones through her job, which meant aiding Aurelia whenever possible.
Mate of Aurelia (fell tail over horns for her, was fine with being her close friend for 8 years, is more than fine as of 1333 AE).
Tag: #Ellara Echodancer
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Bunnie
Asura | Non-binary female (she/they) | 1308 AE | Mechanist | Pact > Crystal Bloom Quartermaster
Spunky and abrasive golemancer prodigy, she is known for her UNK series of golems, frequent victories in clandestine golem throwdowns and the title of Snaff Savant.
Joined the Pact to help her family and friends in their efforts, going from a simple Vigil's supply officer to Pact supplymaster, and later being one of the first to join the Order of the Crystal Bloom as a quartermaster.
"Cousin" of Tocchix, old friend of Zojja, "cuddlefriend" of Nuvly, partner of Farka.
Tag: #Bunnie | In game name: Golemancer Bunnie
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Ethanryel
Sylvari | Agender (they/them) | 1320 AE | Weaver | Grace of Aurene & second-in-command of the Crystal Bloom
Awakened the day of Glint’s death, their Wyld Hunt showed them a strong light surrounded by figures they were meant to follow, particularly who they'd get to know as Caithe and Aurelia. Going through adventurous hoops and painful loops, they proceeded to do just that in their own way, until they became known as the “Grace of Aurene” after being granted powers by her intervention to heal them.
A bit odd, often just quietly gravitating around people and always ready to listen and help, they know a lot of things, just rarely what you expect them to know.
Good friend of Caithe, Aurelia, Tocchix and Bunnie.
Tag: #Ethanryel
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Deryn
Charr | Female (she/her) | 1310 AE | Dragonhunter/Firebrand | Olmakhan & member of Dragon's Watch
Carefree, daring and fun-loving, she wanted to leave the Sandswept Isles since she was a cub, knowing her future was past those shores despite her strong sense of responsibility towards her people.
Skilled hunter and self-taught magic user, she's not afraid to fight and eagerly joined the Pact first and then Dragon's Watch after things with Adamas got serious.
Mate of Adamas (1331 AE) and platonic partner of Maeveryl, dam of Iridis and Diane.
Tag: #Deryn | In game name: Deryn Skylight
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Markus Blake
Human | Male (he/him) | 1310 AE | Ranger | Lionguard, currently Deputy
[WIP]He was the first person Aurelia met after re-emerging from the Mists, and he and his mother took care of her as she recovered.
Eagerly followed in his father's steps and became a Lionguard.
Partner of Fynn and Kai, father of [name pending].
Tag: #Markus Blake | In game name: Lionguard Markus
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Iotta
Asura | Female (she/her) | 1305 AE | Necromancer/Thief | Ex-Lightbringer & Lead Executive Supervisor of Rata Primus
Stone cold, snarky and intimidating, she was an extremely skilled Inquest operative who was trained to go undercover in the Order of Whispers to spy on their plans.
Determined to prove her worth no matter the cost to herself, she's successfully completed her mission and has become a high-ranking Inquest member in the security department under her mentor, but her only failure and regret kept haunting her until the day of the Awakened invasion of Rata Primus, then freed her from the nightmare of awakening.
Ex-partner of Tocchix.
Tag: #Iotta | In game name: Lightbringer Iotta
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Poffi
Asura | Female (she/her) | 1307 AE | Deadeye | Agent of the Order of Whispers
Despite being insecure and shy beyond saving, she was a proficient sniper with nearly perfect aim, as well as a pretty good cook.
She was a member of Nadine's team along with Iotta and Tocchix, and had a massive crush on him.
Died in Orr.
Tag: #Poffi | In game name: Agent Poffi
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Daunte Burstspell
Charr | Male (he/him) | 1296 AE | Tempest | Vigil Crusader
Veteran Crusader of the Vigil, he was a reliable soldier who thrived in the middle of the chain of command, serving also as a first-aid healer when necessary. Aggression-happy, standoff-ish and brazen, he's not highly sociable and tended to veil everything he said in sarcasm, preferring to show his feelings in concrete ways.
His years of service in the Blood Legion alongside the Commander's late warband and the loss of his warband and mate left him disillusioned in the Legions' chain of command, and he found a new purpose in the Vigil, trusting Almorra to guide them to victory.
Died in the Heart of Maguuma, taking out a small horde of Mordrem.
Old friend of Aurelia, widower of Verge, ??? of Hagan.
Tag: #Daunte Burstspell
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[pic tba]
Hagan Wesson
Norn | Male (he/him) | 1302 AE | Thief/Specter | Vigil Lieutenant
[WIP: can't find a way to sum him up neatly, so for now I'll just say "himbo"]
??? of Daunte, ex-partner of Gaell, partner of Flom and Gretna (same pod with Nuvly and Bunnie)
Tag: #Hagan | In game name: Hagan Wesson
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Flom
Asura | Male (he/him) | 1306 AE | "Revenant" | Pact technician
Awkward and with no spine, he used to be an Inquest technician working on portal technology, until an experiment gone awry resulted in the death of his krewe and him being "possessed" by an exiled Margonite, Zar'gol.
Kept as specimen in Rata Primus, he was rescued by the Commander and later managed to build a good friendship with the "demon", who then helped him regain control of his life in exchange of letting it experience Tyria once again.
Partner of Hagan and Nuvly (same pod with Bunnie)
Tag: #Flom #Zar'gol | In game name: Technician Flom
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Zehmik
Asura | Male (he/him) | 1??? AE | Spellbreaker | Mist Warrior
[WIP: guy has seen some stuff because he's been stuck in the Mist War for almost two decades in order to keep his family safe. Oh wait now he can finally come out, time for shenanigans! Oh, hi again, Aurelia!]
Tag: #Zehmik | In game name: Defender Zehmik
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Nari
Human | Female (she/her) | 1308 AE | Bladesworn | Kestrel
Wise beyond her years and impulsive at the same time, her mixed heritage comes from a fairly complicated and unlucky family history, and she felt out of place as she grew up in New Kaineng, living with her father after her mother's passing.
She joined the Kestel as soon as they let her, wanting to continue her mother's work. Good scout, likes to go undercover, she doesn't mind having the occasional chance to use the gunblade she crafted herself.
Partner of Hel (1335 AE).
Tag: #Nari | In game name: Kestrel Nari
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Edraas Noiza
Draconic asura hybrid | ? (it/its) | 13?? AE | "Willbender" | Ex-Inquest specimen & Priory ward/scholar
Absolutely regular asura who looks just a bit uncanny, totally not an escaped Inquest experiment that was recovered by a group of people in the Heart of Maguuma and is now a ward of the Durman's Priory under secrecy for respectful analysis, real body legitimately not hidden by layers of glamour for its safety.
When not coveting its hoard (reading through the Priory's library), it mostly hangs out with Kendra as she tends to animals or with the Priory's flock of skyscales.
Tag: #Noiza
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Haidee
Asura | Female (she/her) | 1303 AE | Mirage | Order of Whispers's "associate" & researcher in Taimi's krewe
She and her partner Dorrya [my partner's character] are both acquaintances of Zojja, and they decided to aid the Pact during most of their campaigns without ever really joining in, stepping in to help with various tasks when required, such as helping survivors, handling supplies or evacuating people. After Kralkatorrik's death, they joined Taimi's krewe and later managed her old lab while she was in the Eye of the North.
Currently taking a vacation with her partner, still in contact with Taimi in case they're needed.
Tag: #Haidee | In game name: Haidee The Mirage
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Okami Whitewings
Charr | Agender (they/them) | 1295 AE | Ranger | [my main and fursona's self-insert]
Became a member of the Wings warband after Aurelia left Reeva in charge as Legionnaire and kept their status of free agent.
No one knows what their exact deal is (they swear not to be involved with the Order of Whispers) and they don't exactly know the Commander, but they're often seen around Tyria doing a variety of stuff.
Partner of Xyrod and best friend of Doryx [my partner's characters].
Tag: #Okami Whitewings
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Ye Jam
Fractal anomaly? | ??? | ???? AE | ???
Aurelia's mind has blocked out most of her time in the Mists, but she remembers... a friend? Multiple or the same? Always different, always there...
Tag: #Ye Jam
_________________________
Miscellaneous non-in-game character tags (adding them as I use them)
Dragon/Wing warband: #Ardea | #Obsius | tba
Charr: #Favian Sharpmark | #x
Asura: #Quazz | #Alyt | #Nuvly | #Huki | #x
Human: #Gaell | #Zuri | #x
Norn: #Gretna | #x
Total GW2 characters counter: 291+ (actually way over 300 not including pets, still sorting and counting)
#character list#Aurelia Dragonwings#Adamas Crystalsoul#Aurelia#Tocchix#Maeveryl#Hel Ravenlost#Ellara Echodancer#Bunnie#Ethanryel#Deryn#Markus Blake#Iotta#Poffi#Daunte Burstspell#Flom#Zar'gol#Nari#Zehmik#Hagan#Noiza#Haidee#Okami Whitewings#Ye Jam
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Magic Awakens | CH 45: Daenerys Targaryen XII
Summary: Dany continues her campaign to break the chains in Slaver's Bay.
A Preview:
Arthur and Barristan exchanged a worried look. Daenerys glared at them. “You do not approve? I should not use my greatest weapons to end this swiftly?” she asked them accusingly.
“Fire is indiscriminate, my Queen. It would not do well to burn the city to the ground,” Arthur bravely stated. He did not flinch as her violet orbs flickered with flame that would burn him if it could. He knew her well enough by now to know she burned bright and hot as an inferno, but cooled just as quickly.
“You think me capable of such a thing, Ser? That is the measure you have taken of me in all this time?”
Dany couldn’t help the rage that threatened to swallow her, at the heart of her anger was hurt and grief. It did not seem to matter how many times she proved herself, people seemed to always expect the worst from her when her dragons were involved.
Arthur had the good sense to look contrite and fully scolded. ”Your Grace, my apologies. I know how badly you wish to win this battle. You are young and headstrong, which makes you impulsive. But I should know by now that you would not risk so many innocent lives.”
His purple eyes twinkled, and the corners wrinkled as his dark hair flowed behind him, now tinged with a hint of silver streaks showing his age. He looked nearly a Targaryen as a small but proud smile played on his lips. There were many times she wished the man truly was her father, and she could almost pretend he was.
Ser Arthur knew she would forgive him. She always had and hoped to always be willing to let those around her speak freely without fear. She wasn’t one to be careless about bloodshed and loss of innocent lives. Sometimes though, she knew a swift and fierce ending was better than a cautious drawn out approach.
If millions died slowly starving to death, was that not worse than burning a few thousand? She shivered, her mind was jumbled, as too many thoughts raced within. There had to be another way. She took a steadying breath, an idea forming as she watched the camps.
“Sellswords like to talk, or so I am told. Invite them to my tent this evening. Send for the captains of the companies and I shall hear them out. Though not together. Make sure they are never both seen here at the same time, leave a couple hours in between,” Dany commanded.
“As you wish, My Queen. And, if they do not come?” her sworn sword queried, his head still bowed in contrition at having jumped to conclusions.
“They will come. I am the Dragon Queen, they will wish to take measure of me and my greatest weapons. They will not resist a chance to see for themselves,” Dany said as she turned away and walked back to her silver mount.
She threw her leg over and situated herself upon the beautiful steed she turned back to her swords and told them, “I will await for them in my pavilion.” Then she rode back to camp as they followed suit behind her.
As she arrived the area was bustling with activity. She could see the Unsullied had dug over half the trench that would encircle them. The eunuch soldiers had lopped branches from the forest trees and were sharpening them into stakes to fortify the camp.
Grey Worm had insisted upon the measures as the newly elected leader of the Unsullied, chosen by his own men for the highest rank. Dany had put Ser Jorah in charge of taking Grey Worm under his wing and instructing him on how to command. This was one of the many tasks she put before him to test his loyalty.
The exiled bear spoke highly of Grey Worm. He said he was hard but fair, quick to learn, tireless and completely unrelenting with attention to detail. The Unsullied had spoken little to her, only what was necessary when spoken to, but she had seen a change slowly start to occur in him, especially when he stole glances at Missandei.
Her scribe would blush and try to hide her shy grin. It warmed her soul to see the two with interest in each other, though she held her tongue. They deserved some happiness, but she would not meddle in their personal lives.
It also gave her a pang of jealousy, for she had never felt such reciprocated interest in a man. Oh, of course many men had looked at her to admire her beauty, their lust clearly written on their face. They spoke flowery words and even offered marriage, but it was always to use her for some reason and never genuine.
It was never for the person she was, only what she could offer; power, a beautiful trophy on their arm, dragons, status. They all saw the Dragon Queen, not the young woman underneath, not Dany. Her mind drifted to the mysterious shadow that haunted her dreams.
Her mind drifted to the mysterious shadow that haunted her dreams. A man her own age that felt familiar though she knew she had never met him. She never shared these dreams with anyone, they were private and just for her.
Many mornings she would wake up and let her hand drift to the place between her legs after having these dreams. He never spoke, nor could she see his face, but the things they did together were things shared only between lovers, or so she thought. She shook her head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts.
It wasn’t the only thing that plagued her dreams. Still she saw the sea of blue eyes, chasing her, surrounding her, burying her, beneath them as they clawed and scratched and bit her, tearing her apart. Even more frightening, sometimes she heard a horrible sound. It reverberated through her bones, like the scream of a thousand tortured souls.
Then the cold would fill her veins, freezing her from within, until her own eyes turned blue. She watched it as if she were floating above, a raven in the wind. Her dragons sang out in grief as her fire died.
She woke up gasping still feeling the ice of winter within her, as if it would never thaw. Many times she would seek out her children or her shadowcat and bask in their fire until it subsided. Now that she successfully skinchanged, she would increasingly find herself flying over Yunkai or Astapor, or the many leagues between, the warm breeze under her scaly wings, exploring the terrain and appreciating the landscape below her.
Others she would be running and bounding through the brush, until she found her prey, her sharp teeth sinking into its neck, the warm blood splaying into her mouth. It didn’t disgust her as it should in those dreams. Instead it made her hungry, especially as her fire roasted the poor animal and the aroma of burnt meat filled her senses.
The one that stuck with her the most though, was of her brother. He would be laying in a bed, in a room she had never seen before, crying out for her. He whispered her name in the dark like a prayer. Tears filled his eyes. Where she used to only see rage and resentment, she now saw shame and regret; a clarity and light there he lacked in his later years, despite the pain he held.
“Dany, please. Forgive me. I beg of you. I miss you, Dany. I love you. I swear I love you. I have always loved you. Forgive me, sweet sister. You deserved better than me,” he would cry into his pillow.
When she tried to call his own name, her voice sounded like an echoed wisp. He shot up, a small spark jumped from his fingertips. Then the world spun away and all was black.
It felt so real, like when she skinchanged, or had a dragon dream. Yet none of it made any sense. Her brother was dead. She held his body until it turned cold wrapped in her arms, her tears staining his blood soaked body.
His eyes were open and unseeing, devoid of anything behind them, even the lilac seemed to dim. With the colorful flames of her children, she burned his body, as was the Targaryen way. The blue, black, green, and gold flames danced upon his pyre, before she turned away, unable to watch any longer.
She would never get the chance to tell him she forgave him. She would never be able to ask him why, or to beg him for absolution. Dany wished she could scream at him, hold him, hit him, hear him tell her a story as he ran a finger through her hair and called her his little princess like he did when she was a small child.
She wasn’t sure which, her feelings all mixed up when she thought of them causing a knot to form and dwell in her stomach. She pushed it all away, forced the dreams into the farthest recesses of her mind. She needed to focus, lives depended upon her being at her best.
“The Wise Masters of Yunkai have assembled a slave army to stand against us,” Daenerys informed the Commander.
“A slave in Yunkai learns the seven sighs and sixteen seats of pleasure, Your Grace. Unsullied learn the way to the three spears. Grey Worm hopes to show you,” he proudly and eagerly explained to her.
It made her uncomfortable sometimes how devoted they were to her. She did not wish them to feel yoked into different chains, and serve her solely from obligation. But they appeased her fears and guilt and insisted they chose her as their queen.
Click here to read full story on AO3
#jonerys fanfiction#daenerys targeryan#jonerys#daenerys deserved better#yunkai#magic awakens#viserys targaryen#jonerys endgame#ao3
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[And last] Playlist 100: Coinless Adam Park
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What if Adam Park had gone to the Coinless when his wife and child had fallen ill to something as simple and common as pneumonia?
What if the separation between the Stone Canyon trio had happened so different as to turn the wheels of fate in slightly better, slightly worse, directions?
It would be foolish and stupid to imagine that if Adam remained in the side of the light that things would be that easy. He went to the Coinless not because he was brave, or even trying to do the right thing after seeing Aisha, once, in the Yellow Sentries taking inventory in his little tailor shop, making sure that the Coinless weren't using him to traffic in stolen goods or contraband. He was once quite desperate to see one of his best friends in the world, no matter the circumstances, but his wife had been in the back room with their eight month old, both burning hot to the touch and soaking in sweat and he knew that these people would not help him.
Aisha least of all, because even though he had no doubt that she would have tried her best if he'd asked, the Angel Grove civilians knew the score, knew that any women in Drakkon's armies were given much fewer privileges than their male counterparts and were often subject to just as much scrutiny and ridicule as any street walker or senile elder.
So he went to the Coinless as soon as the sentries were out of the shop, their footsteps fading into the alleys and Adam packing up his family to scurry out the back towards a bar with at least one familiar face that came and went and would not--did not--turn him down.
*
Rocky looked weathered and worn since the last Adam had seen him, his parents gone, his youngest brother gone, all of his siblings champing at the bit to help Adam almost the moment Rocky brought him to the Coinless encampment and gave his wife and child a look over, consideration, medication that was mostly just holistic medicine in herbs and clean water and keeping them warm and comfortable.
Riley was nice enough, and brave enough, to tell Rocky to talk to Adam about the chances of survival, with the infant so silent and hot and the woman gagging with each hack of her lungs the taste of something iron and terrible on her tongue every other minute.
Adam was...not mad, or angry, merely resigned in the night when Rocky finally rounded up a small vial of the hardest wine he had found in years to hand over to Adam with the news, "If they remain on course they'll survive. But we can't promise anything. Bulk can only get his connection to retrieve medical for us once a month and the Penicillin we have from the last run is gone."
"What are their chances?"
Rocky nodded for Adam to drink first, and when he knocked back the almost drink that was so red it might have looked like ink in moonlight, the taste had settled on his tongue and on his throat like the first sweet apple of a finely cared for orchard, the feeling of the alcohol swift as Rocky's honest answer.
"Wait and see."
Somewhere in Drakkon's fortress, the Huntsman was in conversation with the Ranger Slayer in her Coinless accoutrement about a possible leak in the chain--a spy or two--and asking for opinions on who it might be that kept supplying their forces with medical and food and tips on fight patterns.
Two days later, Bulk was given a final warning that had been going on ever since Billy was discovered to be under Drakkon's control and fled to the bastard himself to do his evil deeds and give the advice he never would have gotten from Finster-5; words that made the new world order both better and worse, harder and easier in a spinning wheel.
He asked Kim a question, she answered it wrong--and realized it but half a second later.
Adam's news that his wife and child were not long for the world came from Rocky just as an explosion from the heart of the Mastodon base set off, the trio of Ashley, Cassie, and Carlos on guard on the medical wing leaving Adam with Justin Stewart--so young and so clever--to rush in and find out what was happening.
There wasn't another explosion, but there was a loud sort of impact that Adam would later help Rocky put back together in the biggest door to their hideout being shattered outward by one of Kim's arrows on her escape from the onrush of the Coinless trying to catch her before she got out and back to Drakkon.
Trini and Zack had to be carried in by the trio that had gone, all of them yelling for pressure and bandages and sterile water. Rocky telling Adam to help him get Bulk out from under a collapsed wall and the both of them feeling much like a pair of rabbits trying to move a huge mountain dog.
Adam wasn't surprised that his wife and child left in all the commotion, not moved from their places in the warmest corner of medical, but probably aware that this was Adam's lot in life now.
They were burned and their ashes scattered no more than ten hours later, once the Coinless were sure their Generals would survive being moved to a location Kim didn't know about. Adam only kept his wife's wedding ring and his child's rib bone that had not been cooked and splintered in the makeshift mausoleum.
Much was unexpected between being accepted into the ranks--what else could the Coinless do after all Adam had helped with and all that he'd lost in the interim--and Drakkon being mad enough to try and conquer The Grid itself.
Unlike in one reality and lifetime, the Ranger Slayer ceased trying to kill all the Coinless whenever she was sent out because the Huntsman recommended to Drakkon that without something to fight against, there was very little to keep the people from becoming aware of his private machinations. She goaded and hissed threats and generally acted like a thing in the dark that parents warned their small children about, but the one time Adam had crossed paths with her out on the field, she had dismissed him as nothing and went with her squadron looking for Trini with the Relic.
After Zack and Trini got out of medical, Adam was left rather floundering on what to think as they and Bulk kept getting into never-ending verbal spats about the nature of Kim and Billy's minds and whether or not their one and only spy had gone turncoat on them.
"He's the one that warned us about her from the beginning!"
"And once she showed herself he's nowhere to be found?"
Adam felt bad in that silence that always followed, from down the hall of a bar the Coinless were in because of the kindness of strangers; from his perch on a watch post in faded whispers when he was grudgingly giving Rocky a cigarette; echoed amongst the other Coinless when they were sure none of their Generals were listening because they didn't want to hurt Trini or Zack--the only former Rangers here, with Trini's back covered in burns from the Slayer's treachery and Zack missing a spleen and having two other fingers sliced off his left hand--but they also didn't want to hurt Bulk (the Slayer had only battered him to the side when she went after her two former teammates, but the collapsed wall had left him with deep scars on his back and a piece of pipe had ripped through his right leg so they had to cut off dying tissue almost down to the bone).
*
About seventeen months after the Coinless had been without their one contact, though, the Sentries--at least more than twenty of them--began behaving in ways that Adam could only describe as petty--but not towards them.
"Are they...snubbing Drakkon?"
Rocky had been thorough when checking a package a pair of Kitties had left in a bar the Coinless were known to frequent, but the Generals were all still very suspicious when they found it completely without a trap or poison or the like; merely filled with things they needed, that could last, without explanation.
Of course, that was only the first time. When it kept happening--that and being chased into an alleyway in broad daylight only for the sentries to stop when they turned the corner and wait until the Coinless were well out of reach before moving again, being largely ignored when some were on contraband detail, taking the opportunities in the middle of shootouts to nail observation towers and military cameras before straight up walking away--the Coinless held a meeting about it to discuss observations or interactions out of the ordinary.
"I think it's more than that," Adam thought aloud, Rocky handing him a cookie that looked like a smooth dollop of solid icing but really tasted delicious with something like vanilla and butter, things he only enjoyed once every couple of years but had been getting more often since these little gifts kept finding their way to their bases, "I caught a couple of differently ranked Sentries the other day talking about Drakkon being completely unfair and the Huntsman taking things too far without evidence. The head of the group was a Red I think I saw in high school, Johnson Something Or Other, and he was...well, he was with Aisha looking at these little snapshot photos. The ones without a helmet on looked pretty pissed and kind of disgusted?"
"So it's something going on inside the palace that is bringing about defiance that Drakkon can't seem to quash," Bulk decided after a moment, looking into the middle distance of nothing, that big brain of his contemplating the idea of internalized struggles amongst a regime and how history might be of use to them in finding ways to push this to the advantage of the Coinless, "I wonder..."
*
Adam doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when he and Rocky are on patrol of Coinless territory and find Aisha waiting on the border like a stray wolf in the rain, mouth giving away free information because she's angry and it's a known fact that Drakkon doesn't care what the women in his ranks do as long as they don't do anything too obvious and piss him off.
"Eugene Skullovitch is out of the Deadlock and says that Jason Scott has been inside since Drakkon took over. He can't move because of some sort of trigger Drakkon placed on him to call on Dark Specter's lieutenants or for the Ranger Slayer to kill herself if he tries to leave."
They both know those names and what they mean, but Rocky is still angry over Aisha wearing that armor. He'd almost stabbed her once in the field but a few years previous when his youngest sister had angered another Yellow Sentry and died because she'd been pushed and hit her head at just the wrong angle; the only reason any of the Sentries made it out was because when Rocky his wrath aimed at Aisha, a Red Sentry got in the way and took the big fucking knife to the chest before kicking Rocky out of a window.
(Adam still wasn't sure, Rocky still wasn't sure, how that knife found its way back to him, but Trini had sequestered Rocky to duties at the base until he'd mourned properly--drinking, punching sandbags in training halls, fucking Adam desperately after breaking down in tears five nights a week--and had put him in teams of four a good five months after that.)
But Adam just wanted to hold onto the hope. And he believed her even as Rocky tried to hiss something horrible as she turned back towards the city and walked away.
"Just thought you ought to know."
#world of the coinless#shattered grid#mmpr#ggpr#mighty morphin comics#go go power rangers comic#adam park#rocky desantos#aisha campbell#ask fill#prompt fill#playlist#eugene skull skullovitch#farkas bulk bulkmeier#ranger slayer#evil! billy cranston AU#lord drakkon#zack taylor#trini
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Another Attempt of writing FFXIV X Batman.
As Jason leaned against the elegant balcony of Rowena’s House of Splendors, the warm rays of the sun caressed his face.
He gazed at the vast expanse of the cloudless sky, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of Silvertear Lake. A wistful smile graced his lips as he pondered, “I wonder if you’re proud of me, Bruce?”
Memories of his rescue from the relentless onslaught of the Rhotano Sea by the brave sailors from Limsa flooded his mind. It had been three years since that fateful day, three years since he first encountered Y’shtola who, with her wise guidance, introduced him to the enigmatic Scions of the Seventh Dawn. He had reluctantly taken on the mantle of the Warrior of Light.
The journey he went through was hellish, from escaping the Bloody Banquet to averting the Final Days. Despite facing death twice already, he refused to succumb.
“Ahki! We’re leaving for Ishgard soon!” Jason’s attention snapped back to the present as he looked down at his younger brother, Damian Al-Ghul, or rather Damian Todd, waiting for him.
Alphinaud Leveilleur, another one of his kids under his broken wings, urged him not to keep Lord Aymeric waiting. “Jason, you’re more dramatic than Emet-Selch,” Alisae Leveilleur, a spirited kid, exclaimed with a hint of exasperation.
Jason let out a hearty chuckle, the sound echoing through the crisp air. “Aye, another adventure awaits, eh?” he whispered, his words barely audible as he stood on the balcony. With a swift leap, he gracefully descended and landed with a soft thud in front of his companions. The gentle breeze tousled his hair as he playfully tousled the locks on each of his kids, Damian and Alisae, despite their feeble attempts to resist. They could feel the warmth of his touch and the love in his actions.
Together, Jason and his comrades embarked on a journey to Ishgard, their footsteps resounding against the cobblestone streets. The vibrant sights of the city greeted them with towering spires and bustling market stalls. As they made their way to Aymeric and Count Edmont, Jason recounted his thrilling tales, his voice carrying a sense of excitement and wonder. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, intermingling with the aroma of blooming flowers, creating a symphony of smells that filled their senses.
In their hearts, they knew that this was not the end. Someday, they would reunite in the vast expanse of the Aetherial Sea, their souls reborn anew. The anticipation and hope stirred within them, like a gentle breeze whispering promises of a future reunion.
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Your Hidden Wings
\\Songbird Wings//
Your cheery, down-to-earth personality would be best represented with soft, feathery songbird wings! These wings can come in a wide variety of colors, normally brown or gray with intricate markings. They are similar to Angel wings, but are broader and suited more for maneuverable flight that for heights.
People with hidden bird wings are very adventurous, and are very strong and brave by heart. Many others seem to overlook them or not take them seriously, but when the time calls for it, you could be much more powerful than even you thought you were. You are very curious and intelligent, and always in search for a new adventure to add some excitement to life. Most likely you are very active and outdoorsy, and have a love for nature and the world around you. You are cheerful, spunky, and are inspired to explore and discover new things!
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Strengths: Friendly, Adventurous, Brave, Intelligent, Curious
Weaknesses: Overlooked, Reckless, Careless at times
Flight style: Lower altitudes; Swift turns and agility
Representing Element(s): Earth
~
Tagged by: @poeticphoenix --!! <3
Tagging: YOU!
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