#you and who's army? fantastic beasts and where to find them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pseudowho · 2 months

Text

Calamus et Gladius

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Stolen from a foreign army to participate in the Culling Game, speaking little to no Japanese with just a rifle for self-defence, the reader partakes in a bittersweet dance of death and love, with Higuruma Hiromi.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lovers, murder, use of firearms, the desperate smut of two traumatised people who fall hopelessly in love.

This is long, but I make no apologies, because the payoff is worth it.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were used to violence. You were used to senseless bloodshed. Used to rains of bullets, flinging shrapnel, your ears ringing with explosions and screams.

Yet, it was your own screams that rang through you, as an enormous gavel split the earth where you had just stood.

Your entire unit was dead, almost fifty men and women lured into Tokyo Colony One, and you scrabbled back on grazed hands, kicking feet, as this ink-haired monster stepped slowly through the rubble and gore, black eyes fixed on you with the rage and fervour of a justified killer.

He appeared to hesitate only briefly as your face crumpled up at him in tearful rage and despair, desperation. You did not move to grab the rifle on your back; a threat of retaliation would be your downfall.

Despite being the only one of your unit who had had something new, something alien awakened within them, you had developed no fantastical technique. You had no mystical weapon. You had no roiling blue flames engulfing your fists. You had only the ability to sense others like you, and the horrifying stop-motion beasts that now sullied your sight. It was enough, at least, to hide.

"Please-- please--" you begged, the last attempt of a cornered woman. Your back pressed against the wall, the wide street around you a no-man's land of rubble, overturned cars and bloody splatters. The man's hand tightened on his gavel, his other raising to swipe flicks of black fringe off his forehead. He frowned, stopping. You noticed his distinctive hooked nose, crinkling in disgust.

"English," he offered, thickly accented, neither a question or a statement. You gulped, nodding with urgency, any dialogue an opportunity to re-establish his humanity.

"Innocent," you insisted, hands raised in front of you, disarming, "I'm innocent." That word, the man seemed to recognise, and he blew air through his nose, snorting in mirth.

"Innocent?" He asked, sarcastic.

He knelt down in front of you, his eyes still offering no mercy, but he spoke to you so conversationally. He reached one long finger out, tapping the rifle on your back, coming back round to stroke you teasingly along the side of your cheek, holding it so tenderly. His words washed over you, meaningless, until you caught one you could understand as he stood up.

"...sorry." His arm raised, the head of the gavel blocking out the sun, and you took your chance.

Your hand darted, and you flung a handful of brick dust into his eyes as he spat, staggered, cursing. You brought the butt of your rifle round to slam into the side of his head, and although he barely faltered, you ran for your life, darting down alleys, your heart bursting in your ears.

You heard no footsteps chasing you. He could have...but he didn't.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Just one easy kill.

The others had all gone down so hard, Hiromi thought, stepping into his swing, barely missing the foreign woman, the gavel making a buckled crater in the tarmac instead. Hiromi tsked, annoyed, kissing his teeth. Watching her squirm on the floor to save her life, a worm from a bird, Hiromi's gut churned-- ugly.

Murder was so easy. The power to beat scum at their own game was intoxicating. Hiromi stepped after her, so far removed from his old self. His usual self? He wasn't sure.

His keen eyes built the woman's character, hawkish and unforgiving. Young...naive. Soldier...killer. No Japanese...lazy. Pleading...pathetic. Not fighting...coward. By the time she began to beg Hiromi, she was already barely human in his eyes. Swiping his hair upwards, and tightening his grip for the deathblow, he spat, "English."

She caught his eye, and Hiromi felt the barest seed of guilt in the back of his mind, an itch he could not scratch. She had nodded at him, tears brimming in her eyes, hands raised in placation.

"Innocent," the woman had insisted, "...innocent." Bile rose in Hiromi's throat at the familiar word, and the audacity she had to use it for herself, as if she wasn't rolling in the same pigshit as the rest of them. Hiromi's lip curled, smirking as he rubbed his nose with the side of one long finger.

"Innocent?" He stabbed. Hiromi knelt, talking at you as if you understood.

"What's that? You're the good guy, are you?" He mocked, reaching out to tap the rifle on your back, feeling you flinch beneath him, "Is it this, that makes you innocent, hmm?" He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with the blade of his finger, swiping away the tears that had cut a track through the dust and grime, "Or this pretty face, hmmm? Are those big, teary eyes what make you innocent? Don't make me laugh. You're scum, just like the rest of us. And natural law is at play here." He cupped your cheek once, squeezing it with the barest of sincerities in his apology as he stood.

"Sorry," Hiromi offered, lifting his gavel and feeling power churn through him, just and righteous as your executioner.

Hiromi cursed as he felt a spray of grit flung into his face, immediately disarmed by the sordid pain of sand in his eyes, further disorientated by the ear-ringing slam of something into the side of his head. He staggered, faltering.

"Oooh, you piece of shit," Hiromi cooed, vicious, spitting with venom, vision completely obscured as he tried in vain to clear his eyes. He felt you disappear, and he leaned against the wall, laughing despite himself at having been bested. He smiled, the barest tinge of admiration for your tenacity threading through him.

"Alright," Hiromi sniffed, rubbing his nose again as his vision began to clear, "catch you later, I suppose."

Hiromi tried to forget you. He tried to forget his humanity, but each life he took made him sicker, infected by this game.

Every time he closed his eyes, to sleep in some strange home-less, love-less bed, your eyes met his, impeaching him.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Resources soon ran thin, for one who held no territory. You had your army pack, and rationed out your meagre foodstuffs, always hungry, always on-edge. You had never fought alone, in war.

You had managed to develop quite the skill at hiding, and concealed yourself, cloaked in plain sight, from even the most powerful of those left in the game. Every day that the stragglers were picked off, the stakes ran higher. Every explosive battle you ran from, dodging the falling debris thrown by titans, you felt your inherent value as an easy kill increasing.

You thought of the hook-nosed man who had let you go. Despite his willingness to kill you, you craved human contact, and found warmth in the memory of the heat of his gaze, his hand on your face, desperately trying to translate the words he had spoken to you as he caressed your cheek.

One dewy dawn, you had taken position on a sheltered rooftop, giving you equal measures concealment and oversight. With your rifle drawn, flat on your belly, you felt the ebbs and wanes of a familiar power draw closer. Curiously, it made your belly clench, eager to see the man who could have chased you, but didn't. You were itching to know why. Itching to behold him again.

Your heart leapt as he stepped into the street, at least four stories below you. Even from this distance, you could see the intensity of his furrowed brow, the noble bearing of his shoulders beneath a great black overcoat. His tie hung, dishevelled, loose-knotted. He was hunting.

He paused, tiptoed on a breath...before rolling, gracefully dodging as a knife of Cursed energy ricocheted through the street, splitting it. You gasped, your eye moving away from your rifle lens, watching in awe as he took to battle with another man. While he seemed to hold his own, he appeared distracted, and was buffeted, winded by an almighty hit, knocked onto his back, elbows on the ground.

A strange panic overtook you as your hook-nosed man's assailant bore down on him, power surging, preparing to murder--

-- a gunshot. A brittle, echoing bang. The assailant's head snapped forwards, and he fell, killed instantly, face first on the ground in front of your hook-nosed man.

He panted, his face sprayed with blood. With a few owlish blinks, his eyes tracked upwards. You held your breath, adrenaline coursing through you. As the man stood, eyes fixed on you (in rage? murderous intent? thanks?), you jolted to life and took aim on him.

He did not raise his hands. There was no standoff, as he made no move to save his own life. In the moment that he accepted his death for the attempt he had made on yours, something in you both softened, seeing each other as you saw no others. A gentle impasse. The intimacy of differentiation.

It took everything you had in you to break eye contact, and run.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi mulled beneath the shaky warning of your rifle.

You were afraid, he thought as he gazed up at you, so sickeningly grateful for having been chosen by you. The mist of his opponent's blood drifting through the sunrise, picked Hiromi out as somehow preferable, in your mind.

And, why should you not be afraid? He saw you beneath him, again, your eyes soft and begging him for mercy. You had been defenceless and entirely in his palm. He had been relieved, he recalled, that he could kill someone easily. The begging made you passive. Hiromi could have vomitted, sickened by himself.

He stood, arms raised slightly to his sides, his profile illuminated by sweet morning sun, waiting for death to take his hand.

Hiromi felt embraced by your eyes. Wanted. Some companionship, in death...until you refused him his end. The red string between you both seemed to snap as you broke eye contact and ran.

Alone, as the sun broke above the skyline, Hiromi whispered; "Thank you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

There was no way out. Starving and desperate, days had passed since you had saved your hook-nosed man, and you had crept through haunted streets to a convenience store, unusually well-stocked with food and drink.

You bit your tongue for your own stupidity at having walked into such an obvious trap. No amount of being able to hide one's Cursed energy could compensate for being seen walking into the shop. Crouching now, behind shelves of ramen, tears trembled on your lashes, an aching lump in your throat.

You heard a mocking voice, cooing at you, laughing at you, and you blushed with indignant tearful injustice, not needing language to know when you were being assaulted for your sex. You were afraid of death. You were more afraid of being used beforehand.

With nowhere to hide, and no grit to throw, you tipped your head back and thought of those black embering eyes, holding you in his gaze.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Are you hungry?" The voice chirped, teasing, mean, "Come out, baby. I've got something here in my pocket you can taste." A filthy laugh. Slow, easy footsteps. Willing to rape you before he killed you. Hiromi felt himself burn with fury, ready to wring this man's neck with his own two hands.

Hiromi walked the streets easily, now. His power had come on in leaps and bounds, and he both trusted in his own abilities, and feared nothing of death. Not since you had held his life in your hands, and thrown it straight back in his face.

He was a disordered eater at the best of times, but, a sudden faintness from hunger sent him seeking food. Hiromi knew some dirty little spider had built a web at an abandoned store, and did not fear a man who sought to ensnare the desperate.

Let him try me, thought Hiromi as he approached, lit by the sickly orange glow of streetlights, and see where it gets him.

Just a few steps from the entrance, Hiromi paused mid-step, his heart hiccuping in his chest. It was you. Inside the store, your Cursed energy faltering and so overwhelmed by that of the spider. Hiromi's lips parted, to call for you, a hand in the dark. He stopped, gritting his teeth. No-- this would not do, he thought, as he began a hunt of his own.

The spider was so obviously distracted by excitement, thrilled to find a woman in his dirty little trap. He had found you, by the time Hiromi reached you, in time to see you flung, body smashing against the counter, curling and coughing. Hiromi stepped behind the spider, seething, overburdened with terrible strength.

You had looked up in time to see your hook-nosed man wind an arm round your assailant's neck, throttling him, dragging him backwards out of the store. The hook-nosed man's face was twisted, ugly with rage...and for what? For you?

If your Cursed-energy had been no match for that of your assailant, his was dwarfed by that of your rescuer. Still coughing, doubled over on your hands and knees, you crawled to the entrance, watching the streetlights flicker above your hook-nosed man as he choked the life out of your assailant, merciless in his conviction.

You knelt there, drinking in his profile, in that sickly orange glow. His sharply squared jaw. His black overcoat, shrouding him like Death itself. Panting and cursing as his arms shook, your assailant fighting weakly beneath him. Choking the life out of a man, a murder most intimate. For you. Killing, with his bare hands-- for you.

Time hung in suspended animation in these small hours. Your rescuer sighed, the tension releasing from his shoulders as he knelt back on his haunches. He appeared devoid of guilt, at having carried out his sentencing. Slowly, as if fearful of what he would see in your eyes, he turned to you, kneeling in the doorway of the shop.

Your eyes met. You studied each other in silence. He had a way of making you transparent. You had a way of making him exposed. His panting slowed, palms flush to his thighs, offering you a cautious smile, as your eyes glimmered in the dark.

"English," he spoke, by way of greeting.

"Nose," you returned. He frowned, uncertain.

"N..?"

You reached up to stroke your nose, and repeated, with a smile; "Nose."

His hand reached up to mirror yours, realising, and he burst into laughter, rich and genuine. You blushed, burying your face in your hands as he continued to laugh. He wiped his eyes, fingering the hook in his nose again, looking at you with those deep embering eyes that wholly undressed you.

"Nose," he repeated, chuckling, "Subarashī." Your bit your lip in mirth, looking anywhere but at him as he tried to catch your eye again, mischief twinkling in his.

Hiromi stood, stretching his shoulders back with a husky groan, tipping his neck from side to side. He stepped over to you, and you felt, ridiculously, so teenagerish as the odd duality of your hook-nosed man made your belly twist. You saw a long-fingered hand enter your line of sight. You looked at it questioningly. The fingers wiggled in invitation.

With a shaking hand, you took his. He pulled you up and smiled at you, swinging your hand briefly in his before releasing it, waiting for you to step into the shop before he followed. You browsed for food, as if Saturday-Night-Snack-Hunting as a couple, in safe silence.

Shivering as the adrenaline wore off, your stomach clenched with terrified nausea to hear explosions, shouts, drawing ever nearer in the street outside. Your hook-nosed man looked up, hangdog eyes wide, flicking from you, to the street, and back again. He gritted his teeth, bundling packets of food into the pockets of his overcoat.

You found yourself manhandled, his heavy coat suddenly on you. Your rescuer's hands moved deftly, smoothing the coat across your shoulders, searching for words, irritated by his intelligence in one language and his stupidity in another.

"Cold-- hungry-- go," Hiromi pressed in broken English, spinning you as you protested, urging you through the back door. You turned in the doorway, your eyes begging him to...what? To go with you? There was no time, no time--

Hiromi materialised his gavel, and crouched, snarling at you: "GO!" He roared, steeped in regret as you sprinted away, guarding your life like a child.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your hook-nosed man began to leave you breadcrumbs; tickets to safe havens, food, shelter, beds. You felt the vestiges of his Cursed-energy wherever you followed his trail, haunted by the path of devastation he left to build you sanctuaries.

Your dialogue budded, and combined with his notes and signs, you began to learn more about him. His notes, secreted away in scrawled English, street signs flipped to point in alternate directions, and crude maps drawn on dust-caked windows, all added colour and life to him.

Hiromi took a little joy, his cold heart popping to life, at the little hearts you drew in the dust; signs of acknowledgement, a tiny thrill.

You found yourself drawn to a bookstore, and scoured the shelves, looking for a particular something, a matching pair. You found hints of him in the pockets of the hook-nosed man's overcoat; a business card, in Japanese. A handkerchief, curiously embroidered with two gold initials-- H.H. A set of housekeys with a key-finder fob. A pair of chewed pens. You still thought of him as "Nose".

Hiromi still thought of you as "English", as he caught himself differentiating you from the others. Still steeped in this depression, this black-dog-misery and ugliness, he saw you, a light in the dark, who hid yourself to protect yourself as well as others, from needless violence.

They were all ugly...except, perhaps, for you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You sighed as you slipped into the hot bath, water up to your chin in the great, deep basin of this luxury hotel. You were impressed there was still a hot water supply, and you felt a gleeful coil of naughtiness, knowing you would never usually be able to afford to stay in such opulence, all marble tiles and gold taps.

Fighting for survival did not negate the fundamental craving for little joys, and you took advantage of the selection of complimentary soaps, scouring yourself free of grime with happy hums. You sang to yourself, quiet in the evening hush, just you and your languid splishing--

-- oh. A cautious approach. A familiar power. You clasped the lip of the bath, sinking your body under the water.

"...hello? Nose?" You called out. You heard the click of a lock, quick feet stepping in, locking the door behind him. A single held breath.

"...English?"

You blushed, pressing your lips to your knuckles, white from how tightly you gripped the bath. Hiromi's cheeks prickled faintly, hearing soft splashes from the bathroom, seeing your clothes discarded over the bed, your rifle leaning against it. You cleared your throat, wanting to talk, not knowing where to start.

"Mhm." Hiromi smiled at your little squeak, sitting with a groan and creaking knees, his back against the wall beside the bathroom door. Separated by this thin wall, he reached a hand around the doorway behind him. You giggled to see his long fingered hand offer you a jaunty wave.

"Konbanwa, English," he offered. He jolted to feel your little hand, warm and wet, squeeze his. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, smooth, examining, probing in a way that made your belly tight. You reluctantly released his fingers, humming in thought as you reached out of the bath into your backpack, searching for something.

Momentarily, Hiromi felt something gently tap the side of his head around the bathroom door, and he giggled, a noise which made you paddle your feet in delight. He reached up, taking a Japanese-English dictionary and phrasebook from your hand.

"Ahhhhh!" Hiromi hummed, genuinely thrilled, "Yoi aidea." He skimmed through the book, hunting again, and you paused, listening.

"Good idea!" He stated, confident, and he squirmed to hear you laugh at his janky pronunciation. Hiromi wanted so dearly to see you, to know you were uninjured, and instead scoured his little book again.

"Hurt?" He asked you. You softened, responding automatically.

"Ah...no, I'm...hmm," you flipped through your own book, "...uhm...daijōbu desu?"

Hiromi hummed, satisfied. You talked this way, for some time, gently brushing the outskirts of each others' language and personality. Hiromi corrected you. You corrected him. The bath grew cold. The light began to die behind the windows, casting you both in deep shadow and amber glow.

At some point, in the conversation, your hands had trailed together again. Hiromi now leaned sideways against the wall, his cheek pressed against it, eyes closed as his fingertips grazed the inside of your wrist.

You lay in the bath, shivering, feeling your heartbeat between your legs from such an innocent, intimate touch-- except, it did not feel innocent in intent. Perhaps, that was what made you squirm.

"Stay safe," Hiromi whispered to you, his fingers drawing circles on your palm, his next word crumpling your face with barely restrained tears, "Afraid."

Hiromi bit his lip in anguish, eyes squeezed shut to see you in his mind's eye, so desperately touch-starved as you pressed a kiss to his palm. He felt your lips remain, nose ghosting against his pulse. He imagined those lips on his own, and he was filled with an anxious need to taste you, to lift you from the bath, wrap you up in the bed and his arms, safe.

Fully distracted by thoughts of you and your sweet cries beneath his body, Hiromi almost missed you holding out your book to him, pressed open at the start-- and a name, your name, written neatly on the page. You offered this, all the while wanting to step to him from the bath, and offer him the feel of those clever fingers, examining the rest of your body.

"Oh..." Hiromi whispered, reverent, squeezing your hand as he swiped his thumb over the faint imprint of your written name, repeating it aloud slowly. Hearing him speak your name, almost had you climbing out of the bath and into his lap. You closed your eyes, imagining him crying it out as he peaked, buried deeply inside you. You burned with the urgent need to know him.

Just a few seconds later, Hiromi's hand reached round the corner, offering his own book back to you, with his own name written in your own alphabet, jolted and square.

"Higuruma...Hiromi?" He hummed, happily.

"Hiromi," you repeated, and he hummed again, delighted by your name on his lips. You tucked your dictionary away, thrilled, reaching for a towel.

"It suits you. I love it." Hiromi understood just one word you had uttered, and it sent joy creeping down his spine. He pressed his forehead against the wall.

Pull yourself together, Hiromi, he thought, it's just loneliness and desperation. Nothing else. No amount of logic and self-chastisement stopped his mouth from moving independently of his mind, as he flicked through your dictionary, imbued with your name.

"Bed. Stay. Please." Silence. Hiromi pressed the corner of the dictionary to his head, cursing himself under his breath. Idiot, pathetic little moron, stupid--

"Yes."

Hiromi's stomach swooped, missing a step, hearing you climb out of the bath. You steeled yourself, blushing furiously, to wrap a towel around yourself and pad out to the bedroom. Hiromi turned his back to you, but not before seeing the graceful curve of your leg, the wet cleavage of your breasts, the towel barely skimming the tops of your thighs. He breathed slowly, clawing back his self-control as you dressed behind him.

A long, slow whistle, belonging to neither of you, broke the silence, and your blood ran with ice water.

Voices spoke, Hiromi spitting threats, in this language that still gatekept against your understanding.

You jacked sideways, still topless, seizing your rifle as Hiromi demolished the doorway with a single wide swing of his gavel. You heard laughter from the corridor, and you hurriedly pulled your top and Hiromi's overcoat on, fixing your rifle on your shoulder to take aim.

Hiromi backed up to you, wrapping one arm behind himself and around you, fingers splayed against the small of your back. You understood none of the venom spat between Hiromi and this hidden assailant.

Your nerves on a knife-edge, you sensed movement behind the shattered brickwork of the doorway, and fired, a deafening blow in this enclosed space. A spray of blood and an enraged shout through the drifting plaster-cloud saw you hit your mark, and Hiromi exclaimed, shocked and delighted, squeezing your waist.

"I've seen better shots than that from her, bastard" Hiromi warned, "and if you think she's easy prey, you've got both of us to take down."

"Hiromi," you gasped, hyperventilating, "Hiromi-- Hiromi--"

Silence through the room; Hiromi's ears rang. He pocketed your dictionary, and grasped your cheeks, eyes fixed to yours and wordlessly reassuring you as he turned you towards him from the doorway. You felt your heart bounding in your chest, hands loosening on your rifle as you drank him in, breathed the same air, panting, together--

--it was all too fast. Hiromi's eyes fixing behind you. His panicked shout. Being thrown sideways onto the bed, a glassy smash, a scream that may have been your own--

Hiromi and your hunter plummeted in an outward spray of glass, two inky blots fading into the night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had searched so desperately. Nothing could assure you Hiromi was still alive. There were no breadcrumbs left in the dust; nil but blood, and so much of it, beneath the shattered hotel window, so many stories up.

You had run your hands through it, clotted with the rubble, needing to feel him within the grisly spill-- alas. Too many residuals passed over this land. Too many battles fought, too many lives spent and saved, for clairvoyance to be what repaired your fractured heart.

You steeled yourself. Adversity goaded you to try harder. To do better. You took to the hunt yourself. You amassed points from potshots, hidden in curious places to execute nasty little opportunists who sought dominion over the weak.

While you had had no experience of the Kogane-- the odd, winged shikigami which acted as an interface between the players and the game-- in your passive state, they now became regular visitors, updating you of your points total. You had assumed they could not speak your language-- you were wrong.

Witnessing, from afar, one day, another player asking Kogane a question, your stomach rolled with nausea and hope as you called the black-tailed beast to you.

"Kogane?" The creature appeared with a pop. Your mouth opened, and closed, faltering over your words.

"Kogane, is-- is Hiromi Higuruma a player in the game?"

Silence-- and an answer; "Higuruma Hiromi is a player in the game--"

All of the air left your lungs in an enormous gasp, a heaving cry of relief as you doubled over, your hands cupped over your mouth and nose, tears streaming down around your fingers, before the Kogane had even finished giving its report.

"Thank you-- th--thank you, Kogane," you sobbed, blinded by your own tears. This tiny demon, to whom manners meant nothing, hung impassively. It disappeared with a pop as you spun away, cloaked with conviction.

You turned on a pinhead, cocking your rifle ready, and stalked off through the ruins; all of your steeling wisped away like ashes, your heart on the battlefield, knowing your vulnerability was out there, alive.

You decided now, with a smile at the thought of those beetle-black eyes, to hunt not for business, but for pleasure.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi felt the damp all the way to his bones, in these heavy, wet clothes, made heavier still by the excruciating weight of his crimes. The theatre door swung closed behind him, and he leaned his back against the wall, crouching, the palms of his heels pressing so hard into his eyes that he was blinded by lights.

He had fallen beyond salvation, and it gnawed at the rotten wood of him, eating him alive. Feeling his brain judder, his tie too tight, the walls too close, the silence too deafening, Hiromi tried to collect himself. He pressed his palms to his thighs and breathed; in through his nose one two three four five and out through his mouth one two three four five.

Feeling his heart rate slow, full of equal parts light and dark, Hiromi called out into the gloom, straightening slowly.

"Kogane." The creature appeared with a pop, waiting, patient. Hiromi spoke your name, and then, hesitant--

"...is she a player in the game?" A heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Confirmed--"

Hiromi did not hear the rest, buckling to his haunches with a primal cry of gratitude, and a few moments of dry sobs as his fingers raked through his hair. Chest heaving, he breathed again, one two three four five, one two three four five.

In the space taken for one breath, Hiromi decided not to find you. You, who had always chosen not to fight. You, whose pleading eyes still haunted him. You could not be sullied by his rot.

Hiromi stepped out into the night, a porcelain man checkered with cracks, seeking only to rebuild a world worthy of you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

He's here.

Climbing the stairs, fine piano music rang distant, its notes bittersweet, cherries in kirsch. Your feet carried you unbidden and you ascended, the notes becoming sweeter, feeling him, closer, playing this Siren's song.

Stepping into the doorway of the skyline bar, he must have felt your approach. The lights were low, refracted through a hundred hanging glasses, a hundred under-lit bottles of vim and vigour. The room sprawled out in an expansive, long C-shape, and your heart stuttered to see Hiromi at the end, pale fingers moving across the piano, white-shirt-shoulders burdened by the weight of his song.

You felt him build in the music as you approached, each note demanding more of him, and more and more and more and more--

There was only the briefest hitch in the music, barely perceptible, as you slid onto the bench beside Hiromi. He did not look up, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

Consumed by the need to feel his skin on yours, you reached out, your hand ghosting over his. In a flash, Hiromi's hand darted up to grab yours, fingers tangled, as his other hand continued to move, playing this bisected song. A few moments passed, this way, with Hiromi pressing his lips and nose to your knuckles, his face contorted, conflicted-- pained.

"Go," he whispered, breath fanning over your hand, "bad."

"I...I don't--...bad?" You turned towards him, to hold him, and he jerked, twitching away from you, and you felt your heart tug along with him.

"No. Me. I...am bad." You shook your head, more and more fervent as Hiromi twisted away from you, quietly cursing, husky, tortured. He tried to release your hand, and you refused, plaiting your fingers in his, steadfast in a way that filled him with an animalistic urge to appreciate you.

You turned from him, your other hand resting upon the high keys, pressing gentle, uncertain notes. Overwhelmed by your closeness, and your insistent faith in him, Hiromi softened to watch your profile, backlit from the liquid glow of the bar. Your small hand, moving softly over the keys. Your heart beating like butterfly wings in your throat.

"No. Not bad. Lost. Lonely. Sabishī."

Every moment of belief you handed him, pulled Hiromi closer to the light. Swallowing thickly, he brought your joined hands to the keys, laying his palm over the back of yours, overlaying your fingers with his own. He pressed, soft insistent touches, on your fingers, guiding them to play. You felt your belly coil with odd pleasure, captivated by Hiromi's hands, all at once gentle and rough, smart and instinctual--

"Hiromi--"

"No. Stop." Hiromi tensed, his voice rough, fraying alongside his self-control. His hand shook over your own, the notes stopping now. Heat burst through you, certain he felt it too, this dangerous need, and his name forced its way out of you again, a challenge.

"Hiro--"

Hiromi spat venom again, growling and cursing as he stood, lifting you by the waist, sitting you upon the keys with a spray of notes, his arms shaking as they pressed beside you, trapping you in. Nose to nose, his breath on your lips, his face twisted with fury and need, Hiromi whispered to you.

"Stop. My name--" Hiromi shook, on his last thread, half a step away from using you--

When your hand snaked to his tie, tugging him closer, your other hand sinking into the back of his hair, Hiromi snapped.

His lips pressed to yours, hot and hungry, his body closing the rest of the distance to be flush between your thighs. Your mouth opened to him, feeling his urgency as he drank down your stolen breath, one hand tilting your head back to consume you, the other dragging through the plush rolls of your belly and hips.

Every kiss was hot and anguished, punctuated by Hiromi's low rolling voice, not needing language to feel the fervour and vice on his lips-- "--won't be gentle-- I'm sorry I-- I can't--"

You insisted your understanding on him the only way you knew how; fingers working his tie off and draping it round your own neck, locking your legs around him to press his aching cock against your core, undoing his shirt in a desperate flurry, all notes and fingers and tongues and moans.

You tasted rum in his mouth, all spice and brown sugar, and his hand wandered to your throat, feeling your pulse there before tilting you backwards, arched against the hood of the piano. With your head rested back, he spoke to you, shirt now unbuttoned to his navel, cock straining against the material below a trail of black hair.

"--making a mistake to let a monster put his mouth on you, English-- let's see what sounds you can make." Your khaki t-shirt was pulled off over your head, where Hiromi let it catch around your hands, twisting it to bind you. Hiromi kept you gripped this way, leaning over you, caging you in as he gripped the cups of your bra between his teeth, yanking them down to free your breasts.

Hiromi shuddered and moaned, feeling a drop of pre-cum soak into his boxers, as he flattened his tongue over your nipple, rolling, tasting, pulling you between his lips, nuzzling from side to side like an animal. You mewled, jutting your hips involuntarily, and Hiromi pressed back, pleasuring you with rough, sharp thrusts against your clothed pussy.

Hiromi leaned back, releasing your nipple with a hard suck, gazing down at where he fucked himself against you, mesmerised by the way you shivered and humped against his cock. Unabashed, his words falling over you like strange-eyed constellations, Hiromi fucked you with his voice--

"--cum like this, and I'll give you my fingers...cum like that, and I'll give you my tongue-- fuck, I'll eat you alive, you fucking goddess--"

As Hiromi spoke, all twisted rage and growls, his hips slammed into you, spurred on by your squeaks and whimpers, gripping the fat of your hips to ram your core against him. The pleasure was brutal, all harsh fabric friction and Hiromi's unrestrained adoration, and you tried to hold yourself together as you were dragged to orgasm, your frantic hands pressing disjointed chords on the keys beneath you.

Hiromi wanted to, needed to cum like this, with you, knowing he'd be able to continue fucking you after until he collapsed in your arms from exhaustion. Pausing only briefly to reach into his boxers, and angle his angry, throbbing cock upwards so the bulbous tip pressed between his waistband and belly, Hiromi's eyes rolled back in unadulterated ecstasy as he continued to fuck you against him.

You were both close, having been unfinished even by yourselves for weeks, and Hiromi's eyes burned into yours, feral with the need for you to finish with him, feeling your thighs tense around him as you babbled, fully understanding your meaning behind the nonsense--

"--gonna cum-- please-- Hiromi-- harder--"

You pressed back against the piano, arching with a high-pitched cry as hot pleasure burst through you, from your deeply aching clit outwards, crackling through your fingers, all white-hot sparks and embers. Watching you convulse against him, angling his hips to rut his trapped cock tip, feeling his thighs and belly set alight with the force of his orgasm, his hands planted either side of you, back twitching as he came with a bark.

Still riding the last waves of your orgasm, you watched him in fascination. The sight of Hiromi's cum spurting in long, white ropes onto his navel and yours, his agonised, fractured gasps, had you humping against the underside of his cock again, dragging out your peak to hear him whimper, cock twitching against your core. Your hand drifted to his belly, stroking the cum between your fingertips in a blissful haze, squeezing a thumb under the foreskin of his exposed cockhead, stroking his slit with his own lubrication.

Hiromi convulsed and growled at you, clasping your hand against him, dopey and shaking as you drank his reaction from his eyes, thumb still circling his cockhead, slippery with his seed.

"St--st--aaaaahhh..." You shushed Hiromi's weak cries, grazing your tongue over his lips, delighted as he twitched in your hand, weak little spurts of cum oozing onto your fingers. Hiromi let you continue like this, for a few seconds, before wrenching your hand away, plaiting your fingers into his own and nuzzling into you furiously. His heart leapt to hear you giggle as he bit into you, still to desperate, everything still not enough to take away this pain and this filth and this misery--

His other hand wandered down, stroking down the rolls of your belly, pinching, nails grazing, digging in all the way to your belt, undoing it with military efficiency. Not bothering to undo the button, he yanked down the zip instead, giving him enough room to manoeuvre his hand between your skin and the fabric, shucking your underwear aside to cup the wet heat of your pussy in one long hand.

Dipping his hand out to collect the cum off your belly, he thrust his hand back inside against your pussy again, teeth gritted and bared as he drank down your reactions now. He was satisfied to see the playful glint in your eyes flicker, your eyebrows raised in shock and overstimulation, teeth sinking into your lip as he rubbed your clit roughly, cum-sticky fingers rubbing broad strokes side to side across it.

"--two can play at that game, sweetheart...feels good? More? Harder?" Hiromi pressed you, in these words you didn't understand, and laughed, darkly satisfied as you wiggled beneath his hands, one hand resting lightly on your throat as you tried in vain to scoot away from him, your breath releasing in airy whimpers.

"No answer?" Hiromi moved his fingers faster, harder, your pussy squelching with your mixed cum inside your trousers, feeling you writhe beneath them, "I'll decide for you then."

Hiromi urged your orgasm to build, faster and harder this time, teeth gritted as he dragged you to the edge, growling into you as his tongue flicked roughly over your nipple--

"--come on-- know you can do it-- I'll go as hard as you like, come on, good girl--ah, there-- good girrrrllll..." Hiromi softened his movements, fingers undulating against your pussy as he pulled another orgasm from you, moving one finger from your throat to dip into your mouth, shuddering as you sucked it around your cries and whimpers.

Hiromi felt his cock beginning to stir to life again, and he committed you to memory like this, draped over the piano, wet breasts heaving, his seed dripping down your belly, eyes glazed, body supple.

Another word, that he did know in English, slipped from him, as he dropped to his knees before you, worshiping at this otherworldly alter in the moonlight; "Beautiful."

You blushed, voice catching in your throat as Hiromi smiled up at you, soft and captive in his sincerity as he unbuttoned your trousers, easing them, with your underwear, gently to your ankles, and off. Feeling suddenly so exposed, so flawed, you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt Hiromi grip your ankle with such tenderness, pressing a long, languid kiss to the delicate bones on the inside.

"English," Hiromi called, beckoning you back to him. You shook your head, blushing, eyes still closed, and he insisted. "English, please--" your eyes opened, uncertain, and Hiromi hummed in satisfaction as he began to kiss his way up your inner legs, "--beautiful."

Sighing and leaning back, one arm over your eyes, your heart bursting with the oddity of having fallen in love like this, you felt safe behind your language barrier as you spoke without a filter; "Oh, Nose. I love you. I really do."

Hiromi paused, stunned and ecstatic, his lips still on your inner thigh. He shocked you both, at how quickly his grasp of your language had come along; "And I love you, English." Hiromi chuckled with genuine glee as you clapped your hands over your face, mortified. Hiromi nuzzled into you, wickedly playful, but soon overtaken by this violent urge again--

"And...I love--" you squealed as you felt Hiromi force your thighs apart, sinking his tongue and nose quickly between your folds, groaning as he tasted the heady mix of his and your cum around your clit. His cock, almost fully hard again, throbbed, tightening his waistband as the blood rushed to it again. Hiromi reached down, releasing his cock with a sigh.

He took his time, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he lapped at you, dipping his tongue into your entrance, tasting you, teasing you. You leaned, watching him again, and he looked up at you, hooded eyes burning as he nuzzled his nose against your clit, and held his own cock in his hand, stroking slowly. You felt jolts of voyeuristic pleasure, watching him masturbate himself to the taste of you.

"I...I like that," you whispered to him, your hand moving down to graze your nails against his scalp. You watched Hiromi like pornography as he shuddered, his cock leaping in his hand, your eyes fixed intently on his hand gliding up and down his length as you felt your pleasure beginning to crescendo yet again.

"More, I--" you moved your hand in the air as if you were the one stroking Hiromi's cock, mimicking faster movements, "--faster, Hiromi." Hiromi hummed in understanding, groaning sandy little groans into your pussy now as his hand sped up, jacking himself off harder, feeling your pussy clench around nothing beneath his tongue as you watched him, your keening cries getting higher and higher until--

-- you came again, trembling with the fluttering soft pleasure of your third orgasm, thighs clamping around Hiromi's head as he sucked your clit gently between his lips. Hiromi panted, gripping the base of his cock, delaying his high, fingers wet with more pre-cum, desperate to drag you to the floor and finish using you.

Pulling his mouth away, his hands trembling on your thighs, Hiromi's face was unreadable as he looked at the floor. Standing, dishevelled and sweating, looking up at you with feral hunger, his cock still twitching in his hand, you could see the barest vestiges of Hiromi pleading you for permission, with those exquisite dark eyes--

All it took from you was a nod. Hiromi pounced, wiry arms deceptively strong as he lifted you, legs locked around his waist, nose nuzzling against yours, teeth nipping your lips with a rumble. Hiromi whispered his mother tongue against your mouth, reaching out one hand for his overcoat, and tossing it into the floor, before laying you on your front, sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade with bruising force.

"--you're beautiful, and you're good, and I don't deserve you-- fuck, I need you now, I--I need--"

Hiromi panted above you, barely restraining himself from slamming into you immediately as he looped an arm round your neck and chest, pulling you up and forcing your back to arch. Ghosting his nose over your ear, he whispered your name, making you shiver and squirm, certain you'd break unless you felt him inside you soon.

"Ready, English?" You trembled, nodding, head tipped back as his cock grazed against your slippery folds. One hand cupped your arse, stroking softly, before slapping, Hiromi captivated by its plush jiggle against his fingers, how you cried out, how your skin flushed so deliciously.

Not holding back, Hiromi slammed into you, one forearm planted to the floor while the other restrained you against him, cupping your breasts in one squeezing hand. He shook, cursing, his teeth in your shoulder, as he felt the tip of his cock kiss your gummy walls, feeling your pussy clench around him in shock.

Prone, hands clawing at his overcoat, Hiromi felt enormous inside you, so swollen and plush after waiting to be filled for so long. You whimpered, resting your head sideways against his clutching bicep, feeling the muscle tense and jump as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, still speaking husky reassurances to you in his native tongue.

"--rest, just-- keep still and let me hold you, I-- I can't slow down anymore--"

Feeling simultaneously used and protected, caged in like this for him to chase his own pleasure, your breath came in ragged gasps, both hands now clutching the forearm across your neck and chest, head swimming with the instinctively blissful fullness of his cock, tightly sleeved within you. You felt your belly jolt from the force of Hiromi's thrusts, and pressed up towards him, proud to hear him moan in response.

Hiromi fucked you with abandon, needing this release, needing to shed his sin and worthlessness, his heart leaping to feel you fall apart beneath him. His hips began to stutter, strength abandoning him as his orgasm approached, moaning deep breaking moans in your ear, nipping, holding your neck in his teeth.

His legs buckling beneath him, Hiromi cried out in bliss, his arm shaking around you, hips flush against your arse, cock twitching long, hot spurts of cum inside your walls, feeling you pulse around him, sucking him in. You revelled in the glorious feeling of him twitching deep inside you, your belly hot and clenching as his seed seeped out between your clenched thighs. Hiromi lay above you, panting, pressing soft kisses into your hair, using his arm to roll you sideways with him, covering you both with his overcoat.

With his arm beneath your head, the other lazily stroking the curve of your waist and hips, Hiromi laughed lazily behind you.

"You love me, English, hmm?" Hiromi laughed again as you clapped your hands to your face.

"Stop, Hiromi, stop--" you cried, blushing all the way to your toes as he squeezed you closer, "-- or I will shoot you." Hiromi lifted his head, peering mulishly at you, one eyebrow raised. You scowled, pointing to your gun, and then at him, and he gasped in mock horror.

"Ara ara," he rumbled, teasing you in alien words, "so violent when you're meant to be happy."

You remembered these sweet small hours the most, after the horrors that came. You remembered lying in each others' arms, sticky and teasing. You remembered sneaking to the bathrooms, splashing each other at the sinks as you cleaned up as best as you could. You remembered laughing as Hiromi cursed, trying to clean the residual cum off your clothes. You remembered Hiromi calling for you, afraid, anxious, before you ducked back up from behind the bar, your arms full of snacks and drinks. You remembered lying beneath the piano, gazing out across the city, flicking peanuts at each other, sharing slow, lazy kisses. You remembered naively seeing a future between you, a happy life with none of this unthinkable chaos.

It was your fault, you cursed yourself, vomiting and wracked with sobs, staggering away from the devastation. If you had been able to develop your power, and pose a real threat, Hiromi wouldn't have been burdened with such a liability.

Lost in each other again, nose to nose beneath the piano, your instincts had kicked in just fast enough to kick Hiromi away, saving his life as the floor between you both split with dreadful electricity. A strange-haired, wild-eyed boy burst through the room on a voltage, bottles smashing, the floor splitting, your rifle disappearing into the chasm as Hiromi shouted for you, urging you, ordering you-- you were sure, to move, to run, to save yourself and leave him.

You could do none of them, your military training meaning nothing to this god. You could do nothing when Hiromi stepped into his path, defending you, fighting tooth and nail. You could do nothing as the floors split beneath him, dragging them down in lightning flashes, horrifying rumbles. You had fled from the collapse, leaping flights of stairs one at a time, possessed by some strange force. You had not felt Hiromi again. Powerful though he was, you could not see how he could walk out of such a fight alive.

Putting all the dregs of your energy into hiding, refusing to let Hiromi's sacrifice be in vain, you cried yourself to sleep, nose in Hiromi's overcoat, his cum still cooling between your thighs.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Each day merged into the next. Time had lost meaning. While you had the urge to fight before loving Hiromi, to have loved and lost him broke you and the future you may have had. The battleground was no place for someone such as yourself now. You cursed the injustice of it all.

Cold, dirty and exhausted, your head rested sideways against an industrial bin, praying the rain would wipe your soul clean.

You had translated his business card, with your little dictionary--

Lawyer. Higuruma Hiromi, Criminal Defence Lawyer.

Knowing this detail of his life, a sweet overlay of understanding dawned upon you, his character suddenly so understandable, his anguish shooting through you like knives, and all too late, too late--

"...English?"

Your head jerked up, to the end of the alleyway. Silhouetted, dripping in the rain, bleeding and bruised but impossibly alive--

Your face crumpled, pressed into your wet sleeves, shaking. Slow splashing footsteps approached you, Hiromi kneeling in front of you, a hand coming out to graze through your hair.

He opened your dictionary, dusty and bloodstained, before flicking to a dog-eared page;

"Found you."

#jjk #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma angst #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi smut #higuruma #higuruma x reader #higuruma fanart

663 notes · View notes

afrenchaugurey · 3 months

Text

Hi!

I realize I forgot to post here but I posted chapter 4 of my New Year's fic.

Summary : After a complicated moment, Newt finally mixes with the New Year party.

And the introduction scene

In the centre of the room, a large table sagged under the profusion of drinks, food and cutlery. Soft music came from nowhere, and would have bathed the area with a tender lullaby if it hadn’t been covered by all the other voices and noises. The chanting soapy bubbles had disappeared when Adeline had sat at the table, Evie replacing them by hovering oranges, pinecones and cinnamon sticks –mirrors of the tree’s decorations– that filled their noses with forest smells.

Evie had probably circled the dining space with Fencing Charms , as the dog and the puffskeins herd remained far from the food. The pre-dinner mini-sandwiches trays and drinks replenished automatically as soon as they emptied, offering enough provisions for a whole army.

“Snidget, you’re back! Come, and have a firewhisky!”

Theseus’s face had turned crimson, and Newt didn’t want to know how many glasses he had drunk already. Apparition or flight wouldn’t be an option to come back home for his brother that night; Newt would have to make sure of it.

“Snidget?” asked a woman Newt didn’t recognize, but whose cheeks gleamed as red as Theseus’s.

Her hair was like the plants frozen over the lake, a dark brown surrounded by white, and something in her gaze –traces of a complicated and heavy past, courage, and empowerment– reminded him of Tina.

“That was Newton’s nickname as a child, Sunshine,” Titania whispered in the other witch’s ear, before she wove their fingers and kissed her knuckles.

The woman’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at Newt who intensely looked at the ground.

“Of course! Snidget ! Newt Scamander! How could I have forgotten this!” she exclaimed, “I’m Poppy Sweeting.

Thank you for reading !

#fantastic beasts #newt scamander #tina goldstein #newtina #fantastic beasts and where to find them #autistic newt scamander #fan fiction #fantastic beasts fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #theseus scamander #poppy sweeting #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #slice of life #fic : Weaves a bower in endless night

14 notes · View notes

adamwatchesmovies · 2 years

Text

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

With the solid foundation established by The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, this sequel flourishes. I didn't expect The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian to be as good as first but the characters are richer, the action more intense, and the plot darker. It's just as - maybe even more - engaging than its predecessor.

It’s been a year since Peter (William Moseley), Susan (Anna Popplewell), Edmund (Skandar Keynes), and Lucy (Georgie Henley) left Narnia for their home of England. When the young Prince Caspian (Ben Barnes), calls for them in a desperate moment, they are summoned back to the magical realm, only to find that over 1,200 have passed.

What I like best about Prince Caspian is the way it follows up on the previous story. When we see the Pevensie children in London, they’re bored out of their skulls, wishing they could return to the fantastic world where they grew to adulthood and ruled benevolently over wild creatures and mythical beasts. When they return, they’re as excited as you are. What has Mr. Tumnus been up to? Has Aslan returned as well? What about… wait, what’s this? Armored men in Narnia? The former residents of a noble kingdom forced to live in a shrinking wilderness? Talk about a crisis! You can’t wait to see Peter and his siblings assemble an army and kick those interlopers outta there.

The stage is set and now we fill it with great characters. While Caspian’s scheming uncle Miraz (Sergio Castellitto) is what he is, everyone else has rich character arcs. Most notably, there’s a rivalry between Peter and Caspian that's both satisfying and logical considering they’re both monarchs from wildly different worlds. The action scenes are rousing because they demand the Narnians overcome their opponents via strategic planning. It all leads to an unexpected mano-y-mano fight that isn’t like the ones we’ve seen before. Both combatants have an advantage and are on relatively even ground. The thing that’ll determine who wins and loses is which one underestimates the other.

Prince Caspian benefits from better special effects than its predecessor. The performances are better - to be fair, the actors have had 3 years to hone their skills. The climax contains everything thrilling about Aslan and his allies’ battle with the White Witch and her minions, and then amps it up by giving us a nail-biting one-on-one battle between Peter and Miraz. The new characters introduced are a joy to watch and, as a sequel, it delivers everything you want to see. I might even like it more than the first – which isn’t a slam against The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, it’s a compliment for how big of a pleasant surprise this film turned out to be. Next up is Voyage of the Dawn Treader and I’m excited to see what it has in store. (On Blu-ray, August 25, 2017)

#The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian #Chronicles of Narnia #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Andrew Adamson #Christopher Markus #Stephen McFeely #C. S. Lewis #Georgie Henley #Skandar Keynes #William Moseley #Anna Popplewell #Ben Barnes #2008 movies #2008 films

3 notes · View notes

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 10 months

Text

Bellona’s videos masterlist - movies - part 1 (The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit...)

The Lord of the Rings

Boromir and Aragorn meet in Rivendell

The Council of Elrond

Arrival at Lothlorien

The Three Hunters meet Eomer and the Rohirrim

Charge of the Rohirrim

*****

The Hobbit

Gandalf meets Thorin at The Prancing Pony

*****

Push

Opening narration by Cassie Holmes

*****

Taking Lives

“You have something that I want. Therefore, it’s mine”

*****

A Knight’s Tale

William finds his father

Introducing Paul Bettany as Geoffrey Chaucer

*****

Knives Out

Ransom confesses killing Fran and attempts to murder Marta

*****

The Breakfast Club

Dancing scene

*****

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me

Dale Cooper talks to Sam Stanley

First meeting of agent Desmond and agent Stanley.

Agent Desmond and agent Stanley talk to Irene

Agent Desmond and Agent Stanley examine the body of Theresa Banks

*****

Van Helsing

The Holy Order

*****

Bordello of Blood

Corey Feldman as Caleb Verdoux

*****

Mad Max: Fury Road

Meeting the Vuvalini

*****

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Jacob meets Nicolas Flamel

*****

The Old Guard

Andy learns an important lesson

“Her name was Quynh”

*****

The Crow

Initial narration by Sarah

Darla is cured by Eric and begins to rebuild her relationship with Sarah.

*****

Kill Bill

Black Mamba (The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo) vs. Gogo Yubari

*****

Stand by Me

Chris’ gun and Dennis’ cap

Gordie confronts Ace

*****

The Mummy

“I… am a librarian!”

*****

Dragonheart

Draco heals Prince Einon

Bowen names Draco and Dragons’ Heaven

Bowen meets the spirit of King Arthur

*****

Kickboxer: Vengeance

Kurt trains with master Durand - part one

Kurt trains with master Durand - part two

*****

Lady Bloodfight

The first round of the Kumite - part one of four

The second round of the Kumite - part two

Jane vs Svietta - part three

The final of the Kumite - part four

*****

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Lucy meets Tumnus

Meeting Aslan

The coronation of the Kings and Queens of Narnia

*****

St. Trinian’s

Annabelle arrives at the school and meets the various cliques

*****

The Three Musketeers

“Three duels in one day…”

*****

Dream a Little Dream

Bobby asks Lainie out

*****

Aquaman

“Are you that fish boy from the TV?”

The story of Tom and Atlanna - part one

The story of Tom and Atlanna - part two

*****

Night at the Museum

Larry releases Ahkmenrah

*****

Footloose

Ren teaches Willard to dance

Ren anger-dancing to Moving Pictures’s Never

The tractor chicken race

*****

The Warriors

The Warriors & the other gangs

Swan and Mercy’s conversation on the tracks

The Warriors vs. The Punks

*****

Eagle vs Shark

Lily and Jarrod

*****

Flatliners

Nelson convinces David to help him

David Labraccio apologizes to Winnie Hicks for having bullied her when they were kids

*****

Renegades

Buster and Hawk learn to work together

*****

Maleficent

Diaval is transformed into a man

*****

Hellboy: The Golden Army

Prologue

Hellboy and Liz meet the Angel of Death

*****

Fight Club

The rules

*****

The Green Knight

The Green Knight issues his challenge

Gawain meets Winifred

*****

Brotherhood of the Wolf

Mani fighting

*****

Gunpowder Milkshake

Sam meets the Librarians

*****

The Village

Lucius and Ivy on the porch

*****

The Kid Who Would Be King

Prologue

Merlin’s debut

Merlin talks to Alex and Bedders

*****

Seven Sisters / What Happened to Monday

Adetomiwa “Tomiwa” Edun as Eddie the doorman

*****

Young Guns

William Bonney arrives at Tunstall’s ranch

Dinner and reading at Tunstall’s

*****

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword

Prologue

Arthur grows up in the brothel

Arthur pulls the sword from the stone

Jack’s Eye visits Arthur

*****

The Last Witch Hunter

Kaulder speaks to Bronwyn

*****

Priest

Prologue

*****

6 Underground

“We find a Seven.”

Ben Hardy as Four/Billy

Ben Hardy as Four/Billy (II)

Manuel Garcia Rulfo as Three/Javier

*****

The 13th Warrior

“The thirteenth man must be no Northman.”

*****

Logan Lucky

Jimmy defends Clyde when a bar patron bullies him

*****

Legion

Michael talks to Jeep and to Gabriel

*****

Rebel Moon – Part One: A Child of Fire

Tarak tames the bennu

*****

DOA: Dead or Alive

Tina Armstrong is invited to the DOA

Christie Allen is invited to the DOA

Princess Kasumi is invited to the DOA

*****

Bellona's masterlist

1 note · View note

linewire · 1 year

Note

i want to get into some new media since i feel like my hyperfix might fade, is there anything you recommend? (books, shows, whatever!!)

Hello anon,

Honestly I’m not sure if I’m the best person you should be asking about this lmao. I tend to like a lot of popular media ie star wars, star trek, bond movies, etc so idk how to recommend something that’s already popular?

Ig here’s my list if u wanna try getting into some new stuff, take this all with a grain of salt cause i usually become a fan of something for mainly the ships.

Action:

The Old Guard: okay so if you like action stuff and good characters, this is probably a good start. The movie is on the surface a typical action movie but i think the characters are more of the actual focus. It’s basically a found family of immortals with a canon queer couple, a very explicit canon queer couple, and relationships born out of thousands of years of cohabitation. There’s a lot of good fanfics and the sequel is coming out next year i believe. U can find this on netflix.

The man from uncle movie: this is a bit harder to recommend because of Armie Hammer but if you look past that, the movie is really fun with (again) a found family of an american spy, a russian spy, and a german car mechanic. There’s fake dating, banter, and good ol dumb spy shenanigans. This was on netflix for a bit but u prolly have to pirate it now.

Bond movies (specifically the Craig movies): this is the HARDEST to recommend because u have to ignore so many dubious things like the fact that only one or two of the movies are actually good (Casino Royale is the best one, Skyfall was okay because it introduced Q). Like I said, I only got into this because of the ship between Bond and Q. The fics are great (Ulysses and Redamancy are my recs) but the fandom is mostly dead (there was a bit of a resurgence with No Time to Die but eh). You gotta pirate these i think.

Sci Fi:

Star Wars (just the original trilogy and the Mandalorian tv show): yeah it’s corny and stupid but it’s just the right amount of corny and stupid. If you look past that, the ship between the Mandalorian and Luke Skywalker was my shit right before mcyt so I have a lot of fond memories of it. There’s just something about two damaged people learning how to open up and coparent a green baby that just gets me. Don’t watch this on Disney plus, pirate it.

Star Trek (the Abrams movies with Pine and Quinto): I’ve only watched the Abrams movies and a but of Next Gen so I can’t really say which of the many series are worth watching but the movies definitely are. Spock and Kirk are the og ship so they have the most content out of all my recs. Once again, ANOTHER found family dynamic between the main characters. It’s basically like, what if you put a group of the most competent people together who somehow lose all braincells (except Spock) when they’re next to each other, into a spaceship and tell them to go fuck around and find out. Pirate these.

Fantasy:

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (hear me out): first of all fuck Joanne Rowling. Pirate this movie, don’t give that racist terf another dime. Don’t watch anything beyond the first movie (i’m not exaggerating when i say this is the only good movie) in this horrible series. The aspect of this series that i like is nonexistent in the other movies, which is the “relationship” between Newt and the original Percival Graves. The fandom basically pose the questions, “What if Newt and Graves knew each other before the events of the first movie?” and “What if Newt found Graves after the first movie?” and i eat that shit up. Personally, I think that aspect is a total product of the fandom, just using JK’s world and blueprint as a foundation so I see them as completely separate entities. The fandom is dead (though I am writing a fic for it despite that) because the movie came out in 2016 but there’s enough fan content that I still stick around.

Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo: so these books are a part of a bigger universe called the Grishaverse but I read them before I read the original Grisha trilogy and I understood them just fine. It’s a heist story set in a rich fantasy world with compelling characters and great writing. It’s really easy to get into it and immerse yourself in this expansive world and relate to the characters.

#anon ask

1 note · View note

tenaciousgeckos · 2 years

Text

This is how it should have gone:

#harry potter #neville longbottom #fenrir greyback #hp #fbawtft #how it should have gone #you know who #voldemort #you and who's army? fantastic beasts and where to find them #hermione granger #ronald weasley #fred and george #newt scamander #tom riddle #and the deathly hallows #movies #7

131 notes · View notes

dycefic · 3 years

Text

The Three Warriors Of Renown

I’m sorry about the long absence - my chronic health issues flared up badly, and other things piled on top of that. Chronic pain is a real creativity-killer, and not being able to sit at a computer for more than 20 minutes doesn’t help either.

This story is a result of going to see Shang Chi, which is a fantastic movie and a beautiful paean to momentum - physical, emotional, literary and narrative. Poetry in motion is a phrase often used, but never more richly deserved. It also reminded me of a very old trope that I haven't addressed - the Secret Sanctuary, where the Ancient Way is taught or the Ancient Artifact is guarded or the Doorway To The Dead Realms lies or whatever. It's always hidden, usually in the mountains. (Hogwarts qualifies as a subversion of this trope)

So... what if the person who showed up was looking for something else entirely, or was, at least, open to reason?

There were once three great warriors, and no one who stood against them ever defeated them. They rose to lead a great army, and at last that army reached the sea, and there was nothing left for them to conquer.

The first looked back at the land they had conquered, and said “This is enough. I desire no more.”

The second looked at the trees that grew near the beach, and said “I will not stop here. I will build a great boat, and find new lands.”

But the third warrior looked at both the sea and the land, and then turned away. “I am weary of fighting,” she said. “I will go another way.” And she walked away, down the beach, and did not heed their calls after her.

She walked, following the water’s edge. The sea led her to an inlet, the inlet to a river, the river to a stream, and at last she found herself in a place she did not know, which she and her comrades had never conquered. It was a peaceful valley, lush and green, and the people who lived there came out to meet her.

“What is this place?” she asked them.

“This is the Valley of Flowers,” they told her. “Few find their way here, for it is a secret place. What were you seeking, that you came here?”

“I sought something new,” she said, looking around her with interest. “I was weary of fighting, and wished to do something else. What do you do here?”

“We farm,” they told her.

So for three years, she joined in the toil of farming, from planting to tending to harvest. She herded beasts, and fed them, and was at peace.

At the end of the three years, she went to the head of the village, who was very old and wise, and said “I am not a farmer. This is not the right work for me. What else do you do here?”

“We make,” the village head told her. “Try making.”

So for seven years she made. She learned to spin, and weave, and sew. She learned to tan leather and make shoes and other things from it. She learned to craft wood, and clay, and metal. She built, and mended, and shaped.

At the end of the seven years, she went to the head of the village again. “I have learned all the crafts of making that are practiced in this valley,” she said. “I am not very good at any of them. They are not what I am looking for. What else do you do in this valley?”

The head of the village sat and looked at her for a long time, and the warrior sat and looked back, without anger or impatience. At last he nodded slowly. “It is not a thing we would ever speak of to an outsider, in the way of things,” he said slowly, “but you have lived among us for ten years in peace, and have never once spoken falsely that we know of. So I will ask you, do you desire wealth?”

She shrugged. “I had wealth. The wealth of a hundred conquered kingdoms. I could not carry it, and did not need it. I left it behind willingly."

He nodded. “Do you desire power?”

She shrugged again. “I had power. I conquered all of the land that we could find. It was a great deal of trouble. I left it behind willingly.”

He nodded again. “Do you desire knowledge?”

She thought about that for a moment. “The only knowledge I desire is that I came here seeking,” she said slowly. “I want to know what is the right trade for me. My greatest skill is in fighting, but I no longer wish to be a warrior. I have tried farming, and making, and ruling, but they are not the right trades for me. I desire rest, and contentment, in my right place in the world, and that knowledge is all that I desire.”

“In that,” the head of the village said, “I may be able to assist you.”

And the head of the village led the warrior up the valley, to a cave. Inside the cave there was a great door, and bars of wood and of copper and of iron had been set across it. “Behind this door,” the head of the village told the warrior, “there is an artifact of great power, and great destruction. Our ancestors sealed it away, and ever since we have guarded it against any who would seek it. Will you guard it, great warrior, and protect the world from its danger?”

“Yes,” the warrior said, and for the first time in ten years, she drew the great axe that she carried on her back. “I will.”

Many years later, a great king found his way into that hidden valley, searching for an artifact rumoured to grant power and immortality to any who wielded it. He came with soldiers and sorcerers, though he did not attack at first. Instead, he approached the village. “I have come for the treasure,” he said. “That which grants power and immortality.”

“Soldiers and sorcerers cannot aid you in this,” the head of the village told him. “You must go to the guardian alone.”

So the king went alone up into the mountains at the head of the valley, and entered the cave, where the guardian sat with her axe across her knees. And to his surprise, though not to hers, they knew each other.

The warrior who stayed and became a king looked upon the warrior who had walked away. “So this is where you went,” he said slowly. “You guard the artifact now?”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “And you want it?”

“It will give me power and longevity. Power to protect the great land that I rule.”

“It is a force for destruction,” the one who walked away said. “If it is unleashed, it will destroy the kingdom you have ruled.”

“I can control it,” the king said, but there was doubt in his voice. Before him stood one of his oldest friends, one he had never raised his sword against. To turn on her would be a hard thing. And even if he did, there had only ever been two warriors who were his equal, and one stood before him. He did not know if he could defeat her.

“You cannot.” She rose from her seat, and went to him, and laid her hand on his shoulder. “My friend, why do you desire this thing? You have been a great warrior, and a great king. Why seek more?”

He looked at her, at the silver in her hair, and the lines on her face. “Because I have grown old,” he said, “as you have. And soon I will not be able to protect my lands and my people.”

“They are not your lands, or your people. You conquered them, and ruled them by might. Now they must be returned to themselves.”

“But I have protected them. It is true we fought once, but it has been so long since then. I have been a good king. Who will protect them, when I am gone?”

The warrior who turned away smiled at him. “You will,” she said gently. “And I will. And we will protect them by keeping this gate shut, so that no power greater than that of sword and axe may do them harm.”

The king was not persuaded at once, but spoke with his friend long into the night. And when dawn came, he went down to his soldiers and his sorcerers, and told them that he would no longer be their king. He charged them each to return to their own lands, and to keep the peace that his empire had created. And the great king, who had been a great warrior, never again left that valley.

Many, many years later, when the three warriors and their empire had become legend, a lone woman entered the valley. She was robed in silk, and her eyes held the light of strange stars. She did not speak to the villagers, and when they tried to stop her, she sent them into sleep with a word.

She entered the cave, and there she was surprised. The ancient scrolls she had followed spoke of a great door, and a great door there was. They spoke of ancient sigils of warding, and sigils there were. They warned of great bars of wood, of copper, and of iron, and those bars blocked the door.

But no scroll had spoken of two statues flanking the gates, one holding an axe across its knees, the other a sword. She walked towards them, frowning. And when she approached, each statue opened its eyes, and dust fell from them, and they looked at her. And they knew her, and she knew them.

Legends have great power, and not one of the three had been known to die. Two had left, when their fighting was over, and been seen no more, and the third had renounced his throne and departed from the knowledge of men before more than half his hair had turned silver. And so, more than a hundred years later, they stood undying, in a cave, and looked upon one another.

“I thought you had died,” said the one who had sailed across the sea.

“We thought the same,” said the one who walked away.

“And now you stand in my way.”

“Yes.” The one who had been a king laid his hands on his sword-hilt. “What is contained behind this gate should never be released.”

“Why not?” The one who had sailed across the sea frowned. “The three of us once conquered a land from sea to sea.”

“Yes,” said the one who walked away. “And when I saw that all I had won, with all that bloodshed, was another sea the twin of the one I had left, I walked away and fought no more.”

“Yes,” said the one who stayed. “And when the two of you left, I remained, and the empire that we began in blood became a peaceful land, and its people thrived. I, also, came seeking this thing, because I wished to protect my people. Our friend convinced me that it would only destroy what I had built.”

“And if I desire destruction?”

“Then we will prevent you.”

The one who had walked away laid a hand on the shoulder of the one who had crossed the sea. “Once, when we were young and cruel, we conquered a land from sea to sea. My friend, who was once as a sister to me, do not now do worse than what we did then. Let us do no more harm, save in defence of those who live in the lands we conquered.”

The king had been persuaded in one night. This time, they spoke for three days and three nights.

When the next seeker after power came, centuries later, three guardians sat in the cave, sleeping until need called them to wakefulness.

That seeker was not a friend, and could not be reasoned with.

But the three had not grown weaker, and nor had their legends. And the gate was not opened.

That gate was never opened.

#new fairy tales #three warriors #the one who went back #the one who went on #and the one who went her own way #I love the narrative weight of threes

2K notes · View notes

missyflufffics · 3 years

Text

Harry Potter Universe Recommendation List

Last Updated: 12/21/2020

Marauders Era

James Potter

One Shots:

The best prankster by @deathlyhogwarts Summary: When a lowkey Gryffindor who values her education is disrupted during class by a roudy group of boys she decides to retilate, and she is determined to win.

Falling For You by @theweasleysredhair Summary: Soulmate AU. After suffering thorugh the pain of your soulmate, whom was not particulary careful about injuries, their identity is revealed during a Quidditch game.

What’s Happening To Me by @harrytpotter Summary: James Potter was starting to feel more and more overprotective towards his friend Y/N and considerably annoyed at the blatant flirting she and one of his best friends were displaying publicly and at the thought she might be falling for Sirius. What was happening to him?

Sirius Black

One Shots:

Drooling like a dog by @deathlyhogwarts Summary: Dogs are great pets, and it´s annoying how all kind of pets are allowed at school but dogs. So when you realize a group of friends frequents one you can´t help but shower it with affection.

Cardigan by @gcdric Summary: You love everything Sirius’s family hates about him.

Remus Lupin

One Shots:

Scared by @thoseofgreatambition Summary: y/n’s mother has left their family, and because of this the reader is quite scared to form romantic relationships. Remus does his best to build her strength and trust up. in doing so they fall in love.

Peter Pettigrew

Lily Evans

Regulous Black

One Shots:

Mon Soleil by @poppin-potter Summary: Lupin!reader; no-Voldemort AU. Regulus Black helps you with your lycanthropy symptoms

Narcissa Black

Golden Trio Era

Harry Potter

One Shots:

One step from happiness by @weasleydream Summary: After the war is over, there is one person he needs to see, a muggle that made Privet Drive seem less gloomy.

Dumbledore’s army by @poppin-potter Summary: Lupin!reader. When you help your boyfriend, Harry Potter, you start to notice a few things in his teaching style.

The Girl I Once Knew by @lunalovegxxd Summary: Malfoy!reader. When you receive the Dark Mark the best you can do to keep those you love safe is to play perfect pureblood daughter, sadly, that includes making Harry hate you so he’ll stay away.

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

One Shots:

Coffee Shop by @lunalovegxxd Summary: Coffee shop AU; Soulmates AU. In which you meet your soulmate in a coffee shop.

Only For You by @iliveiloveiwrite Summary: Ron Weasley is a family guy and a sap.

Draco Malfoy

One Shots:

Sneaking out and Shooting Stars by @stupxfy Summary: Draco wakes you up in the middle of the night to go watch the meteor shower

two sworn enemies Part 2 by @wondernimbus Summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

A Beautiful Dream by @angelinathebook Summary: You meet up with Draco during the night and discover the boy buried underneath the pain.

Play Dumb by @willowbleedsonpaper Summary: Ravenclaw!reader. One day visiting your friend Myrtle, you found that she already had company. Learning some things you shouldn’t about Draco Malfoy you become really nervous around him and see yourself in the need to face him.

Carrot Cake by @willowbleedsonpaper Summary: Soulmate AU. You decide to put your own café after the war and you find yourself with some unexpected clients.

Seamus Finnigan

Dean Thomas

Fred Weasley

One Shots:

The Smell Of Love by @leahstypewriter Summary: You remain unranked by the Weasley twins catching one of the readhead’s attention.

Act Like a Gryffindor by @hp-imagines-07 Summary: Gryffindor!reader. The 4 times that Fred Weasley made you blush and the one time that it was the other way around…

Nervous by @hufflepuffgirly Summary: Fred’s nervous about meeting your family, but he really has nothing to worry about.

Blue by @hufflepuffgirly Prompts: “You’re so agitated, what’s wrong?” “You know exactly what’s wrong.”; “Come here.”; “Your hair smells nice.”

Surprises by @acciotwinz Summary: All the times Fred never manages to catch Y/N off guard and the one time he does.

George Weasley

One Shots:

Lifelines by @diary-of-an-onliner Summary: Gryffindor!reader. Your happy line responds to George as you flirt incessantly.

Gryffindor bravery by @heloisedaphnebrightmore Summary: Your shy and quite personality never matched the infamous bravery of Gryffindor. However the little bet George initiates might just help you find your inner Gryffindor, the bravery you have been looking for.

5th December by @george-fabian-weasley Summary: You read him a poem as he laid on your chest, loving the sound of your voice.

Ginny Weasley

Neville Longbottom

One Shots:

Childhood crush by @angelinathebook Summary: professor!Neville x professor!reader. You lost contact with your best friend after the war but neither is planning on passing up your chance when you find yourselves back in the castle you grew up in.

Oliver Wood

One Shots:

Little brother by @poppin-potter Summary: Hufflepuff!reader. Your boyfriend comes to meet your family and everything seems to be going swell, except for the fact that your little brother doesn’t seems to like him much.

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Theodore Nott

One Shots:

Terrible Tuesdays by @gcdric Summary: You get paired up with Theo in potions who defies all your preconceived notions on what a Slytherin is. Needless to say, Theodore Nott was not at all what you were expecting.

Lonely Heart by @willowbleedsonpaper Summary: After years of frienship you realize that although you might not be alone you’re lonely. You’re not part of the Golden Trio and they don’t seem to care when you drift away from them. You learn to be by yourself when certain Slytherin enters your life and change it for the better.

They don’t know about us by @willowbleedsonpaper Summary: Hufflepuff!reader. You are open and unapologetic about your relationship, even with its particular critics.

Blaise Zabini

One Shots:

Chess is for chumps by @peeves-a-legend Summary: Chess is all about sophistication and strategy; everything that Blaise prides himself on. Monopoly is about frugality and… also strategy?

Cedric Diggory

One Shots:

Ceasseless Interruptions by @imaginexmeintheuniverse Summary: Five times you almost kissed + when you finally did

4 AM by @random-imagines-blog Summary: You’re a transfer student at Hogwarts, and all of these changes are feeling restless. You develop a late-night hobby, but a handsome Hufflepuff catches on.

Yule Ball from the Sidelines by @imaginexmeintheuniverse Summary: In your attempt to avoid the elephant in the room you tell your best friend to go with someone else to the ball, and he does. Don’t worry, he has saved a dance just for you.

Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them

Newt Scamander

One Shots:

The Dress by @poppin-potter Summary: platonic!reader. You and your best friend, Newt Scamander, try to find the perfect dress for your wedding.

Theseus Scamander

One Shots:

Care For a Treat? by @poppin-potter Summary: Theseus never cared for sweets until his little brother’s best friend walked into his life.

Tina Goldenstein

Jacob Kowalski

Queenie Goldenstein

4K notes · View notes

themousefromfantasyland · 3 years

Text

How the Tooth Fairy Became a Guardian

Extracted from Toothiana, Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies, third book in the Guardians of Childhood series by William Joyce.

In this series, which served as inspiration for the DreamWorks' Rise of the Guardians, William Joyce managed to create one of the craziest and most epic origin stories for the Tooth Fairy. If I'm not mistaken, in one interview, he himself admitted how crazy it was, and how it was inspired by jungle movies he watched as a kid.

The bookworm bowed and told them, “The story of the Queen of Toothiana lies in volume six of Curious Unexplainables of the East.”

“Of course! I should have remembered that myself,” Ombric said, nodding. “Mr. Qwerty, please enlighten us.” (Ombric, the Wizard,and Qwerty, the literal bookworm, are characters that only appeared in the books)

The Guardians sat around the table while Mr. Qwerty began his tale.

“To know the story of Queen Toothiana,” he said, “you must first hear the tale of the maharaja, his slave Haroom, and the Sisters of Flight.”

“Sisters of Flight?” North interrupted.

“Sisters of Flight,” Mr. Qwerty repeated patiently. The image of a beautiful winged woman appeared on one of Mr. Qwerty’s pages. She was human-size, with long, willowy arms and legs and a heart-shaped face. But her wings were magnificent, and she held a bow and arrow of extraordinary design.

The Sisters of Flight were an immortal race of winged women who ruled the city of Punjam Hy Loo, which sits atop the steepest mountain in the mysterious lands of the Farthest East. An army of noble elephants stood guard at the base of the mountain. No humans were allowed to enter, for the mountain’s jungle was a haven for the beasts of the wild—a place where they could be safe from men and their foolishness.

Toothiana’s father was a human by the name of Haroom. He had been sold at birth into slavery as a companion for a young Indian maharaja. Despite being slave and master, the maharaja and Haroom became great friends. But the maharaja was a silly, vain boy who had his every wish and whim granted. Yet this did not make him happy, for he always wanted more.

Haroom, Toothiana's father

Haroom, who had nothing, wanted nothing and so was very content. Secretly, the maharaja admired his friend for this. For his part, Haroom admired the maharaja for knowing what he wanted—and getting it.

The maharaja loved to hunt and slay all the animals of the wild, and Haroom, who never tired of watching the powerful elegance of wild creatures such as tigers and snow leopards, was an excellent tracker. But he hated to see the animals killed, so when that moment came, he always looked away. As a slave, he could do nothing to stop his master. And so, with Haroom tracking, the maharaja killed one of every beast in his kingdom, lining the palace walls with their heads as trophies. But the one animal the maharaja coveted most continued to elude him.

In the mountain land ruled by the Sisters of Flight, there dwelled one creature that no slave, man, or ruler had ever seen: the flying elephant of Punjam Hy Loo.

The maharaja was determined to do anything to have one for his collection, but every time he tried to force his way up the mountain, the elephant army at its base turned him back. He realized that he must find another way to reach Punjam Hy Loo.

In those ancient times no man had yet discovered the mystery of flight. But after demanding advice from his wizards and soothsayers, the maharaja learned a secret: Children can fly when they dream, and when the Moon shines brightly, their dreams can become so vivid that some of them come true. Sometimes the children remember, but mostly they do not. That is why children sometimes wake up in their parents’ beds without knowing how they got there—they flew!

The wizards told the maharaja a second secret.” At this, Mr. Qwerty lowered his voice, and all the Guardians leaned closer. “The memory of everything that happens to a child is stored in that child’s baby teeth.

And so the maharaja’s wizards gave him an idea: fashion a craft of the lost teeth of children and command it to remember how to fly. The maharaja sent out a decree throughout his kingdom, stating that whenever a child lost a tooth, it must be brought to his palace. His subjects happily complied, and it was not long before he had assembled a craft unlike any other the world had ever known.

Meanwhile, the maharaja ordered Haroom to make an archer’s bow of purest gold and one single ruby-tipped arrow. When the weapon was finished, the maharaja ordered Haroom to join him aboard the craft. Then he said these magic words:

‘Remember,

remember,

the moonlit flights

of magic nights.’

And just as the royal wizards had promised, the craft flew silently through the sky, over the jungle, and past the elephants who guarded Punjam Hy Loo.

They descended from the clouds and flew into the still-sleeping city. In the misty light of dawn, the maharaja could hardly tell where the jungle ended and the city began. But Haroom, used to seeking out tracks, spotted some he had never seen before—tracks that could only belong to the flying elephant, for although they looked similar to a normal elephant’s, his keen eye saw one addition: an extra digit pointing backward, like that of a bird.

It did not take long to find the flying elephant, sleeping in a nest in the low-lying limbs of an enormous jujube tree. The maharaja raised the golden bow and took careful aim. The tip of the ruby arrow glittered in the first rays of morning sunlight. Haroom looked away.

Suddenly, there came an intense, cacophonous alarm, as if every creature of Punjam Hy Loo knew of the maharaja’s murderous intent. Charging down from the towers above came the Sisters of Flight, wings outstretched, with all manner of weapons at the ready—gleaming swords, razor-sharp daggers, fantastical flying spears with wings of their own. It was a sight so beautiful, so terrifying that Haroom and the maharaja froze.

Then the maharaja raised his bow again, this time aiming it at the Sisters of Flight. ‘Look, Haroom, an even greater prize,’ he exclaimed.

In that single moment Haroom’s whole life changed. He knew, for the very first time, what he wanted. He could not bear to see a Sister of Flight harmed. He ordered the maharaja to stop.

The maharaja paid his servant no heed. He let loose the arrow. Haroom blocked it. Its ruby tip pierced his chest, and he crumbled to the ground.

The maharaja stared in shock, then kneeled beside his fallen friend. Weeping, he tried to stop the flow of blood but could not. Haroom was dying.

The Sisters of Flight landed around them. The most beautiful of the sisters, the one the maharaja had meant to kill, approached them. ‘We did not know that any man could be so selfless,’ she said. Her sisters nodded.

With one hand, she grabbed the arrow and plucked it from Haroom’s chest, then kissed her fingertips and gently touched his wound.

Haroom stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. All he could see was the face of the Sister of Flight. And all she could see was the brave and noble Haroom.

He was a slave no more.

She took his hand, and in that instant her wings vanished.

The other sisters lunged toward the maharaja in fury. They raised their swords, and Haroom could see they meant to kill his former master. ‘He will no longer harm you,’ he said. ‘Please, let him go—send him on his way.’

The sisters looked from one to the other, then agreed. But they declared that the maharaja must leave all he brought with him. The golden bow, the ruby-tipped arrow, the flying craft of teeth, and Haroom, his only friend.

‘And one thing more. You must also leave your vanity and cruelty behind so that we can know and understand them.’

The maharaja was heartbroken but agreed.

The flying elephant glided down from his nest, and with his trunk, he touched the maharaja’s forehead, and all the vanity and cruelty went from him.

But once these things were gone, there was little left—the maharaja was as simple as a baby monkey. In fact, he even sprouted a tail and scampered away speaking gibberish, shrinking to the size of an infant.

His vanity and cruelty would never be forgotten—the flying elephant had them now, and an elephant never forgets. As for Haroom and the beautiful Sister of Flight, they were married and lived on in Punjam Hy Loo. Within a year, a child was born. A girl. Selfless like her father. Pure of heart like her mother. She was named Toothiana.

The child of Haroom and Rashmi (for that was Toothiana’s mother’s name) seemed to be a normal mortal child. As there were no other human children living in Punjam Hy Loo, her parents thought it best to raise her among other mortals, and so they settled on the outskirts of a small village at the edge of the jungle. The young girl was well loved and protected and lived a simple, happy life until she was twelve and lost her last baby tooth. That’s when all her troubles began.

“Troubles?” Katherine asked nervously. (Katherine is also another book only character. She is friend of the Guardians and future guardian herself, Mother Goose, guardian of the stories)

“Yes, troubles,” Mr. Qwerty said. “For when she lost her last baby tooth, Toothiana sprouted wings. By the end of this first miraculous day, she could fly with the speed of a bird, darting to the top of the tallest trees to choose the ripest mangoes, papayas, and starfruit for the children of the village. She played with the birds and made friends with the wind.

But while the children delighted in Toothiana’s new skill, the adults of the village were bewildered, even frightened, by this half bird, half girl. Some thought she was an evil spirit and should be killed; others saw ways to use her, as either a freak to be caged and paraded about, or to force her to fly to the palace of the new maharaja and steal his jewels.

Haroom and Rashmi knew that to keep their daughter safe, they would have to pack their few belongings and escape. And so they did, deep into the jungle. The village children, all of whom adored Toothiana, tried to persuade their parents to leave her alone. But it was no use. The grown-ups of the village had gone mad with fear and greed.

They built a large cage, hired the best hunters in the land, and asked them to capture the young girl. Among these was a hunter most mysterious. He spoke not a word and was shrouded from head to foot in tattered cloth stitched together with jungle vines. The villagers were wary of him, and even the other hunters found him peculiar. ‘He knows the jungle better than any of us—it’s as if he’s more a creature than a man,’ they remarked quietly among themselves.

But Haroom and Rashmi were as wily as any hunter. Haroom, knowing everything there was to know about tracking, could disguise their trail so that no one could follow it. And Rashmi, who could converse with any animal, enlisted their aid in confounding the hunters. Tigers, elephants, even giant pythons would intercept the hunters whenever they neared. But the hunters, eager for the riches and fame they’d receive if they caged Toothiana, would not give up.

Rashmi, Toothiana's mother

The children of the village were also determined to thwart the hunters. They defied their parents, sending word to Toothiana and her mother and father again and again whenever the hunters were stalking the jungle. Toothiana, wiser still, hid in the treetops by day, only visiting her parents in the darkest hours of the night.

After weeks of the best hunters in the land failing to capture Toothiana, the cunning villagers became more sly. They secretly followed their children and discovered where Toothiana’s parents were hiding. They left a trail of coins for the hunters to follow. But only one hunter came—the one they almost feared. It was then that the Mysterious Hunter finally spoke. His voice was strange, high-pitched, almost comical, but his words were cold as death. ‘Seize the parents,’ he snarled. ‘Make it known that I will slit their throats if Toothiana does not surrender. That will bring this child of flight out of hiding.’

His plan made sense; the villagers did as he suggested. They attacked Haroom and Rashmi’s camp. With so many against them, the two surrendered without a fight. They had told their clever daughter to never try and help them if they were ever captured.

But the Mysterious Hunter had planned for that. He shouted out to any creature that could hear, ‘The parents of the flying girl will die by dawn if she comes not!’

The creatures of the jungle hurried to warn Toothiana that her parents were doomed if she did not come. Toothiana had never disobeyed her parents, but the thought of them at the dubious mercy of these grown-ups filled her with rage and determination, and she flew straight to her parents’ aid. She dove down from the treetops, ready to kill any who would try to harm her parents.

But Haroom and Rashmi were brave and cunning as well. Haroom, who had never harmed a living creature, was prepared to stop at nothing to prevent his daughter from being enslaved. And Rashmi, like all Sisters of Flight, had been a great warrior. As Toothiana neared, they slashed and fought like beings possessed. Toothiana flickered back and forth, hovering over her mother and father, reaching for them, but she did not have the strength to lift them up over the angry mob. Rashmi thrust a stringed pouch into her daughter’s hands. ‘Keep these to remember us by. Keep these to protect yourself,’ she pleaded to her child.

'Now go!’ commanded her father. ‘GO!’

With a heartrending cry, the winged girl did as her father ordered. She flew away but stopped, unsure of what to do. Her ears filled with the sound of the vengeful mob falling upon her parents.

‘Go!’ shouted her mother.

Toothiana flew wildly and desperately away. And as she went, she screamed from the depths of her soul. It was the scream of two beings: human and animal. It was a scream so pained and fierce that it caused all the villagers who were attacking her parents to go briefly deaf. All except . . . the Mysterious Hunter. He screamed back to Toothiana. His was a scream equally unsettling—a scream of rage and hate that was more animal than human. Toothiana knew in that instant that she had a mortal enemy—one who she must kill or be killed by.

But for now she would grieve. She flew to the highest treetop and huddled deep inside its foliage. She had no tears, only the blank ache of a now-empty life. She rocked back and forth in a trance of disbelief for a full day and night. Then she remembered the pouch her mother had thrust into her hands. Trembling, she opened it. Inside was a small box carved from a single giant ruby. It was covered in feathery patterns, and Toothiana knew that the box had once been the ruby-tipped arrow that had nearly killed her parents. Inside this beautiful box was a cluster of baby teeth and a note:

Our Dearest Girl,

These are the teeth of your childhood. If you have them under your pillow as you sleep, or hold it tightly, you will remember that which you need—a memory of happy days, or of deepest hopes, or even of us in better times.

But one tooth is not yours. It is a tooth of amazing power, and from what being it comes from, we do not know.

Use it only in times of the greatest danger or need.

Your Dearest Parents

Toothiana still did not cry, not even after reading the note. She slept with her baby teeth under her pillow and took solace in the dreams and memories it gave her.

Toothiana stayed in the jungle. She began to hate her wings. Once, she had thought them wondrous things, but now she saw them as the reason for the death of her parents. Her grief and loneliness knew no depths. The creatures of the jungle did what they could to help her, by bringing her food and making her treetop sleeping places as comfortable as possible. The children of the village tried to aid as well, but they now had to be doubly cautious of the village grown-ups.

As for Toothiana, she became more and more convinced that she belonged nowhere—not among the creatures of the jungle and certainly not among the humans of the village. She was alone. When she was at her very saddest, she would take one of her baby teeth from the carved box she always carried in her mother’s pouch she now wore around her neck, and hold it until it revealed its memories.

As the lonely years passed, Toothiana saw that the village children lost much of their innocence and some of their goodness as they grew up. She began to collect their teeth, so that, in the future, she could give them back their childhood memories and remind them of their kindness, just as her own parents had done for her.

Soon the children, not wanting their parents to find out, began to hide their lost teeth under their pillows for Toothiana to find. And she, cheered by this new game of sorts, began in turn to leave behind small bits of treasure she had found in the jungle. A gold nugget here. A sprinkling of sapphire chips there.

But you can imagine the curiosity that is stirred when a five-year-old sits down to breakfast with an uncut ruby in her palm, or when a ten-year-old boy comes to the table with a pocket full of emeralds. Once again the hearts of the grown-ups filled with greed, and it wasn’t long before they forced their children to tell them how they had come upon those treasures. Soon enough they had laid a new trap for Toothiana.

One dark, cloudy night Toothiana flew to the village to make her nightly rounds. A boy named Akela had lost his two front teeth, and Toothiana had a special treasure saved for him: two beautiful uncut diamonds. But as she entered his open window, it wasn’t Akela she found. Instead the Mysterious Hunter leaped toward her. From behind his shroud of rags, she could see the strangest eyes. Close together. Beady. Not entirely human. And cold with hate.

Toothiana’s rage clouded her keen intellect. All she could think was, I must get rid of this . . . thing! But before she could act, a steel door slammed down between her and the Hunter. She glanced around with birdlike quickness. The room was not Akela’s bedroom, but, in fact, a cleverly disguised steel cage.

She was trapped! The villagers cheered as the Hunter hauled away the cage. His platoon of slavelike helpers pulled the wheeled prison away from the villagers and into the jungle. The helpers were as strangely shrouded as the Hunter who commanded them was, and seemed excited by the capture. The children wept, begging their parents to let Toothiana go free. But they would not. The Mysterious Hunter had promised them riches beyond their dreams when he sold Toothiana.

Toothiana flung herself wildly against the cage, like a cornered eagle. But it did no good. The Hunter and his minions traveled swiftly through the night, deeper into the jungle. They knew the creatures of the wild would try to help Toothiana, so they carried the one weapon every animal fears: fire.

Torches were lashed to the roof of Toothiana’s cage. The Mysterious Hunter himself carried the brightest torch of all. The animals kept their distance, but they continued to follow the eerie caravan and keep watch over Toothiana, waiting for a chance to strike.

After days of travel they arrived at the base of the steep mountain of Toothiana’s birthplace—the kingdom of Punjam Hy Loo. The great elephants that guarded the mountain were standing at the ready, shifting back and forth on their massive feet. Toothiana’s jungle friends had warned them that the Mysterious Hunter was headed their way.

The Hunter did not challenge the elephants. He ordered his minions to halt and made no move to attack. Instead, he held his flaming torch aloft. ‘I bring a treasure to the Sisters of Flight and the flying elephant king who dwell in Punjam Hy Loo!’ he shouted into the night sky. The sky was empty; there was no sign of either the winged women who ruled there, or of the flying elephant.

The Hunter called out again. ‘I bring you the half-breed daughter of Haroom and Rashmi.’ At this, an otherworldly sound—like a rustle of trees in the wind—was heard. And indeed wind did begin to blow down from the mountain. It grew stronger and more furious, with gusts that nearly put out the torches.

Toothiana knew instinctually that this wind was sent by the Sisters of Flight and that they did not trust the Hunter. She also knew that it was time to take out the box her parents had left her.

As the winds continued to rise, the Hunter grew increasingly nervous, as did his minions. They began to chatter in the oddest way, not in words, but in sounds.

Then a chorus of voices, all speaking in unison, rang out bright and clear above the howl of the wind: ‘Tell us, Hunter, why cage our child? Where be her father and mother? What trick of men do you bring us? What do you seek, you who seem of men and yet are not?’

The Hunter rocked on his feet, seething with undisguised hate. He held his torch high and stepped forward, leaning into the wind. The elephants raised their trunks but took a step back. Fire was a fearsome thing, even for these mighty beasts.

The Hunter laughed, then threw down his tattered cloak. He was no man at all, but a massive monkey. ‘A maharaja of men I once was,’ he screamed, ‘and by your doing, I am now a king of the monkeys!’ Then his troops dropped their cloaks as well. An array of monkeys revealed themselves, all armed with bows and arrows.

The Monkey King shrieked above the roaring wind, ‘You ask about her parents? Dead! By my doing! What do I seek? Revenge! On all who made me thus!’ Then he threw his torch into the herd of elephants and grabbed a bow and arrow from one of his men. He had it drawn in an instant, aimed directly at Toothiana’s heart.

Before he could let loose the arrow, the wind tripled in strength. Toothiana knew what to do. She held the ruby box tightly in her hand. ‘Mother, Father, help me,’ she whispered furiously, clenching her eyes shut. She pictured them clearly in her mind, letting herself feel the bond they had shared so deeply, letting herself remember how much they had sacrificed for her.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the cage. She was no longer a single entity, but several smaller versions of herself.

Bow drawn, the Monkey King hesitated, bewildered. How can this be? He could not remember the power of love—even though it had been this girl’s father who had loved him best—and his own memories were now fueled only by hate.

So the world turned against him once again.

The Sisters of Flight circled overhead. It was the flapping of their wings that made the great wind. It grew wilder and stranger, like a tornado. Leaves snapped off trees. Dirt swirled like a storm, and the Monkey King’s torch blew out.

Now the only light came from the Moon, and no jungle creature fears that guiding light. In an instant the elephants stampeded forward. Toothiana’s animal friends attacked. Toothiana’s mini-selves charged the Monkey King. The monkey army screamed and ran.

The king tried to grab the Toothianas, but he could not catch them. Then all the fairy-sized selves merged back into a single being. Toothiana was mystified by her new power, but she didn’t think on it. With one hand, she grabbed the Monkey King by the throat. It was as if she now had the strength of a dozen. The Monkey King cried out in terror and pain.

For an instant Toothiana felt the rage within her swell. She would snap his neck and be done with him. But the little box glowed in one hand, and the memory of her parents made her stop. She would not end this monkey man’s life. Let the jungle choose his fate.

So she let him go.

He fell to the ground, and she did not look back as she flew up to join the Sisters of Flight.

As they sped away, Toothiana and her kindred could hear the creatures of the jungle do as they saw fit with the fallen Monkey King. And his cries could be heard all the way to the Moon.

Mr. Qwerty then shut his pages. The tale, as it was written, was done.

#rotg tooth #rotg #rise of guardians #guardians of childhood #william joyce

75 notes · View notes

hitory--chan · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

-----------------------------------

Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

--------------------------------

Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

--------------------------------------

When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

----------------------------

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

------------------------

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

#sasuhina month #sasuhinamonth2021 #day 5 #sasuhina #queen of the garden #theres a spanish vertion #but im not publishing it here #too long

31 notes · View notes

ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

Note

I really want to read the post where you say "why Ravenclaw is the House that suits MC the most in the main story" but I dont find it

I haven’t ever made a full length post about it, come to think of it. I’ve talked about it in previous Ask responses but admittedly I have quite a few of those. So I suppose now is as good a time as any!

Ultimately, HPHM’s story is designed so that any House can work for Jacob’s Sibling. Obviously, no one House is “canon” over the others. But in my personal opinion, certain Houses do make more sense for different reasons. Everything can change based on how you characterize MC, but setting aside the dialogue choices, they tend to have a general personality that fills in for most of the scenes. It’s average, a kind of “everyman” type. And certain choices can arguably be considered “canon” when they’re the ones that are free, placed next to choices that are locked behind attributes or friendship checks. That is the general vision of MC that I’ll be analyzing.

But first, the characters.

One of the primary reasons that MC fits Ravenclaw the best in the Main Story is because there are several characters who are aligned to MC in their Sorting. They always follow MC to whatever House they go to. Thus it becomes a question of which house suits them the most. Rowan Khanna, I think, speaks for them-self. I could see them in any House but they are a Ravenclaw through and through. I bet the only reason they ever get Sorted anywhere else is because they ask the Hat to let them follow MC. They are absolutely brilliant, with a love of reading and learning new things. They’re eccentric as well, deeply creative and good at coming up with plans. They dream of being a Professor, and they turn to books above all else. Next we have Jacob. Another character who could go anywhere based on interpretation, but he strikes me as a Ravenclaw too. Several of the options you can give when expressing speculation about him suggest that the reason he probably investigated the Vaults in the first place was his thirst for knowledge, his desire to know their secrets. To be specific, his stubborn and obsessive need to know. I feel like Jacob couldn’t let this go until he had learned all of the hidden magic and secrets of the Vaults, until he realized far too late that he was in over his head, mixed up with R and everything.

Then there is Flitwick. A canon Ravenclaw of course, and one of the four Heads of House. It could be coincidental, but even if it is, Flitwick is easily the most developed of the Heads of House within this game. McGonagall is totally in character, but she’s part of the sideline outside of a small section of Year 2. Sprout contributes absolutely nothing, and Snape is likewise in character, but lacking anything to do until Rakepick shows up. Flitwick prepares MC for the first duel with Merula and gives them counsel. I suppose it’s not that much more than McGonagall teaching them the revealing spell in Year 2, but this felt so much more personal. You have the chance to make a promise to Flitwick, and either keep it or break it. In Year 4, he is I think the only teacher to speak up in Rakepick’s defense, and this leads into even further development of his character. By Year 5, he starts to warn MC not to investigate the Portrait Curse, but stops mid-sentence as he realizes that nothing he can say will stop them. I bring all of this up because Flitwick being such a fleshed out character in this game kind of goes hand in hand pretty well with the idea that he is MC’s Head of House. He is the only Head who shows the slightest bit of remorse when banning MC from Hogsmeade. With him, you really get the sense that he’s being overruled and doesn’t agree with it. That he’s in MC’s corner. And god I love him. I won’t stray too far into the Quidditch characters, but I will say that Murphy and Orion are two other characters that stick with MC, who I could very much see as Ravenclaws, both in different ways. But still, it’s Jacob and Rowan who are most important in affecting the story.

Which brings me to the story itself.

Hogwarts Mystery is different from the story of Harry Potter. This is the tale of Jacob and his Sibling. In HP, we know from the beginning who the villain is, that he’s an evil monster. We know what he wants, and that he failed. It gets fleshed out more later but everything you need to know is in that first book. We see him, he clashes with Harry, and loses. The books are a hero’s journey. A story of good versus evil. They do have mystery aspects, each of the books has a mystery told within it’s pages. But the overarching story is not about what’s hidden in the trapdoor, or who opened the chamber of secrets. It’s about Harry and Voldemort’s rivalry, their hero/villain dynamic. Everyone knew going into DH that Harry would defeat him in the end because that’s how these things go. OOTP basically confirmed it but most fans had known for years.

HPHM is different.

There are heroic moments, and Merula in particular compares MC to being a “hero.” But nothing they do is heroic in the same way as Harry. They both take active roles in the story but in different ways. Harry is still reactionary. He takes it upon himself to solve the problems, but he still waits until the problems show up. MC plans to open the Vaults even before the Curses show themselves. They arrive at Hogwarts with a goal in mind, finding Jacob. And with Hogwarts Mystery, the overarching story is not a hero’s journey. Because MC is so much more ambiguous than Harry. It might seem redundant to say that this story is a Mystery, but it is. An ongoing investigation, the unraveling of a conspiracy. Learning the truth about just what went down during Jacob’s years at Hogwarts. By HBP, Voldemort was such a familiar presence that we were learning the ins and outs of his childhood, right down to how his parents met. By Year 6, we still have no idea what R really is, or what they want. We don’t even know what it stands for. The black and white of the books, the heroes and the villains...that’s all replaced with shades of gray. Jacob is constantly in the gray. So is Rakepick, at least at first. Don’t get me started on Merula. Ben is another character who is definitely good, but has gone through such a roller coaster about who he is and whether he can be trusted.

Then there’s the ambiguity of MC them-self. The hints that they don’t share everything with people, are prone to tricking others, and for all we know, might wind up on the Dark Side someday. I’ll admit, this can also lend itself well to MC being a Slytherin, and indeed there are dialogue choices that are locked behind being one. But I still feel as though MC playing detective throughout this entire game, that whole premise lends itself pretty damn well toward a Ravenclaw MC. They’re trying to defeat the bad guys, but their main method of preparing for that fight is not train up an army of students, it is to investigate the Vaults, and investigate R. Even going as far as to work with Wizarding police. Granted, I know Harry poked around a lot too. And MC does form the Circle of Khanna, just like how Harry formed Dumbledore’s Army. Both of them do exhibit both behaviors, but MC specializes in covert investigation more than preparation for combat. Again, at least they do so in the main story. The Circle of Khanna was not meant to be like Dumbledore’s Army, at least not in concept. MC first conceived it as the idea of standing toe to toe with the Cabal by having a secret organization of their own. I know that didn’t really land perfectly in actual practice but that was the whole idea. And if there’s one thing MC has a constant stream of, it’s ideas. Not always the right ones, not always fast enough, but they do have them, and these ideas steer the plot. In the main story and otherwise.

It’s probably a bit cheap to get meta, but so be it.

I can’t help but notice how, if we take every other contribution to the Potterverse into account...well then, we’ve got a Gryffindor Protagonist in the form of Harry. We’ve got a Slytherin Protagonist in the form of Albus Severus. And a Hufflepuff over in Fantastic Beasts with Newt Scamander. If MC is a Ravenclaw, then that completes the quartet. But there’s another Quartet out there as well - that of the Original Four. Rowan, Ben, Penny, and Merula. The Year 1 characters and the OG leads of the Hogwarts Mystery story. Notice anything about them? We have a Hufflepuff, a Gryffindor, and a Slytherin...but no Ravenclaw. None that is, unless MC, and therefore Rowan by extension, is a Ravenclaw. MC being Sorted into the House of Eagles completes both of these groups. I dunno, I just find it curious that unless the Player goes to Ravenclaw, the first student character we meet in that House shows up in Year 3. Because Jam City wrote in some amazing characters for Ravenclaw. My love of Tulip Karasu is well documented, but I also think Talbott is pretty damn fascinating. Andre and Badeea rock too! Ravenclaw is also a relatively neutral House. I’ve said before that HPHM ignores the House rivalries, and that’s easiest to incorporate in the House of Eagles, which mostly keeps to itself. It would not be socially strange for a Ravenclaw to have so many friends from different Houses. I’m not saying a Slytherin MC couldn’t befriend Ben, for example, but he’s a Muggle-born Gryffindor and that would be a big deal to everyone else. Again, not saying it couldn’t happen, just that it would turn heads and people within Slytherin might go as far as to treat MC like a traitor. I like this premise, but...would Felix seriously help MC prepare to fight Merula, a fellow Slytherin, on behalf of someone like Ben? There are other trivial problems, like the question of two male Prefects if MC is Gryffindor, etc.

But that’s just a few thoughts. Again, there’s clearly no “canon” House, and neither of my MCs are even in Ravenclaw. But I think it’s fun to explore the idea as Ravenclaw is a House that, I think, is sorely needing development.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery #HPHM Analysis #HPHM Jacob's Sibling #HPHM Jacob #Rowan Khanna #Filius Flitwick #HPHM #Ramblings #Long Post #Patricia Rakepick #HPHM R #The Circle of Khanna

27 notes · View notes

madmanjive · 3 years

Text

Shinji, Asuka, and QRei wander until they are picked up by a truck, transporting them to a nearby Lilin settlement.

Toji is a village doctor and father of a young child named Tsubama (with Hikari, who is also alive).

Kensuke is also there. He’s an avid survivalist and works for a smaller sub-organization within WILLE called KREDIT, developing and refining the re-vitalization tech used for Angel Sealing Pillars.

Shinji stays with Kensuke and Asuka. Asuka wanders around naked and has a few suspiciously intimate moments with Kensuke, who she refers to as Ken-Ken.

Shinji is nearly catatonic. He refuses to eat or engage, still shaken by what happened with Kaworu. At one point, he gets a glimpse of Asuka’s DSS Choker and vomits, having been reminded of Kaworu’s head exploding. Kensuke cleans up the vomit.

Asuka marvels how he can manage to throw up without eating anything. Frustrated, Asuka and other villagers try to forcefeed him meals. Village elders scold Shinji for not trying hard enough. Hikari implores that the elders go easier on him.

Meanwhile, Shinji is slowly recovering from his initial shock. Asuka is protecting the village perimeter.Kensuke teaches Shinji how to fish, elaborating more on the Angel Sealing Pillars. According to Kensuke, ASPs do not run indefinitely. Their failure will mean the end of the Lilin settlement and its inhabitants. Here, he introduces Shinji to “Ryoji Kaji” - Misato and Kaji’s 14 year old son, who works with Kensuke on KREDIT.Ryoji wears a light blue/white radiation suit. Here, it’s explained that Kaji died during 3rd Impact by closing the Door of Guf, while Misato was pregnant with Ryoji. Presumably, the Door of Guf can only be opened and closed with a Key of Nebuchandezzer, so Kaji could have procured two Keys from SEELE, one that he gave to Gendo, and one that he kept for himself.Ryoji has no clue who his parents are - allegedly thinks of himself as orphaned (parallels with Kaji’s own childhood post-Second Impact). Misato had abandoned him shortly after he was born.

Turns out, Rei has an LCL deficiency in need of constant maintenance. Her body deteriorates the longer she remains outside her tank. With Tsubama near, Rei starts crying as the realization dawns on her. She has no idea how to process her death and doesn’t understand why it makes her so sad.Before she dies, Rei finds Shinji and gives him the SDAT. She thanks him. Her plugsuit changes color from black to white and she explodes in a pop of LCL.Shinji decides to return to WILLE and help Misato restore the world back to its pre-Impact state.WILLE does not react to Shinji well. They quarantine him again, though this time without a DSS Choker. Asuka and Mari visit him in his quarantine cell.Mari re-introduces herself to Shinji. Asuka admits to Shinji that she’d “liked him a long time ago” when she was still a child. Asuka is relieved to be long past those childish feelings, and happier still she had the opportunity to get them off her chest.Gendo starts to make use of Eva 13. The Wunder embarks to destroy him and 13. Here, a battle ignites between a skull-Eva army and Units 02 and 08, repaired with the spare parts WILLE salvaged from Paris in AVANT.Asuka attempts to destroy Unit 13′s core, first by removing her eyepatch to unleash an energy bolt from her Bardiel-corrupted eyesocket.When that doesn’t work, she goes beast mode, only for Unit 13 to destroy her after she injects Angel blood into 02 for an emergency upgrade. Asuka dies.

Gendo successfully merges with 13, ready to start the final Impact. Shinji demands that Misato let him pilot Unit-01.Misato agrees; the time has come for Shinji to face off against his father in Unit-01. However, Sakura and Midori are vehemently opposed to the idea.Sakura, terrified and panicked, tries to shoot Shinji. Misato intervenes and takes a bullet for him (just like in EOE).As Shinji rushes to Misato’s aid, they have a heart to heart. Shinji tells Misato he met her son, Ryoji, and liked him. Shinji hands Misato a photo of Shinji and Ryoji smiling together that Kensuke had taken moments before. Misato smiles, relieved.Mari retrieves Shinji and transports him to Unit 01. Inside 01, sits Rei II with long hair. Shinji goes berserk.Shinji and Gendo duke it out in Units 01 and 13. Shinji is positioned as someone capable of growth, someone who can move on from the past, versus Gendo, who is escapist, stagnant, trapped in old memories. Shinji resolves to create a new world without Evas. During their fight, Shinji and Gendo’s memories cycle through, pulling in random scenes from their pasts: Shinji’s middle school, Sachiel stage, inside Misato’s apartment, etc.WILLE is baffled how Shinji can pilot despite his synch ratio reading “zero” - until Maya and Ritsuko realize “zero” actually represents the number closest to zero; that is, infinity.At one point, Gendo and Shinji stop fighting and the setting transforms to reveal a train, where they both confront each other. Gendo’s backstory is explored: he was alone and didn’t care about people, until he met Yui, who made him feel for the first time. When she died, he decied he’d do anything to get her back again.

Shinji gets right up in Gendo’s face and pops his AT Field. Gendo protests, incredulous and resisting. We see a flashback of Gendo sending Shinji away.Shinji gives Gendo the SDAT through the AT Field. Gendo, defeated, departs the train

Shinji and Rei brainstorm how the new, Eva-less world will look like. Shinji says, in English, the new world will be a “Neon Genesis.”Rebuild is set up as a sequel/loop of the original TV series. Kaworu is the same character in every Evangelion story: when he dies in one universe he gets brought back in another.Shinji remembers the original anime inside Unit 01, which contains both the Lance of Longinus and Lance of Cassius (the lances of hope and despair, together).

Shinji attempts to impale himself as we get flashbacks from End of Evangelion. Giant Rei returns in hyperrealistic/fantastical CGI.Misato sacrifies herself and the Wunder by colliding the ship into GNR’s giant head. Before she dies, she says “I’m sorry, Ryoji” - a parallel played straight with Gendo in EOE.Yui blocks Shinji before he can impale himself with the Spears. Two sets of arms wrap around 01, including Eva 13 (Gendo). Gendo and Yui reunite, smiling fondly at their son.Shinji gets transported into the sea of LCL from End of Evangelion. Asuka is there, her plugsuit in tatters. Shinji tells Asuka that he once liked her, but now she needs to take care of Kensuke.Asuka has an Instrumentality sequence where she confronts a giant, human-sized doll as a child. The doll removes its head to reveal Kensuke, who affirms her existence

Final Impact commences. Shinji says “Goodbye, all of Evangelion.” Unlike EOE Impact where everyone explodes into puddles of LCL, everyone, already having exploded, regains their forms through self-discovery.Evangelions turn into humans. Humans become men, women, children, animals, and nature.Shinji is alone on a quiet, blue beach. Mari’s Evangelion appears and says, “Goodbye Evangelion 3.0+1.0.” We’re treated to another train station. Adult Shinji, wearing a business suit, waits on one side of the tracks. Adult Rei and Kaworu are on the other side.Adult Mari comes up from behind Shinji and goes “Guess who?”Shinji replies: “a woman with a big chest.” Mari asks him if he’s “ready to go” and Shinji responds with an affirmative. Then, the shot pulls back to reveal a shot of live action Ube, Japan - Hideaki Anno’s hometow

There you have it. After all these years kensuke get to be whit the girl of his dreams. Kensuke is the man. AsukaKkenken LIVES!!!! Good things comes to those who wait.

#kensuke aida #asuka langley soryu #AsukaKenken #asuken #evangelion 3.0+1.0 #evangelion #neon genesis evangelion

42 notes · View notes

c-rose2081 · 3 years

Text

Storybook Days

(Chapter 1)

—

It’s Summer in Auradon, and Audrey is tasked with babysitting the VK kids while the others are busy. Not sure what to do with them, Audrey agrees to read from a book of stories Dizzy found in the royal library. Except the book is actually enchanted; and now Audrey, Celia, Dizzy and the twins are stuck inside its pages, having to go through each story until they find a way out.

—

“Ben, you can’t be serious,”

It wasn’t very Princess-like to whine, but Audrey Rose didn’t care much for being proper at the moment. It was a bright and clear Summer day in Auradon, and the young King had just dropped a last minute bombshell on the heir of Auroria, “what do you mean I have to babysit?”

“I wouldn’t do this unless I had to, Auds.” Ben said, only half-apologetic as he quickly signed off on some papers while trying to kick on his left shoe, “but Evie’s presence at the Royal Picnic has been requested,”

“So what!” Audrey insisted, following Ben across the study as he gathered up his leather jacket and motorcycle helmet, “why not take the little heathens with you to the stupid picnic?”

Ben shot Audrey a warning look as she lifted her hands and scoffed, “sorry. I just mean they are troublesome and annoying, and I don’t want to babysit,”

“Audrey, you know I’d love for them to come, and for us not to be having this conversation. But four VKids running around with a bunch of stuffy dignitaries is a disaster waiting to happen. This Picnic is really important,”

“But why can’t Uma do it? Or your parents?”

“Because Uma, Harry and Gil are on the isle this weekend doing outreach, and mom and dad will be at the picnic,”

“Ugh, but Ben...”

“Audrey,” placing both hands firmly on the girls shoulders, the boy shot her a dazzling, Kingly grin, “remember what you said to me after Barrier Day? About wanting to make amends?”

“Yes,” Audrey grumbled, “I’m the one who said it,”

“This is a perfect opportunity. It’s just one afternoon, till tomorrow, and Mal and Evie would certainly appreciate it,”

“But the VKids hate me, Ben,” Audrey insisted again as the King walked from the office with a pink Princess in tow, “Celia put chili powder on the rim of my teacup the other day. I could’ve died,”

“It was a harmless little prank, Audrey,” Ben chuckled, swiveling around on a heel to cup Audrey’s cheek in his hand, “you’ll be fine. I have full faith that you can watch them for a night.” He reassured her, “please Audrey? For me?”

Giving the girl his best beastly pout, Audrey folded her arms tightly against her chest.

“Fine. But you’ll bring something back for me, right?” Audrey asked, admitting defeat with a deep sigh and an eye roll, “a piece of cake or...”

“Something sweet for my favorite Princess.” Ben agreed, hurriedly kissing the back of Audrey’s knuckles with a smile, “you’ll do great, I just know it. Evie left some instructions on the fridge, and you have us all on speed dial. Now I have to go or I’ll be late,”

Leaving the Princess at the top of the steps, she watched Ben mount up his motorbike and speed off with an army of staff behind him. This left the castle unusually quiet, and Audrey placed both hands on her hips as she exhaled deeply.

“Babysitting duty,” She scoffed under her breath, tipping her head to rub the place between her eyes, “what a world this is.”

Once upon a time, Audrey would’ve been invited to the Royal Picnic. Naturally though, after her little stint with Maleficent’s Scepter, things had been a bit rocky with the other royal families in Auradon. She was shielded from the gossip by spending the Summer in Beast’s Castle, while her Mum, Dad and Grammy patched things up in Auroria with broad, fantastic strokes. But she still caught wind of the whispers going around. None of them pleasant.

Turning and walking back into the castle, Audrey closed the door with a shallow BANG, and rattling echo. She walked towards the kitchen, still trying to soothe the headache she already felt coming on. Of all the people in the Castle, Audrey was the favorite target for devilish pranks. The VKids were little brats, running around like they owned the place and being spoiled rotten by Evie. And though Dizzy could be sweet on her own, she was Celia’s right hand minion when push came to shove.

Grumbling nonsense under her breath, Audrey swept by the island towards the fridge. Here, a scrawled note in Evie’s hand lay stuck under a magnet. It wasn’t just instructions; it was an entire schedule of things to do.

“These kids live better then I do,” Audrey mumbled, raising an eyebrow at some of the items Evie had listed.

Bake Cookies

Croquet on the Lawn

Movie Marathon

Run Baths

Bedtime Story

“Bedtime story?” Audrey mumbled with a scoff, “you’ve got to be kiddi-EEK!”

Audrey leapt up with a shriek as something cold was dropped down the back of her dress. Shaking herself hard to dislodge the ice cube from lace and satin, Audrey groaned in frustration as she whipped around. Celia and Dizzy were on the floor, holding their tummies as they laughed. The Twins were peeking in through the doorway, not laughing but staring at her like she’d take their heads off.

“You little brats!” Audrey hissed, “get off the floor. Front and center,”

“We don’t take orders from you, old hag.” Celia cackled, rolling over onto her stomach, “why aren’t you at the Picnic? Didn’t get invited?”

“As a matter a fact I didn’t,” Audrey seethed through her teeth, “so now, I’m stuck here watching you four,”

“Awe what!” Celia complained, finally getting back to her feet and brushing off her skirt, “but Evie had a big day planned.”

“Yeah well, Evie’s not here,” Audrey hissed, holding up the list in her hand and waving it around, “and I’m not interested in catering to your every desire. So you can just forget about that,”

“You’re kinda mean,” Dizzy complained.

“You just put an ice cube down my dress, scared me out of my skin, and now you expect me to play nice? I don’t think so,” Audrey hissed, tearing up the list in her hands and tossing it on the counter. Turning to the twins, she pointed at them, “you two, in here with me. We’re gonna have a chat,”

Hesitantly, the blondes scuttled in. Four VKids now faced off with a very peevish Princess, the girl placing both hands on her hips with an animalistic huff, “alright, twerps. Here’s how this is gonna go. I don’t really care what you do. Go hide in your rooms, watch TV all day, play with swords in the armory, whatever. Just leave me out of it unless someone’s dying,”

“What will you be doing?” Celia asked, “plotting to curse Ben and Mal’s first child?”

Both Ceila and Dizzy sniggered behind their hands as Audrey clenched a fist tightly.

“I really hate children,” she managed under her breath, folding her hands together as though in prayer, “listen, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. I get that, and I’m really quite reasonable. So just stay away from me, and you can do whatever you want. Kapeesh?”

Four pairs of eyes blinked up at her in confusion as Audrey rolled her eyes and translated, “do you understand?”

“Yeah, we understand,” Celia nodded, glancing at her companions before pinning Audrey with a hard stare, “but we want waffles for dinner.”

“Deal.”

“And we want to watch an R rated movie!” Dizzy added as Audrey lifted a brow but shrugged. If it kept the little monsters away from her, it was worth the risk.

“Fine. Anything else? You two?”

Glancing at the twins, the blondes shook their heads quickly as Audrey clapped her hands together and sighed in relief.

“Great. I’ll be out by the pool enjoying what’s left of today. You stay in here and do whatever, and we’ll be peachy. Kay?”

Nodding in agreement, Audrey turned and walked from the kitchen. Changing into her favorite bikini and hat, the Princess found her way to the pool a little while later. Not trusting the water — lest Celia put dye in it that would make her skin turn blue — Audrey found a comfortable spot on a lawn chair and dropped the sunglasses down over her eyes. For a while, the world was peaceful. But Audrey should’ve known better then to trust the VKids word on anything.

While she slept, Celia managed to drop a scorpion on her from the upper balcony. Where she had even gotten such a thing, Audrey wasn’t sure. But it pinched her fair skin a few times before she was able to knock it away, causing horrible red welts to form. Upon running inside, she slipped and fell on oil that had been lift on the marble and slammed back first into a suit of armor. There was laughter above her on the stairway, but Audrey was to busy rubbing the long cut which she now had on her forehead from the fall to notice.

It was an afternoon of one vicious prank after another. From simply stealing her clothes while she was showering, to locking her in a broom closet which they had somehow tricked her into, it was constant pain and torment. Her own little hell on earth. By the time dusk was falling, Audrey was exhausted and in pain. Her head ached from a possible concussion, and her stomach burned with the scorpion stings. Her mouth tasted a bit like ash from the Alo-Vera gel Dizzy managed to spread on her sandwich while she wasn’t looking. And she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.

Thankfully, after putting the movie on and shoving plates piled with waffles into the kids hands, the terrible two had shut up. The film was long over now, and Audrey assumed the four had made their way to bed. She herself was trying and failing to sleep when the slow open of her door made her heart still. Not another prank. She couldn’t handle any more today.

“...Audrey?” Dizzy whispered. Ignoring the girl in hopes she’d simply go away, Audrey winced as her shoulder was gently tapped, “Audrey, are you awake?”

“...I am now,” the Princess groaned, rolling over to face the VKid. Dizzy was haloed in the hall light, but Audrey could see the tears streaming down her face and what appeared to be a book in her arms. Sitting up slightly, Audrey’s brows furrowed, “hey, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” Dizzy croaked, “I had a nightmare,”

“A nightm-” pausing, Audrey sighed and nodded, “from the movie I bet.”

“It was really scary,” Dizzy whimpered.

“Ok. And what would you like me to do?” Audrey asked, not entirely sure how to proceed. After all, when she was young and couldn’t sleep, she never went to mum or Grammy. They just sent her back to her room with a sleepy grunt and a ‘go back to sleep, Audrey’, and that was it. Comforting a scared child wasn’t something she did, let alone something she ever had experience with.

“Can you read me a story?” Dizzy asked, “I found a book in the library.”

Glancing at the clock, it was only about midnight as Audrey rubbed her face tiredly and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, fine. Go turn on the light,”

“Is it ok if the twins listen, to?” Dizzy asked, crossing the room to the light as Audrey sat up.

“You aren’t planning on waking them just to hear a story, are you?”

“No, they’re already here.”

At being mentioned, two blonde heads in night caps glanced around the doorway.

“Ah, I see,” Audrey rasped, “well come on then. Might as well read to everyone,”

At the invitation, two short bullets zipped like mice across the carpet and landed on the mattress with a PHOOPH. Dizzy followed after, climbing to sit next to Audrey on her right side as she handed over the book.

“Where did you even find this thing,” Audrey asked, blowing dust from the beautiful embossed cover, “it’s ancient,”

“I dunno. It was on one of the bottom shelves,” Dizzy shrugged, “so what’s it about?”

“A book of fairytales,” Audrey told her, reading the inscription on the first page, “this book, bequeathed to Beast and Belle on their wedding day. May it find you well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Glancing up at the new voice, Celia leaned in the doorway. Though she appeared casual and unbothered, Audrey could see the dark circles under her eyes, meaning the movie probably got to her as well, despite her facade of bravado.

“It was a wedding gift,” Audrey told her, “come to hear the story?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in that kind of thing,” Celia grumbled, though she made her way towards the bed anyway and crawled up to sit on Audrey’s other side. The twins laid across her legs, blinking up at her with sapphire colored irises.

“Well, one small story won’t hurt. Despite all the torture you put me through today.”

Celia said nothing to this as Audrey turned back to the book, flipping the page to the first story: Little Red Riding Hood.

“Once upon a time,” Audrey began, “in a wood not unlike this one, a little girl in a red cloak was making her way to her grandmothers house...”

#disney descendants #descendants #descendants fanfiction #audrey rose #celia facilier #dizzy tremaine #smee twins #fairy tales #storybook

17 notes · View notes

takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

In response to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, my (former) idols

I really didn’t want to have to do this.

So in addition to…=gestures vaguely=…all of that, the last few months have been kind of sucky when it comes to learning some really unpleasant things about artists that I looked up to, admired, and was in fact inspired by. I’ve already spoken about the Speaking Out movement revealing a lot of ugly behavior from various wrestlers, some of which I was big fans of, and then later we got Chris Jericho being a full-on MAGA. Yeah, that all sucked. But those were just performers whose work I enjoyed watching. The one that really hurt were writers who I deeply admired, whose stories I love, and who I was heavily influenced by.

The first, of course, was finding out that JK Rowling, the author of perhaps the single biggest YA fantasy series of all time Harry Potter, is a TERF. This really sucked for a number of reasons. Firstly, I really like Harry Potter! I mean, I’m not a super fan or anything. I came into it when things were kind of dying down, like the whole book series had already been released and there were only a few movies left, but I still really enjoyed it, have all the books and movies and a fair amount of merchandise swag, including a nifty wand I got at Universal Studios. Shit, I got two replicas of the Sword of Griffyindor, thanks to them screwing up my order in my favor and sending me a duplicate! They’re on my wall right across from me as I type this!

But in addition to writing a book series I really liked, JK Rowling was supposed to be one the good guys. She’s been vocally progressive, often openly comes down on British right-wing nonsense, has supported various persecuted minorities, and is on record as being one of the few self-made billionaires to actually stop being a billionaire for a time because she donated so much money to charity. And while we mock it now, her revealing Dumbledore as gay was a huge deal at the time. Plus, she cultivated this reputation as Auntie Jo, that cool, supportive aunt we all wanted.

But for a while her stock has been dropping. Her preference for confirming “representation” via tweets instead of explicitly putting it in the text of her stories has raised the question of queer-baiting, especially with a whole-ass movie with a young Dumbledore and Grindelwald to make their relationship explicit but failing to do so. The whole Nagini thing from the latest Fantastic Beasts movie was pretty gross. And re-examination of various problematic elements from the original novels has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Now, none of these really looked to be intentionally malicious, of course. Just about everyone’s early work will have problematic elements; that’s just how people work. And the later stuff smacked more of ignorance than anything. But after all this time, it’s like, c’mon. You should know better by now.

But the biggie came when her transphobic views finally came to light. Now, this one had been brewing for a while, due to some questionable likes and statements on her twitter. But then she decided to just go public and published what essentially amounts to a TERF manifesto, one with a very “love the sinner, hate the sin” condescending attitude and had a real persecution complex air to it.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what the manifesto was about, what the circumstances surrounding it were, or how wrong it was. It’s already been raked over the coals, dissected, answered, and debunked in detail by people far more qualified than me, so odds are, you’re already well aware of its contents and the subsequent rebuttals. But the gist of it comes down to her basically believing that transwomen are actually cis men claiming to be trans so as to infiltrate and invade female-only spaces.

Yeah.

Okay, that’s gross, but…why? Why is someone so noted for being progressive and wanting to foster an inclusive environment making this the hill of exclusion that she wants to die on?

Well, that’s where things get tricky. She mentions that prior to Harry Potter, her first marriage was highly physically and sexually abusive, and when she escaped from that, she had no place to go, leading her to be homeless for a time.

Oh.

Well, that makes sense. Someone goes through a highly traumatic experience with a member of the opposite sex, has no support structure when she escapes it, is left to fend for herself, only to suddenly get rocketed into fame, fortune, and influence, which in turn leads to a Never Again mentality. She was hurt, no one was there to help her, and now she’s afraid of men invading women-only spaces to victimize others like she was victimized. So…literally transphobic. Literally a Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist.

Guys, this is so fucked up. Like, how do you even approach something like this? She’s a victim in every sense of the word, so of course she’s going to have physiological damage and a warped view of things. I mean, if I found out that a close friend of mine went through the same thing and had the same prejudices, I would be nothing but sympathetic! I mean, I’d still do what I can to convince her to overcome those prejudices, but I’d still show sympathy and support for what she went through.

Abuse warps people. There’s a reason why so many abusers are abuse survivors themselves. It makes you terrified of being hurt again and often causes people to adopt toxic behaviors, beliefs, and reactions to protect themselves. I’ve already talked about it at length while discussing She-Ra and its own handling of the cycle of abuse, which included franks discussions of Catra’s horrible behavior, why she was the way she was, while never losing sympathy for her and rooting for her to overcome it. So if JK Rowling is an abuse survivor, is it really right to come down on her for having warped views because of that abuse?

But that’s the problem. See, she isn’t your troubled friend that you’re trying to help. She isn’t your cousin Leslie who’s a really sweet person but unfortunately adopted some bad ideals due to trauma suffered. She JK freakin’ ROWLING, one of the most famous, wealthy, and influential women in the world. She has a platform of millions, if not billions, which means her voice lends credibility to her bigoted beliefs. Alt-righters and other TERFs have already swooped upon this for giving validation to their awful beliefs, which puts trans people even more at risk. And as horrible as Rowling’s experiences might have been, the trans community is often the victim of far worse, and they don’t have a mountain of money and an army of defenders to protect them like she does. I’ve said it time and time again: just because you’re a victim, that doesn’t give you the right to victimize others! And bringing things back to Catra, as much as I loved her redemption in the final season, she was still a TERRIBLE PERSON for a huge chunk of the show, one that needed to be stood up to and stopped.

So yeah. That’s the messiness that is JK Rowling.

Now, let’s talk about the one that really hurts. Let’s talk about Joss Whedon.

I’ve made no secret of what a huge Whedon fan I am. Unlike Rowling, I was a HUUUUUGE superfan. Seeing Serenity for the first time in theaters was akin to a religious awakening to me as a storyteller, making it one of my top three movies of all time. Firefly is my favorite show ever. And I adored Buffy, Angel, and Dollhouse as well. I love Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers. The very first fanfic I ever wrote was a Firefly fanfic that disappeared along with my old laptop. I know his style isn’t for everyone, but I cannot understate how much of a personal inspiration he is to me as a writer.

And like Rowling, Joss was supposed to be one of the good guys! Buffy was monumental in pushing the needle when it came to female empowerment. Will and Tara were groundbreaking as a gay couple. He’s been outspoken for years about his feminist views and beliefs and was seen as one of the most prominent and influential feminist voices in Hollywood!

And then things started to go bad.

One day he was on top of the world, the mastermind behind the first two Avenger movies. And the next, it seemed like he was in freefall. It’s hard to really pinpoint exactly when the change took place. Some would say him being brought in as a last-minute substitute for Zack Snyder to take over on Justice League after Snyder had to leave due to family tragedy, and the subsequent awful critical reception to that film tarnishing his image, even if those were very unique circumstances that couldn’t really be blamed on him. Others might point to Age of Ultron’s less than stellar reception, as well as criticism of some questionable jokes and certain creative decisions regarding the character of Black Widow, which then led to a more critical examination of how Whedon continues to write female characters, as while his work might have been revolutionary in the 90’s, his failure to evolve with the times had meant that many of his portrayals are now woefully outdated and problematic, with his vision for a Batgirl movie getting hit with a lot of backlash as a result.

Again, I’m not going to go into too much detail, as this is all public knowledge and can be easily looked up, but overall it seemed that Whedon entered into a period where he was getting criticized more than he was celebrated, and his image of a guaranteed hit maker was now in doubt.

But all of this wasn’t the big problem. All creators go through rises and slumps, and everyone hits points where they get hit with a barrage of criticism; that’s just part of being a public creative figure, especially a progressive one. And had nothing happened after, it would have probably faded, got forgotten, and Whedon would have moved onto the next project with no fuss.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t just a minor slump in his career. Instead, it was the priming of the pump.

In 2016, Whedon divorced his wife of sixteen years, Kai Cole, and in an open letter, Kai Cole accused him of being a serial cheater, who would have affairs with a great many women, from co-workers, to actresses, to friends, to even his fans. And in addition to raising questions of him possibly abusing his position as showrunner to elicit sex from those working on his projects, there also is the ugly question of how could someone who speaks so highly of women then go and backstab the person who was supposed to be the most important woman in his life, as well as lying to her and denying her the autonomy of deciding whether or not she even wanted to continue to have a relationship with him?

Furthermore, Whedon himself has not explicitly denied these accusations, and comments made by him seem only to confirm them.

Now if you’ll recall, I reacted publicly to this news, and despite my admiration of Whedon’s work, I came down on Kai Cole’s side, and stated that while things like marriage issues and infidelity were no one’s business but that of the couple’s, it did raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about how Whedon treated the women in his life and he really needed to get his shit in order.

But hey, a messy private life and a guy falling into temptation isn’t that big of a deal, right? Plenty of creators also go through multiple marriages and have problems staying faithful and still continue making great art. We’re all human, it’s a stressful job, and this shit just happens, right? Sure, it’s gross and a shitty thing to do, but ain’t no business of ours, right?

In late 2020, actor Ray Fisher, who played the role of Cyborg in Justice League, openly accused Joss Whedon of fostering a hostile work environment, claiming that the director’s behavior was abusive and unprofessional, and that Whedon in turn was protected by DC executives.

DC and Warner Bros. came down against Fisher, claiming they had done an internal investigation that turned up no evidence of wrongdoing (yeah, sure they did), and soon Fisher was out as Cyborg, apparently for rocking the boat.

But then Charisma Carpenter, noted for her important role as Cordelia Chase in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, then spoke up, claiming to be inspired by Fisher in doing so. She described Whedon did indeed foster a hostile work environment on his projects, that his often acted in a toxic manner, from asking incredibly invasive and inappropriate questions regarding her pregnancy to insulting her on set. She said that she made excuses for him for years, but after undergoing a lot of therapy and reading what Ray Fisher had to say, she felt compelled to speak out.

And this just open the floodgates. Other actors and actresses also came forward, some with stories of their own, others to offer support. Even Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, confirmed Carpenter’s stories and said that she no longer wanted to be associated with Whedon. Michelle Trachtenberg, who played the character of Dawn, stated that she also experienced toxic treatment from Whedon despite her being a minor at the time, and says that the set had a rule that Whedon wasn’t allowed to be alone with her again, which really raises some sickening questions of what happened the first time. Even male stars have spoken out, from words of support and apologies for not speaking up earlier from Anthony Stewart Head and David Boreanaz, to an earlier interview with James Marsters, in which he described being terrified of Whedon, mainly due to an instance when Whedon was frustrated with the popularity of Marsters’s character of Spike messing with his plans and physically and verbally taking it out on the actor. There have been many corroborating stories of Whedon being casually cruel on set, on seemingly taking delight in making his fellow show writers cry, and even the man himself admitting to enjoying fostering a hostile work environment during his director commentary of the Avengers. We’ve joked about Whedon’s supposed sadism for years, but that was in regards to how he treated the characters in his stories, not the people helping him make them!

So yeah. That’s the problem with Joss Whedon.

So, do I think that Joss Whedon is somehow some kind of sociopath who lied about his feminist principles and deliberately put on a progressive façade specifically to get into a position of power so he could torment people? No, of course not. I think he was sincere about his beliefs, and I do think he didn’t realize the wrongness of his behavior. But that’s kind of the problem. See, it’s one thing to have kind of a trollishness to your nature, a sort of sadistic side. No one can help that. But when someone with that quality gets put into a position of power in which they are protected by both the higher-ups and their legions of fans, they are allowed to mistreat and continue to mistreat people. And by never suffering any consequences, that sort of toxic behavior becomes internalized, becomes a habit, becomes their moda operandi. And when you’re constantly getting praised as a creative genius and a wonderful feminist voice, any self-criticism just gets wiped away, and you think yourself above reproach, leading to what Joss Whedon became and went on being.

And you know what scares me the most about this particular issue? It’s not that I am a fan of his stories. It’s that I can so easily see myself turning out the same way.

Look, I’ll be upfront about it: I’m kind of a sadist myself. You’ve seen it in my stories, you’ve seen me gloating after a particularly dark plot twist makes my readers freak out. That sort of stuff is fun to me. There’s a reason why I have a much easier time in the dark and violent scenes, because I’m channeling something ugly within me. We all have a dark side, and this is mine.

But UNLIKE Whedon, that doesn’t carry over to how I treat people in real life (unless Monopoly or Mario Party are involved, then it’s fair game). Maybe it’s because I wasn’t given the sort of power and praise he did so early, and I was always taught to be considerate of other people’s feelings, but if I ever find out that I hurt another person or went too fair, I feel TERRIBLE, and it just throws me off all day until I apologize. Even if I don’t notice right away that what I said or did wasn’t cool (autistic, remember?), when it’s pointed out to me and I have some time to think on it, yeah, the guilt is on and I make a point to apologize to whoever I’ve hurt. I’ve even made a point to apologize to members of my family for inconsiderate stuff I said years ago as a little punk kid because it wouldn’t stop bugging me.

So maybe Whedon got too big, too fast. Maybe putting people on these sorts of pedestals, especially progressive ones, is ultimately a bad thing.

So where does this leave us? How are we to treat JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, one who developed a lot of transphobia due to abuse suffered while the other became a toxic individual due to unchecked control and a lack of consequences? Can we still enjoy their stories despite them now being colored by their creators’ falls from grace? Can we separate the art from the artist, or do we have to do a clean split?

Honestly, I feel that has to come down to the individual. I can’t remove the influence Rowling and Whedon have had on me as a storyteller, and I still highly respect both of their talents despite taking major issue with their problems as people. And I’m not going go throw away all of my Harry Potter or Firefly stuff. Because that’s my stuff. It has value to me, it doesn’t represent the issues with their creators, and a lot of it was gifts from people who are dear to me. Though I do think it’ll be a long time before I return to either of their work, as I just don’t have the stomach for it now.

But I will be avoiding any projects they have in the future. I don’t want to put money in their pockets that might go on to support their toxic beliefs or behavior. And as for royalties for their past work that would also support the cast and crew of the Harry Potter films or those who worked on Whedon’s shows who do not deserve to lose money because we don’t want any of that money going to the creators? Er, that question is a little above my paygrade. I don’t know. You’ll have to all decide for yourselves. As for me, I still have a lot of thinking to do.

Regardless though, if I or anyone else is still able to enjoy their work, then it’s important to not divorce what these people said or did from the art they created, even if it makes enjoying that art less fun. It’s important to be critical about what we enjoy, to acknowledge the bad aspects along with the good, and open up discussion of those elements, because that’s what mature adults are supposed to do.

And as for JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, whose stories I love, whose talent I admire, and whose past good work I’ll happily acknowledge, I do hope they both experience some sort of realization and enter into a period of self-examination that leads to them getting help for their issues, for Rowling to get help in coming to terms with her trauma and realizing that she’s wrong about the trans community and a full apology, and for Whedon to also come to terms with his toxic behavior and how he treats people, for him to make no excuse for what he did and sincerely apologize to those he hurt and work on bettering himself, as well as them both examining some of the more problematic tropes still present in their works. Because despite everything, I do feel that they can still be a creative force of good, and it would be a shame if they let themselves self-destruct.

But if not, then if it comes down to choosing between Rowling and the protecting the trans community, if it comes down between choosing between letting Whedon continue to make shows and protecting actors and writers from his abusive behavior, then I know who I’m siding with, and it ain’t the two individuals this whole essay is about. No story, no matter how good, no matter how creative, is worth letting sacrificing vulnerable people in order for it to be made.

#jk rowling #joss whedon #harry potter #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #angel #firefly #justice league #ray fisher #charisma carpenter #kai cole #transphobia tw #abuse tw #toxicity tw #TERF tw #rant #TERFs don't interact I do not want to talk to you #same for abuse apologists

22 notes · View notes

writings-of-a-daphodil · 3 years

Text

Fire Keeper: Bonus Chapter #1: Halloween

Douxie x fem!reader

Masterlist in bio!

Summary: It's Halloween in the Fire Keeper Universe!

Requested?: Yes! This was inspired by @catuskat666 's request:

Could you do like a fluffy Halloween or like Christmas chapter?

Fandom: Tales of Arcadia

Warnings: Blood, injury, y/n tried to take on a small army of goblins alone.

A/n: It’s weird posting this after Halloween, but oh well. Anyways, this takes place right before Claire and Present Danger(chapter 6) because that's around the time that halloween canonically happens...so yeah. Hope you enjoy it!

It may have been a little cliche for you to be going as a witch for Halloween, but you wanted to so you were. Jim was going in his armor and Toby was going as a robot. The three of you were dressed to impress.

Unfortunately, you weren’t getting dressed up to go trick or treating. Well, you might go, but the main goal of tonight was to keep all the children of Arcadia safe. There had been tons of goblins running amuck recently and even a few demons. It was the Trollhunter teams’ job to take care of it.

“So we’re going to the haunted house?” Toby asked as you strolled through the suburbs.

You nodded. “The goblins have been pretty active by Arcadia Oaks Academy. Blinky said that they’d be drawn to any fear, so it only makes sense they’re gonna check out the haunted house.”

“Are you sure?” Toby asked nervously. “Maybe they’d want some candy instead.”

“We’re not going inside Tobes, we're just gonna check out the area,” Jim soothed.

“And place some more traps,” you added, yawning. You had spent all of the previous night setting up magic traps. They wouldn’t keep the goblins away, but they would capture them.

“What about the other areas?” Toby asked. “It’s not like the goblins and demons are gonna stick to one area tonight.”

“I made sure to put traps there and Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Draal are patrolling the less crowded areas,” you explained as you turned onto the street by the Academy.

There was already a long line of excited people standing in the chilly air outside the school and you could hear screams through some of the open doors and windows.

There were even more people walking through the closed off street from house to house. You knew this was a popular area, but you hadn’t expected this many people. Whenever you, Jim, and Toby went trick or treating before this, you stuck to the less crowded areas.

“We should split up,” Jim suggested and you nodded. Toby immediately walked towards the houses and Jim took the street while you went off towards the school.

You circled the block, trying to look for the less crowded areas that the goblins would try to get in from and eventually you were rewarded. Behind the school one of the manhole covers was gone and a steady stream of goblins was coming out of it. You slinked back into the shadows, pulling out your phone to call Jim and Toby.

Jim arrived first and Toby followed with a full bag of candy. “You ready to take care of these guys?” You asked, your hands already glowing orange.

“Good luck!” Toby called as you and Jim ran into the street. Jim grabbed his sword and the goblins immediately attacked. You blasted a few, but found it was much easier if you just Levitated a bunch of them for Jim to take care of. With that method, it didn’t take long before the goblins had retreated and the street was empty.

You looked at Jim—who like yourself was covered in green goop—and gave him a high five. “Go team!” Toby cheered, setting down the excess rocks he had thrown at the goblins.

“What now?” You asked, taking a piece of candy Toby offered you.

“We need to check and see if any of them got inside the school,” Jim said.

“Wait, go inside the school?” Toby asked, giving the building a wary look.

“You can stay outside and keep investigating. Y/n and I can handle it.”

“No, I’ll go in. I heard the theme this year is witches and since I know an actual witch it shouldn’t be scary,” Toby reasoned.

“That’s the spirit,” you encouraged, getting in line.

“Do you think there’ll be any demons here too?” Toby asked.

“No, demons aren’t that common and I took care of one last night so I think we should be good.”

“We’ll be fine Tobes, we’re just here to take care of some goblins,” Jim soothed as the three of you were ushered inside.

For a while you followed the main hallway that was surprisingly well decorated. There were tons of fake spiderwebs and it was a bit of a struggle getting around them.

“A little help here?” Toby asked as he struggled to crawl under one. Jim pulled him to his feet as you came to a turn.

“Which way?” You asked.

“Right,” Jim said and you led the way into another hallway. This one was much darker and you heard a door slam up ahead, causing Toby to jump. Another door near you opened and you heard a cackle and footsteps behind you before another door slammed. The pattern repeated itself and you smiled at how well thought out this haunted house was.

You went up a set of stairs and you yelped as an actor jumped out in front of you. You were about to continue forward down the main hall when you heard scuffling claws to your left.

“This way,” you called to the guys, hoping they’d be able to follow your voice. The lighting in the hall was done in spot lights and you saw a green blur run through one. A door by the dim spotlight creaked open and you sighed. Goblins were always so dramatic.

You walked through the open door into a classroom with a horde of goblins waiting for you. You moved into the room so Jim and Toby could follow you, but their footsteps never came.

“I guess I’m on my own,” you muttered, getting ready to blast some spells. You hit one and another jumped on your shoulder, yanking your hair. You whimpered, falling backwards into a group of desks. Quickly you levitated the little beast off and blasted it before it hit the ground.

This only angered the goblins more. You were cornered by the teachers desk and you searched for something to use as a weapon.

A goblin leapt out at you and your hand curled around a ruler. You raised it like a sword, whacking the goblin away. Another came your way and you blasted it.

There couldn't be too many left and they must have realized their chances of coming at you alone and winning weren’t so good. You stood up as three goblins advanced on you, all jumping at once. One scratched your face and you cried out, staggering towards the whiteboard. The second one tore your sleeve while the third tried to go for your neck. You reacted slowly, feeling sharp claws cut your skin.

An orange light bloomed from you, creating a shield that forced the goblins off of you. You coughed and tried to catch your breath while they pounded on the bright orange dome protecting you. You did your best to look meek and when the goblins backed away to charge the shield, you dropped it and blasted them.

From there, slowly but surely you took care of the rest of the goblins in the room, making enough noise to wake the dead. You were rather surprised that no one had come to check on all the commotion.

You set the ruler back where you found it and quickly left the room. Now that you were back in the main hallway you decided to retrace your steps and found yourself walking into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice you just so happened to recognize apologized.

“Douxie?” You coughed.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know, checking out the haunted house with my brother and his friend who I’ve lost.”

“Oh, let me help.” He grabbed your arm. “This is the way out.”

Douxie led you out into a courtyard that opened onto the street. The area had much better lighting and you were glad you could finally see. You looked around for Jim and Toby, but it appeared they hadn’t come out yet.

“Bleeding balroths! Y/n, are you alright?” Douxie asked, staring at your scratches and the blood.

“I, uh, cut myself,” you stated lamely, too tired to give a better explanation.

“You know what, wait here, I’ll get a first aid kit.” Douxie was gone before you could argue and was back in record time.

He took your hand and led you to a bench. You sat down on the cold stone and watched as he got out what he needed.

“May I?” Douxie asked and you nodded. He raised a hand to brush your hair out of your face and kept it there, practically cradling your face as he used an antiseptic wipe.

“Douxie, I’m fine,” you protested, but the cry you let out when he used the wipe to clean a scratch proved otherwise.

“I don’t mind,” Douxie said, throwing away the wipe and getting out a new one. This time, you bit your tounge as Douxie cleaned the deeper cuts on your neck.

His eyes filled with pity and you knew he felt bad about the pain you were feeling. “Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“I need to find my brother, but thank you.”

“I’ll help you find him when I’m done,” Douxie promised, getting a bandaid out.

“Thanks Douxie, it means a lot.”

“Glad I could be of help,” Douxie said, smoothing the bandaid above your eye. “There, all better.”

He helped you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist when you swayed. You hadn’t moved far though when Jim and Toby burst out of the exit, covered in fresh green goop.

“Y/n/n? What happened?” Jim asked, taking you from Douxie.

“I cut myself,” you repeated.

“I did my best to help, but those ones on her neck look bad, maybe you should see a doctor,” Douxie suggested and Jim nodded.

Your brother moved to help you out of the courtyard, but you turned to Douxie. “Thanks.”

He gave you a charming smile. “Any time.”

****

Here ya go, it's the first bonus chapter!! I hope y'all enjoyed reading this and have a fantastic day/night and stay safe!!

P.S. I am open to requests!!!!!

P.P.S. If you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

82 notes · View notes