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seven4asecret · 2 months

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₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.2 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! (Eventual Avatar) Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter 2: I Swear I'm Not Banging Your Husband! Also, I Can See Ghosts

You lay on your couch, wrapped in a blanket, re-reading the same chapter for at least the third time. There was something about this deity that utterly fascinated you. You had combed the internet after reading about him for the first time, scouring any article you could get your hands on. You had always been morbidly intrigued by deities associated with death, but this was different and you couldn't quite figure out why.

‘Anubis, or Anpu, is quite a complex deity, he plays many roles that often run together. Possibly one of the most notable of these is as a psychopomp. He was not only considered responsible for reviving the dead and allowing them to enter the afterlife but also for leading them to safety. The ancient Egyptians believed the journey through the afterlife was an extremely dangerous one. Anubis would protect the travelers by helping avoid threats by way of concealment and leading them by secret roads only known to him. He also serves as an embalmer and healer. While the process of mummification was an important one, it was much more crucial for the spirit of the deceased to be able to successfully transition into their spiritual body in order to reach the Duat. They believed for this to happen successfully, the body needed to be restored to a preserved state of wholeness. Anubis, the creator of the mummification process, would ensure the soul would be properly revived while intact.'

You turned the page.

‘However, his abilities were not limited to the deceased. He would be more accurately thought of as a deity overseeing healing and initiation. In ancient times injuries and disease were thought to have components that were both seen and unseen. Because of his role in dealing between worlds, he would be ideal to help with both. He and his priests had an excellent knowledge of human anatomy. At royal birthing ceremonies, he would offer the symbol of rebirth, not just life, but rejuvenating life. The Romans believed that Anubis offered power over death. However, he is most notably known as the weigher and accouter of hearts. He is entrusted with making sure-’

Your phone rang.

'Oh no'.

Your stomach dropped, and somehow you knew it was Steven. You hadn't seen him lately, your shifts hadn't intersected, and he hadn't contacted you. Not that he had to, of course. But you couldn't help but worry. What if he had blacked out again? What if he had been caught by the bird-man? You had no idea what to do if that happened. Sage? Salt? Would that work on something so old? You made a mental note to research ancient ghost repellants. You shut Steven's book and rushed over to where your phone sat on the counter. It buzzed, and a number you didn't recognize scrolled past on the top of the screen.

"Hey!" You answered.

"Hiya." You couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice on the other end. It quickly turned into a frown, this wasn't his usual upbeat tone, he sounded dejected.

"Steven, how are you? Is everything alright?" He hesitated at this, causing your frown to deepen.

"Today has been, well the past few days... have been... a lot, really. I was wondering if we...if we could talk again? I-If it's not too much trouble?"

"Yeah...Yeah, of course. It's no trouble." You said softly, relieved to hear from him. You didn't mind taking part of your day off to chat. Honestly were touched that he trusted you enough to want to talk to you about his experiences a second time. "Back at my flat or...?"

"Actually, I was- I was thinking... we could meet up somewhere else. Make it up to you for the other night. Maybe...Maybe grab lunch, y'know? If- if you want of course? "

"Sure!" Your heart fluttered.

"O-okay." He paused. You got the feeling he was surprised that you had accepted his offer. "There's this stand, it's not too far from the building... makes these really good burritos, if you're interested…”

"That sounds great. Text me the location and I'll see you in a few."

"Sure thing! Laters gators!"

"In a while, Crocodile." You hung up and made your way out of the building.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It took you a few seconds to spot Steven in the flow of people, sitting on the side of a large fountain. You blinked as you took him in from a distance. You were used to his passionate and enthusiastic nature. In fact, you had never really known him to be any different until recently. But now he looked downright miserable. His shoulders were hunched more than usual and there was a frown on his face. The usual gleam in his eyes had gone, replaced with an emptiness you had never seen in them before.

"Hey there." You sat next to him. He jumped slightly in surprise.

"Hiya." He returned your greeting, and while his smile didn't reach his eyes, you noticed he perked up a bit at your company.

"I- I got you one." He held out a burrito. "I wasn't- I wasn't sure what you would like so I just got the vegetarian one. Y-you did say you were vegetarian right?"

"Yeah, I am actually." You saw him breathe out a sigh of relief as you took the wrap from him. "You didn't have to do that. I appreciate it, though. It's sweet of you. "

"O-oh, well..." he looked down, a light blush on his face, " I- it's only fair, pay you back for the coffee and the chat, y'know."

A few seconds of silence passed between you.

Steven took a breath before telling you about the next shift he had at the museum. How he had abruptly found himself on the bus there with the bird-man watching him from the street. How the man from the village, the judge of Ammit, showed up at work and referenced events from his 'dreams'. He told you of the jackals the man summoned, how they chased him into the bathroom.

As you listened, you could see clearly how much it had frightened Steven. His eyes would widen, he spoke quicker and began to tremble slightly. He would glance at you from time to time, and though it was incredibly subtle, you saw him relax when your eyes locked. You began to consider part of why he had asked to meet was because he was scared to be alone, reasonably so. And maybe, just maybe, he meant it when he said you made him feel safe. Maybe you couldn't help with his insomnia, the blackouts, or the dreams. But you could make him feel less alone, make him feel safe. Maybe that was enough for now.

He told you how it clawed, growling, about to break through the door. His reflection talked to him again there, it said that he could save him if he gave up control of the body. Steven didn't want to, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Then it went black, only for him to be on his way to his next shift when he came to. Inside the museum, he was greeted with chaos and told that the pipes had burst. When he went to JB to review the security from the previous night there was no evidence of the jackal. All it showed was Steven, implicating him for the damage.

That was certainly not what you'd expected to hear from him.

"Well, that's it. I got the sack. I don't blame 'em. I'm a vandal. I should've been arrested. " He sighed. "But, I have the keys I found in my flat, that's worth exploring, isn't it? Like, if I could find that storage locker, that might be my one chance to prove to myself that I'm not mad."

"Y-yeah. " You nodded, not knowing what to say. This was a lot to take in. Steven obviously wasn't well, he knew that. But at this point, the bird-man, his insomnia, the sleepwalking, those weren't his biggest problems anymore. Quite honestly, You'd thought that you would meet him and suggest he sage his flat. Or just provide support for him while he thinks about his next steps. But now, he had a cult- an actual cult led by a sorcerer after him.

"So I- I was wondering if you'd come with me to the storage locker... " Steven glanced up at you, and you noticed how nervous he seemed. "Maybe keep an eye out for the pigeon if he shows up, y'know... I-if you want?"

"I'd be happy to. Let's go check it out."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You weren't quite sure what to do if this didn't work. You both had made it to four storage places and turned up nothing. Each time Steven would ask if you still wanted to stay, and each time you reassured him you did. You wanted to do something, to help in any way you could. He took a breath when he stepped into the next building.

"Hiya." He greeted the man at the desk.

"Hey."

"You all right?" Steven fidgeted.

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Um, look, man, this is, like, the fifth branch I've been to. I'm looking for my storage locker. It's under "Steven Grant." If it's not under Steven Grant, it might be under "Marc." I don't have a surname, just Marc. Would you have a look for me, if that's all right? I know it sounds... "

You turned your attention away from the conversation before you. The room felt different, suffocating, and electric. The lights dimmed just barely, and you swore you could feel the slightest breeze. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

You were being watched. And what was watching was not happy.

You reached for Steven, wrapping your hands around his arm. He glanced at you, confused.

"Thanks so much! You've been really helpful!" You grabbed the keys from the man at the desk. Then quickly dragged a confused Steven down the hall, towards the lockers.

"W-what was that about?" He tilted his head to look at you, "Are you- is everything okay?"

"Yeah, should be." The lack of confidence in your voice was clear as you released your hold on him.

"T-That's not- that's not very reassuring." You really didn't want to worry him more. He was going through enough as it was and you hated to make him even more panicked.

"We may... want to hurry things up a bit. Your 'pigeon' is.. well he's not happy." You found that troubling. It only seemed to appear like this, at least so far, when Steven was looking into Marc. It was trying to keep whatever link they shared buried.

"Y-you mean- it's here now?" He began to look around, definitely worried now.

"No. Not yet but he may decide to pop up." You looked at him and squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "It'll be okay."

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You both scanned the lockers walking down the long hall until Steven stopped.

"Oh, my God. Marc Spector." He let out a sigh, "It's real. It's totally real."

He looked at you and you offered him a supportive smile as he opened the locker. It was surprisingly scarce. It only seemed to really hold a cot, a few boxes, and a duffel bag. Definitely a bit weird. You followed him inside and he began to look around. You weren't quite sure what to do now, so you stayed by the entrance. You wanted to be helpful somehow so you concentrated on the bird-man. You could still feel the entity. It was there... just not completely. And it was definitely keeping an eye on things.

Waiting. But for what?'

"Marc." You looked back to Steven, who had turned towards the wall. "There he is. Here he comes. Hello, man in the mirror. I was wondering if you'd pop up again." He said a bit exasperated.

You blinked and Steven paused, before responding to the wall. This was a bit awkward.

"More complicated? What? Am I possessed? Are you, like, a demon? Or..."

"You're not possessed, Steven. Whatever, whoever, you are talking to is not a demon. I would have known." You interrupted. Steven paused for a moment, glancing at you, the wall, and back at you. You didn't mean to interrupt him from whatever conversation he was having. You were afraid you had said something wrong by the silence that followed. "Sorry. I didn't-"

"He says I shouldn't have brought you..." he glanced at the wall again.

You stopped.

"What? Why?"

"Marc said that I'm putting you in danger." He looked at you with a remorseful expression.

You blinked. Danger or not you cared about him. Steven was your friend, and whatever he was going through, at the very least didn't have to go through it alone. The fact that this Marc was trying to get you to leave unsettled you. Both he and the bird-man wanted their connection to Steven to stay buried.

"Look, Steven, as long as you want me to be here I'll stay. Regardless of the bird, or Marc, I don't plan to leave anytime soon because of them." You caught a brief glimmer of relief in Steven's eyes before he turned back to the wall, continuing his conversation.

"Sleep... I'm never gonna go to sleep again. You hear me? Look, I don't care how bloody handsome you are. Tell me what it is you are. What are you?" He paused again for an inaudible response.

"Khonshu? The Egyptian god of the moon? Oh, my God, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I eat one piece of steak, and then, bam, I go bonkers."

What on earth did an ancient Egyptian deity have to do with any of this? You wondered.

A slight breeze caught your attention as it ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but think of the entity. It felt older than anything you had encountered before, ancient. It felt more powerful than most spirits. And it looked suspiciously mummy-like. But that certainly didn't make it an Egyptian god. You shook your head, discarding that thought, and turned back to Steven.

Steven paused, "Oh, God. I'm having a panic attack. I need to go to a hospital." You began to reach for him, hoping to help in some way.

"You want my body? Right, yeah. Marc, how about this for a deal? I'm gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah?" He grabbed the bag," and I'm gonna go straight to the authorities."

The lights blinked and you began to feel the presence solidify. It really wasn't happy now. "Steven- "

"And they're gonna put me away so I don't hurt anyone else."

"Steven."

"And hopefully, NHS will fill me with enough pills so that you get out of my head!" Steven took your hand, this time leading you through the hall.

"Steven!" He finally stopped and looked at you. "It's back."

Right on cue, the light at the end of the hall flickered once, two times. The entity stood, lit by the sickly yellow light before vanishing into the darkness.

Steven's hands flew to the bag and he began to walk backward slowly. The lights began to flicker faster, now moving down the hall towards you both.

Click...

You stepped back, following Steven as you kept your eyes locked on the end of the hall.

Clickclickclick.

Suddenly all you could see were bandages, rags, bone, and hollow eyes.

It stood before you, tall, menacing, and angry.

You ran.

Lights flickered.

Doors rattled.

You desperately chased after Steven, turn after turn. You could feel the annoyance, irritation, and anger rolling off the entity. You couldn't leave Steven. You couldn't let it hurt him. As you rounded a corner you saw Steven. He had stopped. You knew why. He trembled as he looked up at the entity before him. You suddenly felt annoyed. It felt slightly amused, almost entertained by his fear. And this, this pissed you off. It was terrorizing Steven at this point. It turned its head, haloed by the pale light, and for the first time you heard it speak:

"Give it back, you fool."

For a millisecond you glared at it, and the entity looked back at you. Before you could attempt to confront it you were pulled down the hallway and out of the building by a screaming Steven.

Daylight suddenly flooded your senses. You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted. You glanced down to see Steven curled up on the ground, the bag held securely in his arms.

"Marc? Where have you been?" You looked up at the source of the voice. A woman sat on a black scooter, inches from Steven. Her curly hair almost seemed to glow in the sunlight, framing her freckled face.

"Layla?" Steven looked up at her, surprise and confusion evident in his voice.

She reached out a hand to Steven and helped him up. "Who are you?" She tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowed at you.

You nervously gave her your name with a small smile. "I-I'm a friend of Steven's."

She nodded before turning back to Steven. "Okay...We need to talk."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The three of you met back up at Steven's flat. You were surprised that Steven still wanted you to stay. Layla seemed to have answers for him. You didn't know where you stood with Layla, especially finding out she was married to Marc, who may or may not also be Steven. She quite understandably regarded you with some suspicion of your relationship with him. You didn't want to make Layla upset with you, but Steven had asked you to stay and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him no.

You felt awkward, and out of the loop, so you focused on your surroundings. It was similar to your flat, with the same bathroom tile, and the large kitchen window, but it had the details that made it very much Steven's. A large map of Egypt hung by the door, framed by postcards, displaying various landmarks. You couldn't ignore the large fish tank and of course, the single goldfish that swam in it. Not-Gus, you remembered. Steven had told you about him several times, how he picked him out because of his one fin. It made him special. You couldn't help but notice the chosen tank decor. Your eyes then drifted to the large bookshelves. You knew Steven was a bit of a bookworm, you had that in common, but you were surprised to find his flat was bordering on being considered a small library. It was certainly impressive, and the trinkets scattered about it drew your eye.

They exchanged a brief conversation about poetry in French. You glanced at the large desk by the window, books in piles on the top. You smiled to yourself as you noticed the desk under it had the pyramid paperweight you got him. One book lay open, but you were unable to make out the subject. They briefly discussed, hieroglyphics, and you couldn't help but see how excited it made Steven. Layla then took out divorce papers and you felt like you really shouldn't be there. You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of disappointment in Layla's eyes as she presented them to Steven. You turned your gaze away and looked to the ground.

You looked up as Steven began to open the duffel bag. He froze suddenly, seeming to double-guess himself.

"I-it's nothing." Steven muttered as he grabbed the bag tighter.

"Nothing?" Layla asked, before shoving him aside. You furrowed your brows at this and glanced at Steven. He didn't look at you, instead, kept his eyes locked on the bag as Layla went through it. You turned your attention to the bag, wondering what about it was so important.

Holy shit!

Was that a gun?

Layla took a scarab out of the bag, opening a whole other can of worms, and feelings between them. Mainly more confusion on Steven's part. You weren't sure what to do or even think at this point, how to make sense of any of this. Honestly, you weren't quite sure what was happening anymore.

"Take it. Take it. I don't want it. I swear." Steven attempted to offer her the scarab, causing her to pause. "Have it. I am not Marc Spector. I'm Steven Grant. I work at a gift shop. I used to work at a gift shop. And I-I'm in real danger and I think you might be the only person who can help me."

She opened her mouth, preparing to respond.

"Please." He begged.

"You really don't remember why we've been looking for this?" She gently shook the scarab, " Our adventures? Or our life together?"

"Oh god I wish I could."

This whole situation was becoming more complicated by the second, so the knocking at the door was very much not welcomed by you.

"Steven Grant, can we have a word?" A muffled voice asked behind the door.

"Oh, God, they've come for me." Steven said, his eyes wide.

"Why?" Layla furrowed her brows.

"I vandalized the toilet." Layla looked at you for an explanation. You just shook your head and sighed. Best to leave it for another time.

The knocking continued.

"Yeah, just a minute." Steven scurried over to the door.

"Steven Grant?" A voice asked.

"Yeah?"

"DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here."

Your attention was drawn from the door by Layla gently taking your wrist. She put a finger to her lips before she steered you to the large window and quietly opened it. She dropped your wrist before climbing up onto the window still.

What was she doing?

You furrowed your brows, and she motioned you to follow her. You glanced back at Steven, who was still by the door, before turning back to her. Seeing the seriousness in her eyes you did, albeit hesitantly. You maneuvered behind her on the roof, back to the wall.

Gods. Oh gods. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t look down.

Layla checked on you, making sure you could stay steady before listening to the conversation inside. You couldn't make out much from your position, you were a bit preoccupied with not having a panic attack on the roof. There was something about... police...a fake passport? You hoped Steven was okay, really wishing that this could just be a big misunderstanding.

After what felt like forever, Layla turned to you after checking the window. "They took him."

"What! Did you hear where?"

"No. But if we hurry we can follow the car." You blinked, surprised at her inclusion of you. What could you do to help any of this? So far you've just been there for emotional support, but things are complicated now. Steven needed more help or support than you could offer. She held her hand out to help you back inside. You took it and hopped inside the flat before following her down several flights of stairs. Once outside, she got on her scooter and turned to you.

"You care about him right?" She asked.

She already knew the answer.

But you did.

You really did.

"Yeah, I do. Of course, I do." You said softly, nodding.

"Okay. Get on."

She gestured for you to sit behind her. You straddled the seat, your hands hovering awkwardly.

Would it be too awkward to hold onto her waist? What if she didn't want you to? You just met for the first time less than an hour ago, and are basically strangers. But that's what you were supposed to do on these things. Right?

You took a breath to stop yourself from overthinking, you had bigger things to worry about. Hesitantly, you placed your arms around her waist, leaning close to her. You almost swore you glimpsed her smirk at that as she started the scooter, causing you to tighten your hold on her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Well. This was definitely not what you expected the cult of Ammit to look like. You thought it would be more...cult-like. Weird human murder rituals, maybe some chanting in ancient Egyptian around a fire, and more focus on the devouring of hearts bit. Instead, there were community gardens, kitchens, and...indoor movie nights.

You turned to Layla from your hidden corner, both of you sharing a puzzled look as you took in the view. You scanned the crowd, attempting to find Steven. It took you a moment before you noticed him sitting at the table with another man. Harrow, you remembered Steven telling you. You couldn't make out much of the conversation. Movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. In front of you, Layla was beginning to creep forward, towards the kitchen area, scarab clenched tightly in her hand.

"Can you fight?" She turned back to you for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, a bit. Just enough to defend myself." There were at least fifty people in the room. How on earth was she going to grab Steven and get out by the two of you throwing a few punches?

"Okay." She nodded, "Good. We're going to have to try to make a run for it. Let's get Marc and get out."

You nodded, sucking in a breath as she lead you to the front of the doorway.

"Where is the scarab." You heard a voice demand.

"I have it." Layla announced, her voice echoing in the large room. She stepped forward, glancing around the room.

"Let me have it. I'll keep it safe." Harrow said, eyes locked on the golden beetle.

"There is no deal in this, Marc. Fix this. Fix this!" The bird-man was back suddenly, standing behind Steven. You peered around the entity, offering a small smile to Steven as you and Layla stopped next to him.

"Summon the Suit." Layla told Steven.

"S-sorry what?"

"Summon the suit." She looked at him confused, he didn't know what she meant.

"Summon the soup? What are you saying-"

"The suit. And keep this safe." She handed him the scarab.

"So be it." Harrow announced.

"Let's go! Let's Go!" She grabbed both you and Steven and began to drag you along.

A few people began to make their way toward you. You took a breath and clenched your fists. As the group got too close the three of you shoved them off, before breaking into a sprint. You and Steven took off after Layla up the metal stairs, footsteps thundering. You heard a thump and a sound like shattering glass, coming from the lower floor.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

Oh no.

You suddenly, and quite conveniently remembered that Steven mentioned Harrow had the ability to summon things.

"Steven!" Layla shouted. You lost sight of her as she found the corner, replaced with a man blocking the path forward. You both stopped. The chaos beginning to unfold was beginning to feel overwhelming. You risked a glance back, a group of people were making their way up the stairs. The two of you were trapped. Unsure of where to go next, you hesitated, debating whether to attempt to swing at him or face the group behind you. Steven took this chance to grab your hand and pull you past the man and up another stairway, just in time to see Layla throw someone over the railing.

"That was awesome." Steven complimented her. You nodded quickly in agreement, before sprinting after them. Maybe later you could ask Steven if you could take his wife out sometime.

As you panted, your feeling of unease returned, stronger this time. Whatever Harrow had summoned was not too far behind you. You made it through a pair of wooden doors, Steven and Layla locking them behind you.

You took a gasp of air, and looked at Steven, "Jackal."

"Oh my god," Steven muttered. "I'm going to die in an evil magician's man cave."

Layla rushed over to him. The doors began to rattle. If this was the same thing that Steven had encountered before behind a metal door, there was no way you'd stand a chance.

"No. No. Hey. Listen to me. Your name is Marc. You have a suit, I've seen you use it. You bring it out. " Steven shook his head, getting more panicked by the second

You turned your attention to the door, the rattling getting faster.

Shit.

Normal ghosts couldn't hurt you. Normal ghosts couldn't kill you. But this wasn't a ghost, or a spirit, or anything you were familiar with. You glanced around for something to use as a potential weapon.

Sarcophagi, more sarcophagi.

Chair!

You picked up the small chair. It was already well on its way to crumbling, you'd just have to help it along. You tossed it as hard as you could. The leg cracked off, thankfully just enough to serve as a short rod. You picked it up and tightened your grip around it. The rattling became louder, and faster.

"Hey, guys!" You looked at them, Steven and Layla crouched on the ground. "We don't have much longer."

Layla glanced at you, and looked around the room, in an effort to locate an exit.

"Let's go." She hopped up a ladder. You were about to follow her when the doors were flung open. The jackal let out a cry and began to run toward you and Steven. He started to back away, and you prepared to swing.

One...

Two...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the final swing.

Three-

You were thrown aside as the jackal shoved past you. You landed on your side, the wooden leg clattering against the floor.

Ow.

What ensued next happened in a blur.

You briefly registered that the jackal charged into Steven, just in time to see them both tumble out the window.

You glanced at Layla, in shock before scurrying to stand. You clutched the rod before making it down the fire escape. You begin to search the unfamiliar setting looking for Steven. You felt on edge, and ready to jump into fight or flight mode, so when you heard the splintering of wood it nearly caused you to jump out of your skin. You turned to see a white blur get thrown through a wooden gate.

The man in a completely white suit with a mask, topped with a crescent moon and glowing eyes, then immediately proceeded to rip a bumper off a car.

"Y-you look different." Layla commented. So this must be a similar suit to the one she referenced earlier.

"Steven! Look out!" As much as you'd love to comment on this surprising wardrobe change, you were busy watching as the jackal stalked up behind him.

It slammed him against a car. Layla tried to walk toward him but you grabbed her arm. She looked at you.

"Don't. It's right there."

"No! Don't try and come near me!" Steven warned as he was thrown against the car again. The jackal turned to her, letting out a deep growl and baring its teeth.

You tried to pull her away but the jackal swiped at her before you could, throwing her onto the ground, and pulling you along with her. The fall happened too quickly for you to brace yourself, and your head hit the ground. You brought a hand to the spot and hissed. You turned around when you heard glass shatter.

Layla stood by the jackal, shards of broken glass revealing it. It roared, before proceeding to take them both by the neck. You stood and felt for the rod. It was gone. You frantically looked for something you could use. Your eyes caught a glint, and you turned to see a decent-sized shard of glass. You clutched it, before making your way behind the jackal, keeping your steps quiet. It sneered at Steven as he fought against its grip, Layla attempting to do the same. You took a breath and shoved the shard into its lower back. It howled. Then it tossed them aside, before turning towards you, snarling. and doing the same. You hit the damp stone ground again and groaned.

Your attacks were barely doing anything to the creature. Without an actual weapon or a way to escape the three of you didn't stand a chance.

Your attention was caught by a scream.

Layla.

You glanced around. Finally located the wooden leg off to the side. As you clutched it, you noted the crack beginning to form. You looked back to Layla, the jackal held her by her leg. Steven charged towards it only to be knocked aside. You prepared to run towards the jackal. Only to stop, when you heard Steven shout.

"Yeah. I see you-you pug-ugly coyote. You're on the wrong ends, mate. You're in my yard now." He threw his jacket on the ground and rolled his sleeves. He had entirely too much confidence for someone who just got tossed around like a rag-doll. You looked at Layla, your confusion mirrored on her face.

"Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. My name's Steven with a 'V'!" He hit it square in the face, before exclaiming excitedly. He called to you and Layla, "Did you see that!" Right before being kicked into the street, repeatedly slammed against a bus, and falling to the ground, face first.

Ouch. You cringed.

You took a step towards him, preparing to make sure he was okay. Layla grabbed your arm and nodded towards the street. You looked back to Steven watching as he stood. His suit... changed. Strands of linen wrapped around him, ending with a hood and cape. He turned to face the two of you, eyes still glowing. You blinked, taking in the new situation. You couldn't help but notice this was the second appearance of the crescent moon on the costume. Weird.

"Get it out of here!" Layla shouted.

Steven hopped on top of a van, before climbing up a nearby building, the jackal pursuing him. A second later, he disappeared onto the roof.

Layla turned to you a few moments later. "Come on. I'll drive you home. We should probably should check that cut out. It doesn't look too good." You were a bit surprised at how calm she sounded. The three of you had just faced a dangerous entity summoned by the power of an ancient goddess. You shook lightly.

"Cut?" You asked.

Almost as if an answer, you felt a drop of warm liquid run down the side of your face. You felt it and brought your finger back to find it stained red. The adrenaline began to wear off, and you noted pounding on the side of your head.

"O-oh." You followed her, trailing behind a bit, processing what happened. "But what about Steven? The jackal?"

"He's got the suit now. He'll be okay, this isn't the first time he's done stuff like this." You nodded. The two of you turned the corner and met with the scooter. You climbed on.

The sound of shuffling behind you caught both of your attention. You turned to see a man hand a golden, and suspiciously scarab-shaped object to Harrow. He took the man's hand. You saw him convulse briefly, before dropping to the ground.

Dead.

What shocked you besides the murder that only occurred a few yards from you, was that this man's soul leave didn't leave the way you were used to. You felt a hunger from Harrow. And you had a distinct feeling that the soul had been...eaten. Consumed? But not by him. Through him. That was the only way you could attempt to explain it. Just as Harrow began to turn towards you, Layla sped off, leaving you to wonder what you had just witnessed.

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant fic #moon knight x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon boys #marc spector #jake lockley #layla el faouly #khonshu x reader #ao3 #fanfic #marvel #m #TippingTheScales #TTS

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blooming-violets · 1 year

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Creature Like Me || Chapter One: Solo Hunt

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

Chapter One Warnings: depictions of torture and starvation, depictions of a violent death, use of a gun, blood and gore, is it animal cruelty/animal death if the animal is a werewolf??

A/N: This is an OC but please keep an open mind, read a paragraph or two, before you completely write off the story because it doesn’t have a “reader” insert character. Her descriptions are fairly minimal and her name is important to the story. Pretend you’re someone else for little bit and get lost in a world that’s not your own. Isn’t that what writing is for anyway? xoxoKatie

[link to chapter index]

The morning sun beamed soft, white light through the canopy of branches to illuminate the fog settled against the dewy grass. She watched the light push away the dark shadows of the forest as she plucked a handful of blueberries out of her pocket and plopped a few into her mouth. Mornings were never her favorite despite their inherent beauty. She preferred the tranquility of the night with nothing but the glow of the moon to guide her. She kept her love for the moon to herself. Those were thoughts she wasn’t allowed to have. Her guild worshiped the sun for it was the werewolf’s natural enemy. The wolves drew their power from the moon. It made them stronger, enhanced their natural abilities, and turned them into fierce warriors. As a hunter of the beast, her guild found safety in the light, but used the cover of the dark to hunt their prey. They saw the dangers of the night where she only saw serenity.

“Aylin,” a deep, gravely voice fell over her shoulder. “Are you preparing for your hunt tonight or are you daydreaming again?”

Aylin wiped the growing scowl from her face, replacing it with a passive smile, before she turned to greet her intruder, “Sergei. Good morning to you, too.” She shoved the ziplock bag of berries back into her pocket and stood up, brushing off her damp bottom from the rotten log she was sitting on. “I’ve been preparing my whole life for my first solo hunt. There is not much else I can do but wait.”

Tonight was the night she would become a full member of the hunting party. At 21, those with the talent would be given a test. They were to track down and successfully eliminate a single werewolf on their own. Up until now, she had been hunting with a group. She participated in helping kill a total of five wolves so far. Now it was time to prove that she could be of use on her own. It was the highest honor a young person could receive in the guild.

Sergei ran a hand through his long, scraggly beard. His dark hair reached to his shoulders and hung in wild waves framing his square face. The black pelt of a werewolf hung like a shawl around his shoulders. As leader of the Silver Colt Guild, he held the respect of everyone under him. The Silver Colt’s history dated as far back as the first known existence of a werewolf. They’d been around for centuries, culling the werewolf problem the best they could before it ever reached the public eye. Sergei, known by his enemies as his alias Kraven the Hunter, inherited the guild from his father. He ran with an iron fist to keep his people safe. They were the outcasts of modern society, taking on the burden of protecting those they would never meet from the horrors of evil that walked among them.

“Being prepared does not mean you are ready to complete the actual task,” he chastised her. “Going one to one with a wolf is harder than you could ever imagine. In their wolf form, they are ten times stronger than you could ever be. In their human form, they are the master of manipulation. They would say or do anything to keep you from slaughtering them. The second you let your guard down, they will strike. There will be no help to back you up. Failing means death. A beast won’t hesitate to rip you limb from limb. Mindless, heartless killers. They are not guided by morals. They will not hesitate. I don’t want to lose you tonight.”

Aylin held her tongue for fear of talking back. Sergei always got under her skin. Still, she believed he deserved the title of their leader and, therefore, was worthy of her respect. He was easily the best hunter of them all. He could take out a wolf with nothing but his bare hands. No one else was able to compete with his sheer strength. At times, he seemed almost like an enhanced human himself. She often wondered where he pulled his abilities from, though she would never dare question him. He was a good leader but a boastful one. His hubris clashed with her humbled outlook. Aylin had no need for cockiness. She believed one’s skills should silently speak for themselves. There was no need to talk herself up. She knew what she could do and that should be enough.

“If you are successful tonight then I could see you entering as the frontrunner to become my protégé,” he raised his thick brows at her, as if that was supposed to be the most enticing offer of her lifetime. “Don’t let me down.”

The leader of the guild would always choose the strongest new hunter to personally train. She would be forced to move into Sergei and his wife’s home to study his every move. Whoever was chosen as the leader’s protégé would one day take over as leader themselves. Some of her peers would slaughter each other for the chance to claim that title. Aylin saw it as a chore. Calypso, Sergei’s wife, was someone she’d rather avoid. The woman could easily stand on her own with her husband but didn’t possess an ounce of empathy. She was cruel, boarding on psychopathic, and the thought of having to live under the same roof as her sent a bolt of dread through Aylin’s nerves. She had no desire to lead anyone, either. All she wanted was to sit in her quiet woods, undisturbed, but there was no point in arguing over a centuries old tradition. If Sergei chose her then that’s what she would have to do.

“I think I’ll be alright. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been tracking this wolf for some time. She works as a night security guard up at the old Eagle Peak Camp. I’m not entirely sure what she’s guarding there but, whatever is, I’ll be sure to report back to you with what I find. I think it’s where a pack has been meeting. If I can get information on them, our guild could potentially eliminate an entire group in one go. She’ll be an easy enough target for my first solo hunt. There shouldn’t be any civilians around and there's a lot of places to take cover. All my weapons are prepped and ready. I’ve been training for months. I will come back with her silver pierced heart in my hand. I’m confident in this.” She straightened her spine as she spoke to appear taller than she was in an attempt to see eye to eye with Sergei. He towered over anyone he stood in front of and she didn’t like feeling small.

He gave a light hearted chuckle and slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side, and dwarfing her against his large body, “I believe you. I’m the one who trained you, remember? I know you have the skill. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you anyway.” The coarse fur of the wolf pelt tumbling down his shoulders tickled her cheek as he held her close. “Your mother is looking for you. She made you breakfast. Let me walk you back to town and we can discuss your strategies for tonight once more.”

Even as she stood crouched under the shadows of a large pine tree, Aylin silently trailed her fingers over each of her weapons. She’d taken count of each one about fifty times in the last hour but it still helped quell her nerves. The tree she took shelter under protected her from the downpour of rain as she raised her binoculars to observe her surroundings. Eagle Peak was once a bustling summer destination for hundreds of children, aged 6 to 16, to attend a four week camp program in the mountains. Their days were filled with non stop fun canoeing on the lake, hiking through the forests, singing around a campfire, and making a lifetime of memories. That was until the wolf incident of ‘74. Three campers were found torn apart, their cabin broken into, and their bloodied bodies dragged out into the forest. Their deaths were chalked up to a pack of rabid wolves which had wandered into camp. While the pack was never actually found, the camp still closed down. Children being mutilated while they slept didn’t send out a great impression to other potential camp goers. The Silver Colt’s knew the truth. It wasn’t rabid wolves. At least, not how the public perceived it to be. One of the counselors was a beast in disguise. He was slain by Sergei’s father in the summer of ‘75. Sergei still wears the necklace of claws his father made after tearing them from the counselor's paws before he drove a silver dagger into the beast’s blackened heart.

The camp had sat abandoned for years, left for nature to reclaim, until a private owner bought out the land. That was when the suspicion began. Hikers were going missing more often than usual. Strange howls could be heard at night. A heavy sense of foreboding hovered in the night air. The werewolves were making a return and it was up to Aylin’s people to stop them. Tonight, she would start their quest by taking out the guard and retrieving as much information as she could.

From the outskirts she couldn’t see much. She’d been staking out this location for weeks. Besides the patrolling woman, she never saw anyone else move around the camp while she was there, but it was clear that there was something worth guarding. She would need to infiltrate closer to get a better look. While the night rain ruined her views, the sound would help mask her footsteps. Werewolves had particularly precise hearing. Sergei purposely chose a rainy night for her first hunt and she would take any advantage she could get.

Aylin mentally planned out her route. The main lodge sat in a large clearing overlooking the lake. A crack of lightning pierced through the clouds and reflected off the darkened waters. It was the only source of light she would have tonight as the moon was blanketed behind the storm. Surrounding the lodge on either side was a small office building and a nurse’s station. The lavatories were a little ways behind the main lodge and, down a wooded dirt path, held the bulk of the camper’s cabins. According to her old map, they used to refer to the cabin’s sleeping area as the Whispering Pines. A boathouse sat on the lake, still fully stocked with rotting canoes. That was thirteen buildings in total. She would have to search each one before she returned home. Once her target was removed, it would allow her the time she needed to properly investigate for any details on the pack that roamed these areas.

Sierra Molina was who Aylin was currently searching for. A 28 year old, gorgeous woman with thick, long black hair who moved to upper New York three years ago. She started out as a model in the city, gaining a good amount of success, when she suddenly switched career paths. A successful model in the big city to a solitary, private security guard for an abandoned summer camp in the Adirondack Mountains could only mean one thing. She was a wolf. She wasn’t born one, she was bitten. That was Aylin’s theory, at least. It would have been hard for a wolf to have a career in the limelight. Wolves and cities don’t usually mix unless they’re using them as a hunting ground. That would mean, at some point three years ago, a wolf managed to find its way into the city. It was growing its pack and Sierra was merely a victim of the beast. Victim or not, she had to die.

There was not much luck for Aylin tonight. She had yet to catch sight of the woman. The heavy storm was probably compelling her to keep shelter in one of the buildings. A light was on in the back of the main lodge so she placed her bets on that. She wouldn’t be able to take her out with an easy scope shot. She’d need to get in closer.

Aylin took a deep inhale, preparing herself, and stepped out from the protective shadows of her pine tree. Her old leather boots lost traction as she descended down a slippery slope towards the main lodge. The grass turned to slick mud under her and she silently cursed as she felt the cold, wet dirt coat down her side as she skidded to a halt at the bottom. If anything, the mud might help hide her scent too, though it made it harder to grip her weapons. She did her best to wipe her hands off on her black combat pants before continuing.

She kept her body ducked low while she gave a light jog towards the lodge. There wasn’t much she could do about the squelching mud under her feet. All she could hope for was that the rain hammering on the roof was loud enough to cover whatever sounds she couldn’t hide. The second she reached the lodge, she pressed her back against the dark wooden panels. Her hand grabbed behind her to pull the crossbow from her back. She carefully loaded it with a silver tipped arrow, letting the rumbling thunder overhead mask the sounds. The crossbow was her weapon of choice. It was fast, powerful, and quieter than a gun. Unlike the colt revolver strapped to her thigh, she had more stealth advantages with this. The gun was for the final blow if she needed the added weight and her dagger was her very last chance of survival should things come down to hand to hand combat. She was no Sergei. Her strengths lay in long range and stealth.

Aylin moved along the length of the outer wall until she was perched under a cracked open window. From inside, she could hear someone moving around. The smell of cooking chicken hit her nose. This must be the kitchen of the lodge and where her target was taking shelter.

Sierra spoke to someone inside as she banged around the room, slamming cabinets in her wake, “I think he needs more food. The man is wasting away. Kateri hardly ever feeds him. I don’t know how she expects him to keep on giving her what she wants if he’s nothing but skin and bone.”

She waited, listening for a secondary person to reply. When she heard none, it gave her the confidence to know that Sierra was still the only here. She was on the phone.

“Yeah, I know it keeps him weak, but it’s also killing him. Call me crazy but I actually feel sorry for the bastard. I’m the one who ends up having to take care of him. He’s not my pet! If she’s so obsessed with him, you’d think she would actually take better care of him. It wouldn’t hurt to bathe him either. He’s starting to really stink. I wish Kateri would actually do something about that. The whole cabin is disgusting. I hate having to go in there.” The name Kateri was new to her but, the way Sierra talked about her, made it seem like she was the one who called the shots. The name of the pack's potential alpha. “Maybe I’ll let him run around in the rain for a bit. Let the storm hose him down.” Sierra laughed, “I’m joking! Calm down. I’m not going to let him out. He wouldn’t know what to do out of chains anyway. Kat’s got him fully conditioned to be her omega bitch.”

Aylin silently shifted her crossbow to get a better feel for it in her hands. Her curiosity peaked at the thought of who they were speaking about. It sounded as if they currently had someone hostage. She didn't dare peak through the open window for fear of being seen.

“I cooked him some chicken. Kat can scream about it all she wants. He needs the protein. I didn’t even season it or anything. Just straight up dry chicken. What’s sad is that it’ll probably be the best damn meal he’s had in a year. Better than the dog food she’s been forcing him to eat.” The sound of her zipping up a bag reached Aylin’s ears. She was getting ready to move. “I’m going to even brave the rain for this loser. See? I’m not a heartless bitch after all. Who would have guessed? I’ll talk to you later, babes, once I’m back inside. See ya.”

The sound of Sierra's footsteps disappearing followed the end of the phone call. This was her chance to move. Aylin crept around the side of the building, crossbow held up at the ready in front of her. She watched from the shadows as Sierra popped out the door and into the rain. Her peripheral vision was covered by the large, dark green hood of her rain jacket pulled loosely over her head. She wore a black bag over her shoulder as she jogged towards the Whispering Pines. She had no idea that she was now actively being hunted.

Aylin’s heart began to race as she trailed after her prey. When she joined the hunting party on their excursion to take out other wolves, they had already been in wolf form by the time she caught sight of them. Large, raggedy, snarling beasts. Blood had dripped from their jowls and matted into their wild, unkempt fur. They had been untamed, savage, violent creatures. It was easy to see them as a predator in need of putting down. They weren’t human.

Sierra Molina was human. At least, how she looked now. A beautiful woman trying to make it big as a model. Her dreams of the future were snatched from her at the hands of true evil. She was dragged up to the mountains and forced into a new life. She ran through the rain, her shoulders hunched up in her oversized coat, her body shivering from the cold, to bring food to whatever neglected hostage her alpha had locked up. She was going against her orders to feed the poor soul. An act of kindness. A very human act.

Her stomach ached at the thought of having to look this woman in the eyes as she killed her. She’d rather her be a wolf. It would be more dangerous but slaughtering an animal was better than murdering a human. The reality of what she was about to do came crashing down around her. The fear set in.

Aylin slowed her pace, ducking behind a tree. Sergei was right, the rain would help easily conceal her from all sounds and smells. Sierra had no idea she was being followed. It felt almost unfair. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do this anymore. She was born into this life. Raised to be a killer. It should be easy. She shouldn’t be this sacred. Fear and doubt were weaknesses. Those weaknesses should have been beaten out of her as a child yet they somehow still prevailed, stronger than ever.

As her prey approached the last cabin along the path, the one tucked further back into the forest than the rest, Aylin raised her crossbow and took aim. There was no time for over thinking or panic. She had to act on instinct. This was her moment. It was now or never. She couldn’t return home without a wolf’s heart in her hand. She couldn’t fail her people.

This was it.

The familiar, loud thwip of the bolt leaving its home echoed off the trees. Before Sierra even had time to react to the sound, the silver tip buried itself straight into her lower spine with a sickly, crunching thud of bones being ripped apart. She dropped hard and fast. Crumbled to the ground in a heap, her bag slipping from her shoulders to fall beside her broken body. Her piercing howl of pain filled the air. Aylin made quick work to start loading up the next bolt while she still had the element of surprise on her side.

“My legs,” Sierra cried out. “I can’t feel my legs! I can’t move them. Please. Help! Someone help!” Her pleas for rescue were useless. There was nobody around to listen but Aylin. Her body flopped onto her side, teary, terrified eyes desperately searching for her assailant. “Who are you? What do you want?! What have you done? You-”

Aylin approached, a black cowl mask hiding her lower face, and the end of the crossbow pointed at the other woman. Her target was in sight but she wasn’t ready to pull the final trigger just yet. She wanted her to turn. She needed to see the beast before she took her life. It was the only way she'd be able to follow through.

Sierra caught sight of the golden, rising sun emblem carefully stitched into Aylin’s dark jacket. Realization flashed across her spasming face, contorting between pain and fury, “You.” Her voice lowered into a dangerous rumble. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Her words spit like fire out of her mouth. “That sun. You’re one of Kraven’s hunters! Kateri said you would come eventually. You have no idea how this will end for you. You have no idea what you’re walking into!”

A low, threatening growl thundered in the back of her throat. It was followed by a quieter whimper like she knew how this was going to end for her. She was scared. A cornered animal ready to go down fighting. Death was the only future she held. Her pupils began to stretch, causing her tawny colored eyes to fill with a voidless obsidian until there were no remnants of her human soul. The growl grew deeper, more animalistic, as she started to shift.

“That’s it,” Aylin whispered to herself. “Turn for me. Show me who you really are.”

Like a firework bursting in the night sky, Sierra’s body exploded into a massive wolf with an angry howl, sending shreds of her green rain jacket and a spray of water droplets flying into the air. She nearly tripled in size. Silky, jet black fur, as beautiful as her own head of hair, settled down into place as her transformation completed. Saliva clung to her thick, pointed ivory teeth, black lips pulled back into a snarl, and her ears pressed flat against her skull. Steam puffed from her panting jaws, highlighting the chill in the air. She was savage. Desperate. Ready to kill. Her blackened sights set directly onto Aylin.

This was the beast she was ready to hunt. This was exactly what she had trained for. Sierra Molina no longer existed. In her place was a raging, furious wolf ready to be slain. There was no more need for humanity for she was not human. A hunter and her prey. A tale as old as time.

Sierra’s hind quarters remained crumbled under the weight of her body like a stray dog who had been hit by a car. They were as useless to her in wolf form as they were to her as a human. Aylin had managed to sever her spine with her first hit, rendering her weaker and taking away some of her power. It didn’t make her any less dangerous, though. She lunged at the younger girl, thrusting her massive body down the muddy path towards her as claps of loud thunder cheered on the upcoming fight. The muscular power of her front legs dragged her forward in jerky, pained movements, back legs dangling helplessly behind her. The coarse fur of her hackles stood on end. Teeth bared. She was ready to die fighting.

Aylin released the trigger. The bolt shot out like a bullet and lodged itself deep into her foe's shoulder. The silver tip sizzled in her thick skin, the metal burning into her flesh. She doubled over with a howled cry, whipping her enlarged head back and forth in an attempt to reach the burning arrow piercing her skin with her long snout. While she fought with the pain, Aylin quickly tried to reload her bow. She had the arrow half way in, foot holding down the stirrup, and desperately trying to force the strong string back into position when Sierra noticed she was distracted. Ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder and crippled back legs, she lunged herself at Aylin.

The force knocked her to the ground, tossing her bow off to the side, and pushing the air out of her lungs. The heavy weight of the wolf pressed down on her chest. The smell of wet dog filled her nostrils as Sierra leered down over her. Steamy, hot breath blew in her face. Black, leathery lips pulled back to reveal snarling teeth. For a breathless moment, Sierra thought she had the upper hand.

And then a loud, cracking pop rang out, breaking the wooded silence, sending a flurry of terrified birds out of the trees and straight to the stormy sky.

In Aylin’s hand was the colt revolver, slipped out from her thigh harness, already prepped and loaded with silver bullets, now pointed directly under the wolf’s jaw.

The bullet shot straight through Sierra’s thick skull, ripping through her brain, and forcing a bloody exit out the other end. A cloud of misty, hot crimson rained down onto Aylin’s face. Bits of fleshy brain matter scattered to the ground around her. A sharp fragment of Sierra’s rose tinted skull bounced off her forehead, slicing her skin, and tumbled into the mud. The wolf went completely still, the life snuffed straight out of her, as her heavy body slumped on top of Aylin, pinning her in place.

The silence that followed was deafening. Not even the rumbling thunder or shower of rain seemed to dare make noise. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears. The echo of the gunshot reverberating inside her skull.

Her heart was racing. Her lungs struggled to breath under the weight on top of her. Her mind desperately tried to catch up with the events that just unfolded.

Her first solo hunt. Her first kill.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, protected from the shower of blood thanks to her mask. The rain slowly washed the rest of the red from her vision.

She had done it.

She had killed a werewolf.

She was alive. She was the victor.

Aylin let out a grunt, grasping a fistful of Sierra’s fur in her shaky hands, as she wiggled her body out from under the enormous carcass. The slippery mud helped assist her as she slid her legs out of the furry prison. Her clothes were soaked through. Mud, rain, and blood all mixed together to seep into her frozen skin. She forced herself onto her feet and took a stumbled step backwards to examine her work.

Sierra remained in wolf form after her death. They rarely ever changed back once their life was gone. Despite her blown open skull, she looked rather peaceful. Cute, even, if you looked from the right angles. Like a giant, sleeping puppy. They were beautiful creatures, werewolves. It was hard not to respect their strength and power. Sierra still nearly got the upper hand even with her paralyzed hind legs and silver burning her flesh. If it hadn’t been for the colt, she probably would have won.

Death suited her, Aylin concluded.

She turned from the corpse to pick up her crossbow off the ground and slung it back over her shoulder. She took a moment to gather herself, both her racing thoughts and her scattered belonging, before she attempted to continue. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made it difficult to think straight. The wolf was dead, the major threat eliminated, but there was still work that needed to be done. Cabins needed to be searched. Clues needed to be found. And a heart needed to be cut out as proof of her win.

Aylin shuffled over to the bag Sierra had dropped. It lay at the bottom steps of the smallest cabin. A simple, faded, forest green wooden shack. While the other sleeping quarters looked like they could hold at least ten people total, this one could probably only handle four. She bent down to unzip the bag. A clear tupperware of cooked chicken, a bottle of water, and a ring full of keys were all that remained inside. Aylin glanced up to the cabin. That was where Sierra was headed to deliver the dinner. That was where they were keeping their pet.

She snatched up the ring of keys and made her accent up the rotting wooden stairs. A screen door filled with holes stood in front of her. Behind it was another, solid metal door. It looked out of place, newer than everything else, as if someone had specifically installed it within the past year. A heavy padded lock bolted it shut. The kind of lock meant to keep something in. She tested out each key until she found the perfect fit. The lock popped open and she slid over the dead bolt, allowing the door to slowly creak open, unsure of what she would find on the other side.

The thick stench of musty sweat hit her nose as her eyes adjusted to the dark. It was pitch black inside. The windows had been boarded up and covered with heavy, old blankets. They would keep out the light and help dampen any noise. A set of two wooden bunk beds stood on opposite sides of the walls, built straight into the floor, but Aylin’s attention sought to what was chained between them.

A man was naked, crouched on his knees, back curved forward, and head hung low. He was facing the blank wall across from her. His arms hung up above his head and stretched out to the side, forced into place by the bulky chains around each wrist. The sickly pale skin under the wide cuffs was rubbed raw. A trickle of dried blood caked down his forearm. His back was covered in a myriad of scars. Welts from a whip. Some new. Some old. All painful. She could see the perfect ridge of his spine protruding from under the scarred skin, each vertebrae clearly on display. The marks of a starving, tortured man.

He head jerked to the side when he heard the creak of the floorboard as she took another step inside. His hair was down to his shoulders and hung in wild, greasy, matted stands. His skin was speckled with dirt and old, dried blood. Wheezing breaths struggled out his lungs.

Aylin breathed through her mouth, trying to keep her nose blocked from the horrible smell wafting off of him. The closer she got, the worse it became. Not even her mask could help block the smell. He had been locked in this room for a long time, rotting away with no flow of air, no sunlight, nothing.

“What have they done to you?” She whispered, horrified by what she was seeing. “Who are you?”

The sounds of shifting chains filled the quiet shack as he came more alert. She stayed in the shadows behind him, just out of his eye sight while he tried to crane his head around to see who was speaking. This was a new voice, one unfamiliar to him.

“Who are you?” He croaked. His voice was deep and scratchy like a rusty tool he no longer had any use for.

“I asked you first.” She listened to the sound of the rain hammering against the wooden roof. It helped soothe the quickened pace of her heart. “Are you one of them? Do you…belong to them?” A pet. That’s what Sierra had called him.

She had only been taught how to kill wolves, not what to do when she encountered a hostage they were keeping. This was new, uncharted territory. Sergei would probably want her to kill him and move on with her task, get home safe without any added baggage. Her mother would tell her to free the starving man and find him help, her humanity being more important than a flawless hunt. She chewed on her lip, silently weighing her options.

The man gave a breathy, weak laugh. It sounded dark and ominous.

“I…belong to them…yes.” He hesitated, defeat dripping in his tone. “Are you here to kill me? Please say yes.”

Aylin swallowed, unsure. Was she? Her hand was clutched to the hilt of her knife. He could be dangerous. Or useful. There had to be a reason why a pack of wolves had him locked up. He belonged to them but was he one of them? It didn’t sound like he was part of the pack. A rival, maybe? Whoever he was, he wanted to die. He wanted her to kill him. Her heart sank in her chest. He looked so weak. His head had fallen back against his slumped over chest, his neck unable to support it upright for long. They had tortured him, starved him, until he was a broken shell.

She took a deep breath and pulled her knife from the holster. He shuddered at the sound. She held it at the ready as she crept closer, ducking under one of his chains, to stand directly in front of him. He lifted his tired head to look at her. Her eyes widened at the horrors. Gaunt, pale cheeks caked in dirt. Untamed, wild hair like a mane framing his skeletal face. Dark, sagging circles embedded around hollow, red tinted eyes. His scraggly chestnut beard stuck out in all directions to hide his dry, chapped, pale lips. Every rib stood out against his grimy chest. She forced her eyes from traveling down any further, wanting to allow the naked man whatever shred of dignity he had left.

“Well?” He asked again, watery eyes boring into her. “Are you going to kill me or not?”

Aylin locked her gaze with his. It was the look of hope that softened his sharp features that simultaneously broke her heart and made up her mind.

“No,” she declared.

She couldn’t kill him. She didn’t care who he was or what he had done. Anyone chained up and begging for death deserved a second chance.

A frown darkened his sweat dripped brow, “You're a hunter, aren’t you? I know that symbol on your coat. I heard you outside. You killed Sierra. That’s what you do. You kill werewolves.”

Aylin nodded, “Yes.”

“Then kill me,” he stated. The finality of his statement settled in the stale air around them.

He was a werewolf.

She should kill him. She should hate him. She should claim his life as a second victory. Two for one. It would secure her spot as Sergei’s protégé. She would be revered as a hero. A future candidate to lead the Silver Colts. Her destiny would be written in stone.

Which was exactly why she wouldn’t.

When she didn’t respond, he clenched his jaw, anger flashing across his broken eyes, “Kill me! I’m one of them! Do what you’re supposed to do and kill me!” He threw himself at where she stood, unflinching. The chains caught him before he could reach her and yanked him back into place as a sob escaped him. The fight immediately left his body. He was too weak. He curled up as best as he could with his arms hung weakly above his head. He let out a pathetic whimper. “Please…do it…please…” He whined. “Please. Help me. Make it end. Let it be over.”

He was a werewolf. A predator. A freak of nature. The one thing she was supposed to despise most in this world. Her enemy. The one she vowed to eliminate even if it cost her own life. She was raised to do this. Raised to be a killer.

“No,” she whispered.

It’s not a fair fight. He was too weak. Bound to chains. Already beaten into submission. She’d have to be a monster to pierce his heart now. He was supposed to be the monster. Not her. The plans of what to do next began swirling around in her mind. Crazy, ridiculous, unheard of plans.

Aylin slipped her knife back into its holster. She had made up her mind. She was going to take him. Steal him from the pack. Bring him back with her. Hide him away from her people. Use him to get information. He was weak enough that she could control him. In the state he was in, his fragile mind could be easily manipulated. It was insane, yes, but it was her plan and her mind was set on it.

The ring of keys were still stuck inside the lock of the door. She ducked back under his arm chain and retrieved them, starting to test each key until she found the right one, while he studied her with a quiet, sleepy, curiosity. She carefully unlocked each cuff, setting him loose.

The wolf man fell to the ground the second his arms were free. He crumpled into the fetal position, chest heaving, unable to do much more in his feeble state. Aylin squatted down in front him. His knees were more raw than his wrists, almost worn down to the bone, as if he had to spend most of his time on them. It was then that she noticed his pelvic region. She only took notice because it stood out. While the rest of him was covered in grime, his pelvis was meticulously clean. Spotless. Perfectly cleared of any dirt, sweat, or blood. She couldn’t see anything more revealing as he tucked into himself but it was an odd observation, the kind that made her stomach lurch. Whoever Kateri was, she only seemed to care about one specific part of him. This hostage had a purpose. One she was going to take away from them. Cut off their supply and use him to lure them out into the open.

He was the key to eliminating the entire pack.

“What’s your name?” She asked softly. She could pretend to be nice, gain his trust, have him work for her. She could use him to bend her guild in the right direction. Think of all the information that could be learned by having an actual werewolf on their side.

He peaked his eyes out at her, his lids hanging heavy like he hadn’t slept in days, “It’s-” He hesitated, having to think, to try and remember that part of himself. A part he lost long ago. “Uh, it's…Peter….yeah, that’s it. Peter.” Even though he was free, he made no attempts to move. Completely broken like an abused, unleashed dog sticking close to his master because he knew of nothing else. Kindness didn’t exist in his world. All he knew was pain and suffering.

She reached out her hand, gently placing it against his cheek, even as he flinched and cowered away, she held steady, “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter.” She removed her hand from his scraggly beard and tugged down the dark cowl and mask to reveal the rest of her face for him to see, “My name is Aylin. I am a hunter but not to you. You no longer belong to these sadistic people. Now, you belong to me.”

[Chapter Two]

A/N: A reblog will automatically put you onto the chapter two tag list. If you enjoyed what you read, please leave a comment! It would make this writer very happy and more likely to continue writing. I hope you have a lovely night/evening/morning/afternoon/day.

Tag List: @liz-allyn @mrshipsmcgee @sincericida @moonyslove78

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mxtxfanatic · 2 years

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While I initially believed that Xie Lian was derailed from destroying Yong’an by a random act of kindness, upon further reflection, I don’t think Xie Lian would have gone through with the destruction, whether that old man had stopped to talk to him or not.

The thing about tgcf is it’s about a person still being their core self, whether they are at the highest or lowest point in their life. We see Xie Lian at his highest point: a beloved prince revered by all who ascends to godhood and is personally taken under the wing of the heavenly emperor, who is extremely moral. Then we see his descent into his lowest point: betrayed by the people he abandoned the heavens to protect, abandoned one by one by his loved ones, watching his kingdom descend into civil war before ceasing to exist, all the while he has his faith in himself and his morals tested over and over again. And by the end, you think Bai Wuxiang has successfully broken Xie Lian, shown him that being moral and upright has no benefits because everyone you love will leave you anyways, so why not use your power to oppress instead? Except, Xie Lian doesn’t.

He gets real close to it, sure, when he collects the spirits of his dead soldiers to release in Yong’an as payback for destroying Xianle, but I don’t believe he was ever truly going to go through with it. If we break down that series of events, we see that Xie Lian collects those spirits with “full intention” of releasing them… except he doesn’t. He specifically does not do this when it would have been the quickest and easiest route to revenge, and instead, makes a stipulation to himself that he will spare the people if at least one person shows him an act of kindness by removing the sword he has impaled himself on from his body. By Xie Lian’s own stipulations, a people who are so self-centered and callous as to not help a stranger are deserving of destruction, so he would be justified in releasing the human face disease. And what happens next?

Nobody helps him.

Sure, some people contemplate it, but those people are easily dissuaded away from his aid and nobody helps him before his deadline. So Xie Lian gets up and is preparing to “enact his revenge,” except the moment he rises, an old man comes up, talks to him for a little, and gifts him his own used bamboo hat. Originally, I thought this was the moment that made Xie Lian see the humanity in mortals again, but that isn’t true. What Xie Lian was trying to convince himself of was the inhumanity of mortals and that that inhumanity was deserving of destruction, but that is not a belief he has at the core of him, so he couldn’t commit. In the same way that the people who were easily dissuaded from helping him didn’t actually want to help him and were just looking for someone else to confirm their base instinct to stay away, so too does Xie Lian want even the smallest crumb to dissuade him away from this genocide that his own morality rails again. Had that man not shown up to talk to him, Xie Lian’s turning point might have been watching some children peacefully play or watching travelers share food and a tale or watching strangers display small kindnesses to each other. The old man was his confirmation in the story, but it didn’t have to be the old man, because Xie Lian would have turned away from his path of revenge for any reason. (On that note, he is then affirmed in his decision to save the people when those same people refuse to commit violence against him in the face of death to save themselves, a reversal of an earlier scene.)

In conclusion, at his highest and lowest points, Xie Lian cannot conceive of himself using his power and authority to destroy others for his own petty reasons because that isn’t who he is at the core of him, and what he needed in that moment was just the validation in himself to see that being good was still worth personal tragedy, as long as you helped someone and could prevent more suffering. Because tgcf is about being yourself and being able to remain true to yourself in the face of adversity, not about random kindness saving the day.

#tgcf #xie lian does get punished though by being led to believe that #his hubris killed wuming his greatest supporter #but he’s again validated by discovering that wuming is actually hua cheng #and all the good things he did during his second banishment that led to bad outcomes for him #have better (if not good) conclusions during his third ascension #all the chickens come home to roost and it isn’t a bad thing #human metas mxtx

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jknerd · 8 months

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NIMH AU: Jenner

Full Name: Jenner Winford

Species: Human -> IM-Human (through experiment in NIMH)

Age: 40~41

Gender: Male

Other names: Commander Winford

Occupations: Military commander (formerly), Minister of Military arms in Bund of NIMH

Residence: 1st Bund of NIMH

Family: Racso Winford (long lost son; presumed dead), unnamed wife (deceased)

Relationships: Nicodemus (his leader; formerly), Jonathan Brisby (acquaintance-> enemy), Justin (rival->enemy), Sullivan (his henchmen; formerly), Mr. Ages (acquaintance->enemy), Ministers of the Bund (acquaintances)

Likes: His position, revenge on NIMH/human war criminals, power, lust, old bund of NIMH, Elizabeth Brisby (his object of obsession) Dislikes: NIMH, his family killed by NIMH, Nicodemus’ “suffocatingly” pacifistic ideals, any of IM-Humans following Nicodemus, the moving plan

Jenner Winford was a military commander during war and in the Bund, he was a minister of Military Arms. At one point, he used to have a wife who died of childbirth and had a son named Racso who was raised with love and care by him. However at the hardship of war, Jenner and his son was captured and sent to the NIMH along with other soldiers where he become an IM-Human through experiment as the Bund was founded in a land where he promised his son to build their new house at. However, as Jonathan helped him and others escaped, Jenner returned to his career as commander and with his newfound strength and intelligence in warfare, the enemy troops retreated. But, Jenner received a news that his son—who was 11 at that time—was killed by tortures in concentration camp of NIMH, hence the villainy of Jenner began with lament and anger.

With new rank as minister of Military Arms in Bund, a newfound hatred of humans, growing rage and vengeance against NIMH, he Jenner was obsessed with murdering whoever related with the NIMHs, even torturing NIMH scientists’ families to death and was consumed with lust for power to become a Prime Minister of the Bund. Once a year he would visit the very spot where he wanted to build a house with his son to remind himself in determination to keep the Bund protected from humans. At one point, he overheard Nicodemus discussing with Mr. Ages, Justin and Jonathan about moving the bund. Jenner was against the idea and had occasional heated argument with Jonathan. The last time they have spoken to one another, Jonathan told him his murderous rage on humans was not what late Racso would have wanted and told him to let go of the past.

Year after the death of Jonathan Brisby, Jenner returned victorious with the war against enemy nations and had gathered quite amount of followers within the Bund as a group who prefer to stay instead of moving it to the Thorn Valley. When encountering Jonathan’s widow, Jenner was briefly taken back of the unheard news of Jonathan having a wife and children. However, he smelt the opportunity and expressed hospitality to Elizabeth Brisby. He was aware Nicodemus would actively partake in moving the Brisby house with his magic, so he’d use that opportunity to finally get rid of Nicodemus, taking over the position as Prime Minister of the Bund and expand its territory to make the entire nation his. Through these days, he actually developed obsession towards Elizabeth Brisby, but unable to approach her as she was with Justin most of the time.

When at the day of moving, Jenner had his men immobilize the Brisby mansion by destroyed Jonathan’s magical trinkets and the enchanted strings of Jeremy, successfully severed the pact between Elizabeth and the crow spirit as the house’s weight crushed Nicodemus to death. When Elizabeth returned with a news of NIMH approaching next day, Jenner swiftly took control of situations by announcing that he would declare war on NIMH and the humans that follows the inhumane organizations. Holding her children and majority of IM-Humans as hostages through his men, Jenner abducted Elizabeth away persuading her to stay in the old Bund with him, even attempt to gaslight her into believe this could be what Jonathan wanted; his family stay in the Bund he founded. Seeing the true colors of him, Elizabeth refused firmly. When Jenner was about to rape her, he was stopped by Justin in time as Sullivan brought him to them. Enraged at the betrayal, Jenner severely wounded Sullivan as he and Justin engaged into sword fight. Recognizing the sword once belonged to Jonathan and its blade matched with same cutting traces from the immobilized house, Justin angrily called him out as murderer of two occasions; Jonathan’s and Nicodemus’. Jenner bitterly admitted that he indeed killed Jonathan and Nicodemus, claiming the two were trying to destroy the community he tried so hard to protect as he finished he had learned to “take WHATEVER he can, WHEN he can”. However, Justin disarmed and wounded him before going back to Elizabeth. When Jenner was about to finish him, wounded Sullivan threw his dagger and managed to stab Jenner on the back through his heart, causing the corrupt IM-Human to fall to his death at the similar spot he died; only the difference, is that while Jonathan was found dead in the arms of Virgin Mary’s statue, Jenner was found dead below the same statue.

Posthumously, Jenner was labeled as community traitor. But, Nicodemus concluded that he is a fallen man consumed with wrath on himself and the broken heart of being away from his long lost son that made him vulnerable in temptations for power and revenge. At the end, however days after the Brisby family’s departure, it was revealed Jenner’s son Racso was not dead, but actually has been alive and become an IM-Human.

#The Secret of NIMH #The Secret of NIMH AU #NIMH #NIMH AU #Jenner #humanized #Mrs. Brisby and the Bund of NIMH #Mrs. Brisby and the Bund of NIMH AU

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justanotherthrowaway1950 · 2 years

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Fire Lord Zuko's Life Sucks

A lot of ink has been spilled on how terrible Zuko’s life was, especially pre-banishment, until he realized that his father and his father’s regime were irredeemably evil, thus allowing him to finally escape the grasp of his abusive family and help usher in a world based on peace and love, not death and fear.

But in my opinion, I think Fire Lord Zuko's life post-Smoke and Shadow is almost as bad, if not worse considering the stakes, as his life pre-turning on Ozai. Especially if you take a moment to analyze the post-Smoke and Shadow status quo from his perspective.

Highly abusive father who has tried to kill multiple times and hated you from birth is in jail for life after you (rightfully) betrayed him and was partially responsible for getting his soul mutilated. Despite your desire to see him find at least peace, he has no shown no signs of changing whatsoever, and therefore will likely spend the rest of his life in his dank cell, irrevocably estranged from you. That is outside of moments where you foolishly go to him for help, thus allowing him a chance to manipulate you like the boy who still deep down wants his father’s love that you are. Not that it bothers you (it does).

Highly abusive and mentally ill sister who has tried killing you and your loved ones multiple times is now free thanks to you, and is now hellbent on turning you evil. And that the only way she stops, short of another psychotic episode, is by successfully breaking you, or due to you, or one of your allies, killing her. That is if you can kill her considering her exponential power growth and potential to keep growing since she still hasn’t reached her prime. Moreover, the reason why she became even worse, and was able to recruit people to her terrorist cell, is due to the systemic abuse present in the asylum system you thought would help her.

The love of your life broke up with you in your time of need, though justified due to you keeping secrets from her even though she saved your life, before betraying you for her father.

Your people don't really respect you at all, seeing you as the Avatar's puppet. And to a point they are correct since you made them give up their “hard-earned” colonies as well as pay reparations to the rest of the world. So they constantly try to kill you to the point that you have to hire foreign bodyguards to protect you since you can't even trust your own men.

Your uncle, despite having actual political experience, has essentially abandoned you to reform your nation after a 100 years of war to live his best life in the city he besieged for 600 days.

Your friends can't see you outside of diplomatic settings, or when serious shit happens, since they have to rebuild the world. Not to mention the fact that if you step even one foot out of line, no matter how justified, they will kill you. Though to be fair you did ask them to kill you if you ever went down your father's path.

The rest of the world rightfully treats you with skepticism, knowing that you are one bad day away from being your father's son.

Even though it is completely understandable, and you are glad to have her back in your life, a part of you hurts at the realization that your existence is directly tied to your mother’s trauma. Moreover, part of the reason why she doted on you is because she could delude herself into thinking that you could have been the child she should have had with your step-father. Additionally, even if she didn’t mean it, and wrote it only because years of abuse and trauma messed with her judgment, her letter claiming your were a bastard could have not only have led to your death as a child if your father was just a bit smarter, but also could have led to your sister inciting a civil war if not for her dropping said letter for reasons unclear.

Honestly, in light of the above, if it wasn’t for Kiyi, Ursa, and his sense of honor, along with his never give up attitude, what reason would Zuko have to live right now? Because unlike the audience, Zuko doesn’t know that everything will turn out ok, and that he will end up as a highly revered Fire Lord.

All he knows is that is his family life, along with his love life, is in shambles, his friends can’t be just friends with him due to political realities, and he is constantly facing threats to his life and regime, with none bigger than the threat posed by his sister, who has (apparently) re-established the gap in combat prowess that existed before he visited the dragons.

Hence why I hope the 2025 Gaang movie, along with the standalone Zuko movie if it is still a thing, allows Zuko to get his life together and start becoming the revered leader that LoK says he became.

Because despite being a literal king with very few bending rivals, being Zuko right now is suffering in my opinion.

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drwcn · 2 years

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《WITHOUT ENVY》 STORYBOARD 18

[storyboard 1] [storyboard 2] [storyboard 3] [storyboard 4] [storyboard 5] [storyboard 6] [storyboard 7] [storyboard 8] [storyboard 9] [storyboard 10]

[storyboard 11] [storyboard 12] [storyboard 13] [storyboard 14] [storyboard 15]

[storyboard 16] [storyboard 17]

tw: it's war, ppl be killing and dying

The Siege of Nevernight:

After A-Qing's death, Wei Wuxian was temporarily without contact to Meng Yao's spy network. However, the agent upstream of A-Qing, and an ex-con named Nie Zonghui who owed his freedom/second chance to Nie Huaisang (and as such repaid him by taking on his last name and becoming his servant) soon made contact with Wei Wuxian. By then the trajectory of the war was clear to all of them: Wen Ruohan was set to lose. The court had been maneuvered in such a way that would support Wen Qing's father as ruler once Wen Ruohan was forced to abdicate. Gusu's forces were merely leagues away. As soon as Wen Qing's father was in power, an armistice could be drawn.

"So…what am I do to now?"

Nie Zonghui smiled warily. "Nothing. I am leaving for Gusu tonight. This will be our last communication, Wei Wuxian. Orders from up high: Chenqing's debt is paid; he is free to go. I do not know what arrangements you have made with Lianfang-jun or Nie-gongzi - rest his soul - but I assume you understand what this means for you."

Of course Wei Wuxian knew. From the beginning, he had been waiting for this day. He had successfully survived the war, and the red on his ledger… hopefully the gods would see it in their way to forgive some of it now that he's helped to bring the bloodshed to an end. He was never going to be publicly exonerated, that wasn't the deal. Meng Yao had been very clear about that. Gusu would never admit to employing him as their spy, and would never admit to the unethical crimes Wei Wuxian had to commit - people he had to sacrifice - in order to maintain his cover and reap greater rewards and intel for Gusu's long term gain.

And Wen Qing, brokering this alliance, would never admit that her branch of the royal family had used outside forces to overthrow Wen Ruohan at the expense of Qishan's military loss. She would never admit to abetting Wei Wuxian in any capacity, because her primary goal would always be to protect her father, her brother, and Qishan's interests at large. Her father would be a fair and just ruler, kind to his subjects and his people, much more suited to the throne than his cousin Wen Ruohan, but his path to the throne was paved with the blood of Qishan's own men, and this was a damning secret that Wei Wuxian knew Wen Qing would never let see the light of day.

And so, Nie Zonghui's message, was the notice he'd been waiting for. He was free to leave Qishan and Gusu and never to return, go North into the prairies or south into the valleys, or out east into the sea. Gusu would not pursue him. Qishan would not pursue. It would be as though he never existed at all. "Wei Wuxian" would be announced to have taken his own life when it was clear that Wen Ruohan's reign was neigh, and that would be that.

"Before Gusu's forces surround Nevernight, you must leave the city. Staying would mean your death." Nie Zonghui peered ernestly into his face. "Do you understand?"

He would never see Lan Zhan again.

Perhaps some day Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue will tell their brother-in-law that the wretch who betrayed his heart was not a complete rat bastard and actually did some good in the war...but even so, Lan Zhan's last memory of Wei Wuxian would always be him stabbing poor Mo Xuanyu through the chest.

"I understand."

He handed one final slip of intel to Nie Zonghui. "This is the where the remainder of the Iron Cavalry is currently located. After the successive losses, Marshall Yin has lost the trust of his men, I'm sure Gusu will do what is needed to deal him with one final blow."

Of course, nothing quite goes as planned. Wen Ruohan, it seemed, was the type of man to pour accelerant on himself, his house, just to burn everything and everyone down with him.

No later than a week after Wei Wuxian delivered his last intel did the news of Iron Cavalry's defeat at the hands of Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin arrive at Nevernight.

Wen Ruohan did not attend court, instead locked himself in his study.

As instructed, Wei Wuxian packed what little belongings he had: a few changes of clothes, some private funds he had squirreled away for himself (none of the riches Wen Ruohan gave him, no, he couldn't take any of that without feeling indescribably dirty), and his sword Suibian. As he was packing, he found the little twine bunny that Lan Wangji had purchased at the night market for him that one warm evening. [see: storyboard 12]

Since husband wants it, then I will buy it. Lan Wangji had merely been teasing, in love and oblivious.

But Wei Wuxian meant what he said then. I can never be your husband, dianxia.

Wei Wuxian tucked all of this away into a small sac and left in the middle of the night, after the sedating additives he placed in the incense burner fixed Wen Ruohan into a deep sleep. He got out of Nevernight, and by dawn he had made it to the next town over. He had made up his mind to head south, but still, something nagged him in the back of his mind. It was something Wen Ruohan had said to him in the throes of their rough coupling just the night before. The man was clearly becoming increasingly unhinged, fraying around the edge in every sense. Wei Wuxian's head may have been spinning and fuzzy, but he remembered Wen Ruohan's words.

I may lose, but they will never win. From the ashes the phoenix will rise.

His mind made, Wei Wuxian purchased the fastest horse he could find and rode back to Nevernight. What timing too. The city was in chaos. Apparently Wen Ruohan had summoned the entire imperial court - every last nobleman, gentry, officers of the ministries - for one important assembly, which nearly everyone had assumed was for the purpose his abdication.

Except it was not.

All around the palace there were vats of oil lining the halls and pavilions, tethered together and set to ignite at a moment's notice.

Wen Ruohan sequestered everyone in the palace. The Imperial Guards, which unlike Nevernight's Capital Defence, was still staunchly loyal to Wen Ruohan, blocked every exit and sealed the palace gates. It was only by luck that Wei Wuxian was able to steal into the palace through one of the smallest, most remote secret passage way that the Imperials Guards had yet to seal.

Outside, Gusu's forces arrived at the city gates, lead by Lan Wangji. A quick exchange with the Commander of Capital Defence - who had long since sworn fealty to Wen Qing's family as did his men - notified them of the crisis within the palace.

When Wei Wuxian stepped through the threshold of Wen Ruohan's study, sword drawn, Wen Ruohan turned to him and began to laugh.

"I should have known."

But Wei Wuxian did not intend to kill Wen Ruohan. He pleaded with the man to set aside his ambitions and to come with him.

For a moment, it almost seemed Wen Ruohan would agree, but he did not. In the end, Wei Wuxian was forced to put a stop to Wen Ruohan and slit his throat in one clean stroke.

Wen Ruohan bled dry in a matter of seconds. Wei Wuxian held him as he died, a man who he saw neither as master nor as lover. A maker of sorts perhaps. There was a twisted kind of respect there, an ugly and wretched importance which Wen Ruohan held in his life, if not his heart.

Then suddenly, the study's door burst upon once again. Wei Wuxian looked up, only to see Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian did not realize that he had began to sob until his tears splattered against Wen Ruohan's greying face, diluting the blood stains that were already beginning to dry. He wept for the lives he had so unwillingly taken, cried for the utter mess he had made of his own, for the chance at freedom he knew he would never have, and for the absolutions that would never come.

There was smoke in the air. Somewhere, the the fire had started, but if Lan Wangji and his men were in the palace, were standing well and alive and full of righteous rage, then surely it meant they had overwhelmed Wen Ruohan's Imperial Guards and thwarted his plot to burn everyone alive.

Flanked by his generals and lieutenants, Lan Wangji was a vision in silver and white armour. He met Wei Wuxian's eyes steadily, not a hint of doubt or sorrow. If there was ever heartbreak, perhaps it was all in the past….

Better this way, lamented Wei Wuxian internally, rising to his feet.

Lan Wangji surveyed the scene and drew his own conclusion.

A second later, the illustrious and venerated Hanguang-wang was turning away, the flutter of his cape carrying a certain decisive finality, like curtains drawing close at the end of a long, unfortunate play.

Lan Zhan...

Wei Wuxian almost - almost - gave in. But he didn't.

"Arrest him."

The Aftermath

While Lan Wangji went to deal with Wen Ruohan, Qishan's Capital Defence, who had become under Wen Qing's control and agreed to the armistice that Lan Wangji proposed, secured the rest of the palace from the hands of the reminent Imperial Guards. A fire did start, but thankfully, the Capital Defence acted quickly and the fire did not reach the main assembly hall where the nobles and officials were being held hostage.

Upon Wen Ruohan's death, the noblemen urged Wen Qing's father's, the most respected and senior of the royal family, to take the throne and restore peace. The war may be over, but there was still negotiations to be done.

Wen Qing learned from her father that Lan Wangji had captured Wei Wuxian, who was found crying over Wen Ruohan's body. Wei Wuxian refused to speak since his incarceration, and so it was assumed that Wen Ruohan took his own life.

Wen Qing immediately went to see Wei Wuxian in prison.

Wei Wuxian sat against the back wall of the dark and damp prison cell. He was in a bad shape. Given his infamous and nefarious reputation, all of his supposed war crimes committed on Wen Ruohan's behalf, Gusu soldiers must've done a number on him.

Wen Qing knelt before him, moving aside his unbound hair to see his bloodied chest covered in whip marks and burns. "Lan Wangji did this to you?"

Wei Wuxian tried to laugh, but it ended up becoming a wrecked cough which sounded dangerously wet. He shook his head.

"His men then. You -"

"Zhang-gongzhu." Wei Wuxian raised his gaze to stare at her with feverish eyes. She laid a concerned palm against his forehead to find that he was burning up. (Zhang-gongzhu: grand princess.)

"Wei Wuxian, you're still so fucking stupid." She left her tone lowered, for no one should hear such vulgar language out of the lips of a honoured princess. "You were supposed to leave! Why did you not leave -"

Then it dawned on her. "You killed Wen Ruohan. You realized he was going to burn all of us alive and you came to stop him. "

Wei Wuxian's silence confirmed everything she needed to know.

"You - you -" Wen Qing clenched her fist and could not bite back a frustrated scowl. "You know this mean, don't you?! You know I cannot speak for you!! I told you this from the beginning: my father's rule cannot be tainted by a reputation of collusion and usurpation!! I'm going to speak with Lan Wangji -"

She made to stand.

"Wen Qing!" Finally, since the day of his arrest, Wei Wuxian spoke. "Please. Spare him."

"Spare him? You're the one who's going to die -"

"And how many people have died because of me? A-Qing is dead. Xue Yang is dead. Nie Huaisang is dead. I killed Wen Ruohan. I even killed Mo Xuanyu, who was an innocent. Thousands of soldiers on both sides lost their lives because of me. Yiling is a wasteland. Besides, you know what they're all saying about me and... what I was to Wen Ruohan. Why tell Lan Zhan the truth, when it changes nothing and would only cause him pain? Please, Wen Qing, you have see that it is pointless. I knew what would happen when I came back; I've made my peace with it."

Wen Qing was a silent for a long moment, and then, finally, she gave a great heaving sigh. "Alright. Technically, you are still Lan Wangji's mianshou. Now that Wen Ruohan is dead, Gusu wants to extradite you and try you in their courts, which will most likely lead to your public execution. My father has already agreed."

Wei Wuxian nodded. Unsurprised.

"Is there anything more I can do for you?"

The man cracked a grin. "Yes. I'd like to have a drink. Emperor's Smile, if you'd be so kind."

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #without envy #corie fics #cql ficlet #okay i lied there's probably 1 or 2 more storyboards

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marshmallowloves · 1 year

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Finally came up with a decent ref for Cesylia, my Fates self insert! Fatesona? Corrin…sona? I dunno but! I'm pleased with how she looks~ (not gonna shade it right now tho cause I'm tired fjdsfhg)

She mainly uses ice magic, though she does still wield the Yato and can transform into a dragon. I figure having ice still makes sense, even though she's part Silent Dragon and the Vallite family has the whole water thing going on - ice is just frozen water after all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Cesylia is a softie who gives "why can't we be friends" Corrin a run for their money. She'll always try to be civil and kind, but she's not a total pushover. When kindness is truly no longer an option, she is willing to stand up for herself and fight, but she'll definitely exhaust every other alternative first. This is also pretty apparent when it comes to a certain...prickly Hoshidan prince, who has a very hard time understanding why in the world she keeps being nice to him despite his bitterness towards her (but dw he gets over it…mostly)

I also spent way too much time coming up with a background that both suits her and tries to fix some of the dumb stuff about Fates' story, while keeping other parts I like ksdjfg. I tried my best to condense it, I really did - but the story of Fates is so long and complicated I found it hard to keep it under a few paragraphs while explaining everything. -u-; I'll put it under the cut if anyone's interested~

One thing I will say here is that she and the Hoshidan siblings know they're not related from the very beginning. I'm still confused how anyone in canon wholeheartedly believed this actual dragon lady who looks nothing like them and has a distinctly non-Japanese (sorry, non-Hoshidan) name is their blood sibling. Someone had to have suspected something at some point, come on now dkjfhg

Cesylia was born in Valla to Anankos and Mikoto. Mikoto prophesized that one day Anankos's degeneration would bring about the destruction of several worlds, so they worked to bestow an incredible power onto their child that would lay dormant until that day, where it would awaken itself and stop the catastrophe. However, they kept it a secret, even to Cesylia herself, because it has the potential to be as destructive as what it's meant to prevent.

Mikoto later flees to Hoshido, marrying Sumeragi after the death of his first wife, and Cesylia spends her very early childhood there. One of Garon's spies learns of her power, and when Sumeragi visits Nohr to discuss a peace treaty, Garon kills him and kidnaps Cesylia, hoping to harness the power for himself. She spends the rest of her childhood and early adulthood in solitude, locked away in a fortified tower in Castle Krakenburg, where she's periodically subject to "trials" by Garon's sorcerers to try and force out her power. She's often visited by the Nohrian siblings, who care for and bond with her while she's confined but have no idea what's really happening.

Hoshidan soldiers later strike, successfully recovering Cesylia and Azura, but the celebration is short-lived as Mikoto is soon killed by a Nohrian assassin. Hoshido makes their counterattack and meets the Nohrian royals on the battlefield. With a heavy heart, Cesylia chooses to stay in Hoshido - she doesn't want to go through the painful trials again, and fears that if the Nohrian siblings try to help, they'll be put in danger for standing against their corrupt father.

When Cesylia is back in Hoshido, she's treated very differently than she remembers - she's constantly doted on, and Ryoma in particular is overly protective of her. Prior to their infiltration of Castle Krakenburg, Mikoto had entrusted Ryoma with the knowledge of her prophetic vision and Cesylia's power. She tasked him and his siblings with guarding Cesylia with their lives, so that she may live to stop the catastrophe when it comes.

After that, she basically follows the plot of the game…s? listen I'm a big dumb baby and I don't want anyone to die so I honestly have no idea what to do after that. As I said, I tried to condense it, so there's more little details I didn't put here, but I like what I have here~ -u-

#I have a LOT more bits and pieces about her/her story #but this post is already so long #and I doubt people wanna read all that kdjfg #Cesylia #self insert #my art #fire emblem #fire emblem fates #fe fates #fe:if #fe14 #fatesona #corrin #fe corrin

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iwishiwasawitchpls · 1 year

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I’ve always had an idea for a book trilogy,

first book

where we’re introduced to a happy go lucky mc who’s dream is to become general but is too poor to take actual training so he just signs up to become an adventurer and hopes for the best. He makes friends with a lizard man and they adventure together in hopes of becoming famous and making money. While escorting a group of student researchers into a fairly known ruin, they meet a robot/golem who knows a lot about combat but is unaware of common sense and stuff. Flash forward the group is now a group of five- mc, lizard man, golem/robot, fl,2nd ml- and they’re somehow tricked into fighting with the rebellion because the mc did not properly read the commission’s contract. Another flash forward fl and lizard man die a few chapters into the war and while the two remaining male leads without getting to grieve end up finding out that the golem/robot was actually more aware about the world than they where and ended up taking over the government slowly over the years. Turns out that the robot/golem was made by spiritualist that wanted to give his strongest spirit a body so that it would always be with him. It worked but the spirit was hurt in the process causing it to attack the spiritualist and cause the golem/robot to have no source of energy so the spirit wanders around the world for centuries watching and learning from the worlds “strongest” leaders. And instead of becoming stronger ends up learning a new type of power which was political power. Blah blah blah. The mc and 2nd male lead end up confused about what was going on and while distracted by the golem/robot they get attacked and die in battle to be forever remembered as matyrs and the firsts to witness the new rule. End.

Book two

it’s basically the same events but from the 2nd male leads pov, he comes from a rich family and meets the mc after they lizard man and mc successfully rescued him and his mom. From a wyverns nest. He ends up following them and giving up on becoming an imperial knight. He’s the one with solid skills but no battle iq as he has never had a real battle experience. Yada yada they meet the fl at a ball and she ends up stealing from her family after they put her in an arranged marriage with her grand uncle telling her it’s just for a few years and the pay off will be huge. She runs with the money hires the mc and gang to protect her and then they realize she had amazing lock picking and puzzle solving skills. So they write a contract in which they will protect the fl for free if she helps then while they explore. Blah blah blah a few adventure him and lizard man end up going going on a solo adventure cause the fl is injured and mc has to taker care of her cause the golem/robot is on a “maintenance trip” . And usual crappy romance adventure things happen and they fall for each other with him falling for the lizard man way to fast. So the lizard man never actually accepts the relationship so all he really knows is that they both like each other but have to keep it on the down-low or else. Yadayada it’s basically the same as the first book except it’s more feelings wise and more romantic, and obviously sad cause his lover does end up dead. So the rest after the death is just him trying to live on but never fully accepting his death while also feeling as though his whole world just ended. Until it did.

Book three

Everything is from the golem/robots point of view. It’s the golem/robot coming to live with a body and while being in constant pain they hear a constant loud sound coming from a being close to them. They don’t know what it is but they do know they don’t like it. So they make the most reasonable choice they know-end it. They wake up again, noticing a thread connecting them to a hunk of ore, they understood that they could never actually separate themselves from it and they stay there for a while. Until they notice a lot of noises from far away and yadayada the story is basically them just exploring and finding random organisms studying them and finding stuff that’s interest they watch as organisms evolved,devolved, and some went extinct. They never fully understood stuff but as centuries past they learned a lot, how the weak can control the strong, somehing they knew was not the natural order of things. At first they thought it was interesting but slowly but surely once the fully understood what was going on they found what was happening a tragedy. So they wanted to change it. For the first time in millennia the being wanted something so they hurried to absorb as much information as possible know as much as they can while they waited. They knew it was a a slim chance but they had hope that one day curious souls just like itself would find a way to let them roam around the world and it happened. And yadayadayada, they meet the mc the mc places one of the spiritualist stones inside the golem/robot body and allow for the spirit to gain consciousness. They where both afraid of the being. But the being used what they learned from years of watching the weak controlling the the string they knew how to make them trust them easily. And yada yada the books just about the golem/robot finding ways to get political power as fast and swiftly as possible under a guise and alias. Yadayada they take control usurp the throne quietly until slowly they conquer the nobles and such. Making them start a war for their greed. And yadayada.

Anyways that is all I can really think of. And honestly it sounds fun to write but I have this thing that if I start something the moment it’s starts to look bad for me I give up on it and never look back into it until it’s too late and I have no idea where to begin from anymore

#just and idea #original character #lots of holes #fun little thing that’s never gonna happen probably

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grewlikefancyflowers · 2 years

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'“Jiang Cheng”, “Hmph, I can’t be better than you? Do you remember how you died?”

The light smile on Wei WuXian’s face dissipated at once.

It was as if he had suddenly been pricked by a poisonous needle. A faint, sharp pain came from all around his body.' (Ch.32, exr)

It's a matter of debate how far JC can be blamed for WWX's death, and more importantly if WWX himself actually holds him responsible. I think his reaction here is pretty telling.

If WWX truly felt that JC had not done anything to cause his death, he would be able to brush off moments like these off easily. I cannot see him having such a strong reaction to people simply believing that JC killed him - WWX is more than used to hearing rumours about himself and the events of his life, while I would say there are times he is frustrated & upset by them, he overall cares very little for others' opinions, and his reactions tend to be more sardonic and scornful compared to what we see above.

Of course, we do have to consider that WWX says himself that JC didn't kill him -

'Wen Ning whispered, “Sect Leader Jiang, Jiang Cheng, brought a siege upon the Burial Mounds. And he killed you.”

Wei WuXian, “I’ll have to clarify this one. He didn’t kill me. I died from a backfire.”

Wen Ning finally looked up at him, “But, Sect Leader Jiang clearly…”

Wei WuXian, “Nobody can walk safely on a single-plank bridge for their whole life. It couldn’t be helped.”

Wen Ning seemed as if he wanted to sigh, but he had no breath to let out. Wei WuXian ended the conversation, “Okay. Let’s not talk about him anymore. Have you heard of anything else?”' (Ch.43, exr)

But we also have to consider why WN is so insistent that JC was responsible, and why WWX does not let him finish him sentence, deflecting the blame for whatever WN was about to accuse JC of instead. WN's 'sigh' seems to indicate that he at least does not agree with WWX's very lukewarm defense of JC either.

What I think can be considered certain, is that the exact thing that killed WWX was backlash from his corpses - I am not suggesting that he died by Sandu itself. What is questionable is that exactly why his powers backfired. It could simply be attributed to an inevitability of destroying the yin hufu, however looking at the way WWX talks about it, this doesn't appear to be the case.

Firstly, as we can see above in his exchange with WN, he doesn't attribute the yin hufu itself, instead he deflects the blame from JC to 'the single-plank bridge.' As in, it was an inevitability of his position and reputation at the time - something that WWX likely still doesn't know at this point that JC was actually in part to blame for anyway.

Secondly, WWX never indicates that the yin hufu was inherently dangerous to destroy - 'It wasn’t as though Wei Wuxian, after forging such calamity, had refused to destroy it. However, creating the thing had been difficult enough; destroying it was every bit as difficult, and demanded an incredible amount of his time and energy.' (Ch.30, fyy)

He only says that it was difficult - but no more difficult than creating it, which he'd already done successfully. Chapter 30 is also our first insight into the details of WWX's thoughts about the yin hufu - if MXTX intended for us to believe that it was to blame for his death, now would have been the time to indicate that. Instead she writes - 'But before he was able to finish disposing of the other, the Siege of the Burial Mounds descended upon him. He had no control over the events that followed.'

Suggesting that the only thing that went wrong in destroying the yin hufu was the timing of the siege, the one led by JC.

I have also seen suggestions - perhaps influenced by a certain adaption - that WWX was accepting or bringing about his own death in destroying it. An idea that I think of as inherently OOC, for WWX to give up on the (at that point) still living Wen remnants, including A-Yuan, that he was protecting.

So while WWX might outwardly declare that JC did not cause his death (though actually just further implicates him in his defense), his attitude and reactions surrounding it do seem to indicate the opposite.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #jc wank

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

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Reverse transmigration wangxian where LWJ who cultivates to immortality found an old summoning array where mxy fails to summon wwx but the whole thing with JGY still got revealed. LWJ in his grief summons WWX in our modern world, and the rest is up to you :) Maybe get WWX some therapy and loving family and how different modern days people are

This one is a bit angsty and has vague descriptions of sex. Modern AU.

“The Tragedy of Wei Wuxian - The Man Behind the Legend”

Lan Wangji caresses the title of the book with a thumb, eyes tracing a name he has always held close to heart but hasn’t heard for a long time.

“We all know of Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian as Yiling Laozu. He’s one of the first to cultivate successfully with ‘resentful’ energy. His theories and papers helped us develop a greater understanding of yin energy, Qi deviation, and resentful spirits. He was a visionary, a man ahead of his time, someone who thought outside the box and looked for solutions instead of sticking to the norm. He’s also the first known person to donate his Golden Core.”

Wangji looks away for a moment, remembering Wen Ning’s snarling face and Jiang Wanyin’s rage, denial, and guilt.

“But we don’t talk about what brought that great visionary down. Society, as it did with many great thinkers, turned against him. In his youth, Wei Wuxian was one of the most accomplished cultivators of his generation. No one knows exactly what happened for him to develop the so-called ‘Ghostly Path’. His loss of the Golden Core may have been a factor, but the actual circumstances are shrouded in mystery.

What follows after the War of the Five Great Clans, known as the Sunshot Campaign, is nothing short of a tragedy. Wei Wuxian saw injustice happening and decided to fight against it. Society tore him up for it. At that time, all actions against him were justified and considered righteous. Those actions don’t stand up to scrutiny under the modern lens. Like all great and radical thinkers, Wei Wuxian ideals made him the enemy and that led to this tragic death, along with the murder of innocent war prisoners he sought to protect. There are unconfirmed reports of there being a child among the Wens.”

Wangji’s eyes flicker over to a picture frame sitting on his desk, an image of Sizhui and Jingyi smiling up at him through the glossy image. They’re well, he knows. Last he heard from them, they were in South Korea and having a great time.

Sizhui must not know of this book or he would’ve called immediately, always so concerned about his a’die.

“It was later revealed that hunger for power and political maneuvering led to his death. When we study the historical records, it is obvious that the man was pushed into the corner and was forced to retaliate. Unfortunately, no one cared about his fate-”

“I did,” Wangji whispered to himself, thinking back on silver eyes in an indistinct face. He loved - still loves Wei Ying - but the physical aspects of him have long since faded from his memory. He sometimes remembers Wei Ying’s laugh. Sometimes, he dreams of his smile. He doesn’t recall what Wei Ying sounded like, only remembering his tone when he said ‘Lan Zhan.’

And yet, Lan Wangji hasn’t forgotten love.

He reads the book in silence, going through all 375 pages of it without pausing to eat or sleep. It tells the story of Wei Ying in stark, blunt terms. There are a few facts missing or erroneous. He wasn’t the adopted child of the Jiangs. There was certainly no unrequited love between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli.

There’s very little mention of him. According to this book, Lan Wangji is a mere footnote in Wei Wuxian’s life; a childhood acquaintance, a disapproving comrade, and later a man who unraveled the truth because he pursued justice.

“He was just 23 years old when he died,” Wangji lingers over that statement, “23-year-olds are barely adults. They hold the promise of a bright future. They have so much potential inside of them. At 23, some people graduate from college, some take up their first serious job. At 23, young people fall in love and maybe form a life-long bond. Wei Wuxian became a key player in a big conflict at 17, he donated his core at 17. At 17, we still have children in high school. Our seventeen-year-olds aren’t even allowed to drink or drive. Our seventeen-year-olds are still protected and sheltered by their parents.

That is perhaps the biggest tragedy of Wei Wuxian’s life. He was only allowed to live a carefree life for seven years, from the day he was taken off the streets to the day the YunmengJiang Sect was attacked. After that and until his death, his life was marked by war, strife, betrayal, and persecution.

A visionary, a hero, a brilliant mind, dead by what most would consider suicide.” Wangji’s breath hitches and he takes a moment to collect himself, the sentence ringing in his head.

“He deserved better.”

---

He deserved better, Wangji thinks as he walks sedately towards his library.

There had been a glimmer of hope, all those years ago when Mo Xuanyu attempted to resurrect Wei Ying, but when he failed to do so, Wangji felt something shatter in him.

Whatever Wei Ying had done had completely destroyed his soul. His precious, noble soul. One that was formed for justice and kindness.

He deserved better.

He knows what he must do.

---

An immortal’s Golden Core has immeasurable power. It is the result of several hundred years of Cultivation and diligence. Wangji is more powerful than most, having survived through war, strife, grief, and loss.

An immortal’s Golden Core can also be an ingredient.

‘Draw the talismans shown below in the blood of your heart. Pin them in eight directions, north, northwest, west, southwest, south, southeast, east, and northeast. Sit in the exact center of this circle and sacrifice half of your cultivation to the being you wish to summon.’’

Wangji’s heart and hands are steady as he draws the talismans from blood drawn directly from the artery. He pins them in all eight directions and sits down in the middle, his hands moving elegantly to summon his Qi. He breathes in and breathes out, sinking into meditation with habitual ease.

It will work.

It has to.

The room floods with Resentful Energy.

---

He deserves better.

Wangji feels torn apart in ways he has never experienced before. The ritual summoning carves something out of his chest and drags it away. His mouth floods with blood and his body weakens alarmingly.

But it doesn’t matter.

Wei Ying.

---

Wei Ying is more beautiful than Wangji remembers. He is bloodsoaked, covered in cuts and bruises, saturated with Resentful Energy, but he’s alive.

And he’s beautiful.

Wangji stumbles to his feet, shakily walking into the bathroom to fetch some warm water. He walks back, his arms feeling the weight of the bucket like they have never carried such weight before. With every step that he takes towards Wei Ying, his heartbeat spikes up a little. He doesn’t know if he chose the right time. He doesn’t know if Wei Ying’s spirit had shattered before his death and dying had just been the aftermath.

Maybe Wei Ying’s body is here and not his soul.

Wangji cannot bear thinking about it.

With weak, shaking hands and the taste of blood lingering in his mouth, he slowly reaches forward. Layer by layer, he removes Wei Ying’s clothes, his fingertips tingling because his beloved’s body is warm.

He deserves better.

With aching tenderness, he wipes Wei Ying clean, removes all blood, grime, and mud from his body.

Wei Ying doesn’t stir.

---

There’s a gentle touch against his cheek. It is strange enough to wake him up because few people dare touch Lan Wangji. Slender fingers tap once, twice, almost playfully and Wangji knows who it is even before he opens his eyes.

Like a sun emerging from the horizon, Wei Ying appears before him, his smile bright and questioning.

“Wei Ying,” He breathes and Wei Ying nods, eyes a sparkling silver. There is so much beauty in that face that he can’t help but reach forward. Ignoring Wei Ying’s surprise, he cups his face and leans forward pressing his forehead against his beloved’s.

Wei Ying is still for a long moment, but he moves eventually, setting hands on Wangji’s shoulder. He doesn’t push him away, just huffing in soft amusement.

“Wei Ying,” He whispers, closing his stinging eyes, “Forgive Wangji for his selfishness.” He says, “I summoned you.” I summoned you without asking, knowing you wouldn’t desire it.

Wei Ying huffs again and that’s when it strikes him.

He pulls back and looks at his beloved in concern, scanning his eyes, face, neck, and chest quickly, his heart racing.

Why wasn’t Wei Ying speaking?

---

“You’re right in suspecting that his spirit sustained some sort of injury even before he was… killed.” Lan Jingyi says softly, pulling away from the sleeping Wei Ying, “There’s nothing physically wrong with him, Hanguang-jun, please don’t worry! His spirit just needs a little bit of time to recover.”

Wangji nods gratefully as he watches Sizhui lean over Wei Ying, his expression full of wonder and desperate happiness. As Sizhui’s cultivation grew, he started remembering more things from his childhood. They have never spoken on the matter of Wei Ying, but Wangji knows his son remembers more than he did when he was a child.

“Now, please let me check you.”

He levels a sharp look at the younger man but Lan Jingyi is no longer the adoring and naive student Wangji taught all those years ago. He’s a strong, accomplished cultivator and an avid researcher.

Lan Jingyi ignores him cheerfully and checks his core, stepping into Wangji's personal space without a care.

He narrows his eyes at the steely glint in the boy's eyes.

"I know you love him, Hanguang-jun," Lan Jingyi says, "And love is worth a life." They're immortals, life has little meaning for people who have lived for centuries, "But I wonder if the Wei Wuxian that you so adore will be happy about you risking your life for him."

Wangji's eyes flicker towards Wei Ying, who looks exhausted even in his sleep. "He deserved better."

Lan Jingyi is silent for a moment before he speaks, "Sizhui and I read the book on our flight back. Everything was horrible, I'm not surprised that his spirit sustained so much damage. But it is almost entirely intact now. It shows how much he wants to live, Hanguang-jun."

It's a relief.

---

Wei Ying can't speak but his presence is still loud. He rests for a few weeks to recover from his injuries. During that time, Wangji spends most of his days moving from Wei Ying's bedside to the library and back again.

His beloved has an insatiable hunger for knowledge. He wants to know everything about the modern world.

Every morning, Wangji is confronted with a bright face with sparkling eyes waving a book or a scroll in his direction.

Wangji hasn't experienced such liveliness in centuries. The very air of his home glows with Wei Ying's vitality. Wei Ying's body recovers quickly and soon the man is out of bed and following Wangji around.

His heart feels too big for his chest.

By all appearances, Wei Ying is perfectly content. He walks around Cloud Recesses, visits Caiyi Town, and is happy to watch the sunset with Wangji every evening.

That had been Wangji's wish when he performed that summoning.

He wanted Wei Ying to have another chance to live free and happy.

Looking at him now, Wangji wants to reach out, cup that cheerful face, and pepper kisses all over it. He wants to kiss those fluttering eyelids, smooth cheeks, sharp jawline-

That soft, smiling mouth.

Wangji is an immortal. He has endless patience. He can wait for Wei Ying to come to him.

He must wait.

---

The modern world fascinates Wei Ying. His beloved looks at everything from tall buildings to food stalls with wide, stunned eyes. Cloud Recesses and Caiyi Town are still relatively untouched by the passage of time, but Wei Ying has free access to the internet and has learned how to use it within two months of his arrival.

Wangji doesn't restrain him.

He just watches as Wei Ying, his brilliant and enthusiastic love, learns to thrive in his new world.

His voice has still not returned but that doesn't seem to bother Wei Ying. He is delighted to learn that there's a way to communicate nonetheless.

He starts learning sign language and Lan Wangji, with patient and steady hands, practices with him.

---

Lan Sizhui follows Wei Ying around with quiet affection and aching tenderness. He's much older than Wei Ying now, but he remains their son in spirit. He treats Wei Ying like a senior, with respect and adoration.

His Wei Ying notices, of course. At first, he finds the situation quite strange but Wei Ying isn't stupid.

'Lan Zhan,' He asks, 'Who is Sizhui?'

Wangji brings his fingers up and replies, 'He's your a-Yuan. I went looking for you but found him instead.'

Wei Ying's eyes widen and he spins around, running out of the room to seek Sizhui.

Wangji follows sedately and when he finds his love and his son, they're embracing while crying tears of joy.

---

'Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!'

Wangji huffs under his breath and carefully sets his brush down, tucking the scroll away before turning to meet bright silver eyes.

Wei Ying leans forward with an eager expression, 'Do you know where Suibian is?'

Wangji nods, 'In storage. I was able to retrieve it from the Jin Clan.'

'Can I have it?'

Wangji rises smoothly to his feet and leads Wei Ying to storage where both Suibian and Chenqing.

Wei Ying only glances at Chenqing for a moment before reaching for Suibian with a desperate expression.

Suibian, a blade that has remained sealed since Jiang Wanyin unsheathed it once, easily reveals itself again.

Wei Ying spins around eagerly and looks at him with pleading eyes.

As Wangji is able to deny Wei Ying nothing, he reaches for Bichen and they immediately head for the training grounds.

It has been a long time since Wangji has really used Bichen to its full capacity. With half of his core pulsing within Wei Ying, they're almost evenly matched.

Wangji has not fought in ages but Wei Ying is still a Cultivator. The spar is fast-paced and thrilling. Wangji acquaints himself with Wei Ying as his love becomes reacquainted with his sword.

Wei Wuxian had been one of the best swordsmen of his generation. He has lost none of his elegance and skill. Wangji presses him and Wei Ying laughs soundlessly, twirling around him in white GusuLan robes, bright and joyful.

He breaks Wangji's heart and mends it at the same time.

---

Wangji has missed Wei Ying for hundreds of years.

He can't resist the urge to touch. He keeps it chaste and respectful but his hands have a mind of their own in Wei Ying's vicinity.

When they're out and about, Wangji guides Wei Ying with a hand on his back. It becomes natural to grasp his love's elbow if he wants Wei Ying's attention.

His touches can easily be dismissed as gestures of friendship by most. But Wei Ying knows him.

'er-gege,' Wei Ying's smile is sweet, 'Wei Ying is cold.'

Wangji's eyes flicker over to the lit fire briefly before landing on his love, 'Are you feeling well?' He asks in concern, reaching forward to place the back of his hand on Wei Ying's forehead.

His beloved laughs and nods, leaning into the touch with a sly smile, 'I'm well, just cold.'

Wangji feels a stir in his chest at the intent look in Wei Ying's eyes. Hesitantly, he cups Wei Ying's cheek in silent question.

Wei Ying nuzzles his palm, his eyelids fluttering close gently.

Desperation and elation flood him and Wangji sucks in a sharp breath. He moves in a blur, lifting Wei Ying off his seat and placing him on his lap.

Wei Ying gasps and giggles, his tall, strong body seeming to almost shrink as he cuddles close. Wangji wraps both arms around his love and squeezes him tight, rocking them gently as he is assaulted with painful love.

"Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying," He chants in Wei Ying's hair, holding him so close, it feels like there's no part of him not touching his love.

When Wei Ying turns to him with a smile in his eyes, Wangji doesn't hesitate to lean forward, bringing their lips together in a long-awaited kiss.

He presses Wei Ying back against the crook of his elbow and tastes his silent laugh on his tongue.

Wangji has never felt so blissful and complete.

---

Jingyi convinces Wei Ying to go to therapy.

Eager to learn and curious, Wei Ying agrees.

He returns from every session with a thoughtful expression.

Months pass but his voice is still lost.

---

They make love and Wei Ying mouths the words he wants to speak. He smiles, sobs, laughs, and pouts as Wangji takes him apart bit by bit.

Wangji has never known such pleasure. He loses himself, drowning in Wei Ying's scent and finding heaven in his body.

He enjoys feeling smooth skin. He sinks his fingers into Wei Ying's silken hair. He tastes the sharp edge of his jaw. He bites. He drives in and takes ownership of Wei Ying's pleasure.

He presses his mischievous sprite into their bed and doesn't hold back, centuries of love pouring out of him.

---

A combination of therapy and Wei Ying's natural approach to life makes his recovery quick. Within a year, he's well-adjusted and happy.

He laughs at almost everything. The first time they fly, the first time they visit an amusement park, the first time they go to an aquarium.

He laughs and Wangji starts noticing the color of his voice returning to it.

Wangji is grateful for what he has. He's grateful that Wei Ying is back, safe, and happy. He is grateful that Wei Ying is unharmed.

But he cannot lie to himself. He misses Wei Ying's voice.

---

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,"

Wangji almost misses it, as engrossed as he is. He presses in deep and feels a shiver of pleasure race down his spine. Wei Ying's fingers curl around Wangji's nape and his lips caress his ear.

"Lan Zhan,"

He stills.

Wangji takes a deep, bracing breath and pulls back a little, balancing on his arms to peer down at his lover.

Wei Ying is a vision. His cheeks flushed, his eyes wide and dark with passion, his lips bitten red from Wangji's kisses. His long hair is scattered and wild, a tangle of glossy strands across Wangji's pillow.

"Lan Zhan,"

Wei Ying's lips move and a voice accompanies that movement. It is slightly hoarse, somewhat weak, but it is still the voice he barely remembers.

Heat flares in him and he sinks deeper, pulling a sharp gasp from Wei Ying.

He spends the entire night filling their room with that precious voice.

---

Wei Ying doesn't ask questions. He doesn't ask why Wangji did what he did. He doesn't ask how he did it. His beloved has always been perspective and he understood Wangji's desperation from the moment he woke.

He reads the book that triggered it all and laughs, "Aiya, they make me out to be some sort of martyr for justice." He says fondly, for he is very fond of the modern world.

Sizhui is sitting at his feet, eyes closed in bliss as Wei Ying gently combs his hair, styling it into an intricate braid.

"They're not wrong, though." Jingyi can never sit straight and he has forgotten all of his Lan teachings over the years. He has his legs thrown over the arm of his chair and his head is dangling over another arm, his hair sweeping the floor as he nods.

Ridiculous.

"I never asked to be glorified in such a way." Wei Ying protests with a chuckle.

"Baba should be grateful no one knows about his resurrection." Sizhui pipes up, "At least, you don't have to deal with modern stans."

Wangji arches a brow at the word and Wei Ying laughs, already more accustomed to the Internet language than Wangji is. "Oh, heaven forbid!"

"But listen, you and Hanguang-jun have the greatest love story ever, you could write a book about it, Wei-quanbei!"

Wei Ying tilts his head to the side and Wangji urges him to consider it with a subtle nod. Wei Ying is happy but he's never content to be idle. The modern world doesn't need cultivation, but perhaps it can benefit from their stories.

---

‘Once you summon successfully, you belong to this being for all eternity as payment for the one wish they may grant. Half of your core will live within them. If they die, you die. If they live, you live. If they hurt, you hurt. If they become corrupt, you become corrupt.

You will sacrifice immortality, but not the eternal bond. Every time you are reincarnated into this world, you will be tethered to the being.

Beware.

Wangji tucks the scroll away, sealing it so that it is never discovered again.

He has no regrets.

#short prompts #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan suzhui #lan jingyi #modern au #canon divergence

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hamliet · 3 years

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The Crows Summon the Sun

Or, Hamliet’s review of Shadow & Bone, which gets a 4.5/5 for enjoyment and a 3.5/5 in terms of writing.

The true heroes of this story and the saviors of the show are the Crows. However, the problem is that the show then has an uneven feel, because the strength of the Crows plotline highlights the weaknesses of the trilogy storyline. But imo, overall, the strengths overshadow (#punintended) the weaknesses.

I’ll divide the review into the narrative and the technical (show stuff, social commentary), starting with narrative.

Narrative: The Good

It’s What The Crows Deserve

I went into the show watching it for the Crows; however, knowing that their storyline was intended to be a prequel, I wasn’t terribly optimistic. And while it is a prequel, the characters have complete and full arcs that perfectly set them up for the further development they will have in the books (which I think should be the next season?). Instead of retreading the arcs they’d have in the books, which is how prequels usually go, they had perfect set up for these arcs. It’s really excellent.

Jesper, Inej, and Kaz are all allowed to be flawed, to have serious conflicts with one another, and yet to love each other. They feel like a found family in the best of ways. Kaz is the perfect selfish rogue; he’s a much more successfully executed Byronic hero than the Darkling, actually. Inej is heroic and her faith is not mocked, yet she too is flawed and her choices are not always entirely justified, but instead left to the audience to ponder (like killing the girl), which is a more mature writing choice that I appreciated.

Jesper is charming, has a heart of gold despite being a murderer and on the surface fairly greedy, and MILO THE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT GOAT WAS THE BEST THING EVER. I also liked Jesper’s fling with Dima but I felt it could be better used rather than merely establishing his sexuality, like if Jesper and Dima had seen each other one more time or something had come of their tryst for the plot/themes/development of Jesper.

Nina and Matthias’s backstory being in the first season, instead of in flashbacks, really works because it automatically erases any discomfort of the implications of Nina having falsely accused Matthias that the books start with. We know Nina, we know Matthias, we know their motivations, backgrounds, and why they feel the way we do. It’ll be easy for the audience to root for them without a lot of unnecessary hate springing from misunderstanding Nina (since she’s my favorite). Matthias’s arc was also really strongly executed and satisfyingly tragic. Their plotline was a bit unfortunately disconnected from the rest of the story, but Danielle Gallagan and Callahan Skogman have absolutely sizzling chemistry so I found myself looking forward to their scenes instead of feeling distracted. Also? It’s nice seeing a woman with Nina’s body type as a romantic and powerful character.

Hamliet Likes Malina Now

Insofar as the trilogy storyline goes, the best change the show made was Mal. He still is the same character from the books, but much more likable. The pining was... a lot (too much in episode 4, I felt) but Malina is a ship I actually enjoyed in the show while I NOTP’d it in the books. Mal has complexity and layers to his motivations (somewhat) and a likable if awkward charm. Archie Renaux was fantastic.

Ben Barnes is the perfect Aleksandr Kirigan, and 15 year old me, who had the biggest of big crushes on Ben Barnes (first celebrity crush over a decade ago lol), was pretty damn happy lol. He’s magnificantly acted--sympathetic and terrifying, sincerely caring and yet villainous in moments. Story-wise, I think it was smart to reveal his name earlier on than in the books, because it helps with the humanization especially in a visual medium like film. Luda was a fitting (if heartbreaking) backstory, but it is also hard for me to stomach knowing what the endgame of his character is. Like... I get the X-men fallacy thing, but I hope the show gives more kindness to his character than the books did, yet I’m afraid to hold my breath. Just saying that if you employ save the cat, if you directly say you added this part (Luda) to make the character more likable (as the director did) please do not punish the audience for feeling what you intended.

I also liked the change that made Alina half-Shu. It adds well to her arc and fits with her character, actually giving her motivations (she kinda just wants to be ordinary in a lot of ways) a much more interesting foundation than in the books. Also it’s nice not to have another knock-off Daenerys (looking to you Celaena and book!Alina). Jessie Mei Li does a good job playing Alina’s insecurities and emotions, but...

Narrative: The Ehhhhhhh

Alina the Lamp

Sigh. Here we go. Alina has little consistent characterization. She’s almost always passive when we see her, yet she apparently punches an officer for calling her a name and this seems to be normal for her, but it doesn’t fit at all with what we know about her thus far. Contradictions are a part of humanity, but it’s never given any focus, so it comes across as inconsistent instead of a flaw or repression.

I have no idea what Alina wants, beside that she wants to be with Mal, which is fine except I have no idea what the basis of their bond is. Even with like, other childhood friends to lovers like Ren/Nora in RWBY or Eren/Mikasa in SnK, there’s an inciting moment, a reason, that we learn very early on in their story to show us what draws them together. Alina and Mal just don’t have that. There’s the meadow/running away thing, but they were already so close, and why? Why, exactly? What brought them together? The term “bullies” is thrown around but it isn’t ever explored and it needed to be this season. If I have to deal with intense pining for so many episodes at least give me a foundation for their devotion. You need to put this in the beginning, in the first season. You just do.

A “lamp” character is a common metaphor to describe a bad character: essentially, you could replace the character with a lamp and nothing changes. Considering Alina’s gift is light, it’s a funnily apt metaphor, but it really does apply. Her choices just don’t... matter. She could be a special lamp everyone is fighting over and almost nothing would change. The ironic thing is that everyone treating her like a fancy lamp is exactly the conflict, but it’s never delved into. We’re never shown that Alina is more than a lamp. She never has to struggle because her choices are made for her and information is gifted to her when she needs it. Not making choices protects Alina from consequences and the story gives her little incentive to change that; in fact, things tend to turn out better when she doesn’t make choices (magic stags will arrive).

Like... let’s look at a few occasions when Alina almost or does make choices. For example, she chooses to (it seems) sleep with Kirigan, but then there’s a convenient knock at the door and Bhagra arrives with key information that changes Alina’s mind instantly despite the fact that Bhagra’s been pretty terrible to her. If you want to write a woman realizing she’s been duped by a cruel man, show her discovering it instead of having the man’s abusive mother tell her when she had absolutely no such suspicions beforehand. There’s no emotional weight there because Alina doesn’t struggle.

When she is actually allowed to carry out a bad choice, the consequences are handwaved away instead of built into a challenge for her. Like... Alina got her friends killed. More than once. I’m not saying she’s entirely to blame for these but could we show her reacting to it? Feeling any sort of grief? She never mentions Raisa or Alexei after they’re gone, just Mal, and I’m... okay. They were there because of you. Aren’t you feeling anything? Aren’t you sad? The only time Alina brings up her friends’ deaths is to tell Kirigan he killed her friends when they were only there because she burned the maps. She yells at Kirigan for “never” giving her a choice, but she almost never makes any, so why would he? Alina has the gall to lecture Genya about choices, but she herself almost never has to make any.

Which brings me to another complaint in general: Alina’s lack of care for everyone around her when they’re not Mal, even if they care for her. Marie dies because of her (absolutely not her fault of course) but as far as we know she never even learns about Marie. She certainly doesn’t ever ask about her or Nadia. Alina seems apathetic at best to people, certainly not compassionate or kind.

The frustrating thing is that there is potential here. Like, it actually makes a lot of psychological sense for an orphan who has grown up losing to be reluctant to care for people outside of her orbit and that she would struggle to believe she can have any say in her destiny (ie make choices). It’s also interesting that a girl who feels like an outsider views others outside her. But the show never offers examines Alina’s psychology with any depth; it simply tells us she’s compassionate when she is demonstrably not, it tells us she makes decisions when it takes magical intervention to do so. It’s a missed opportunity. This does not change between episodes 1 and 8, despite the episodes’ parallel structures and scenes, which unintentionally reinforces that Alina had little real development.

Inej and ironically Jesper and Kaz embody the concept of “mercy” far better and with far more complexity than Alina does. The Crows have reactions to the loss of people who even betray them (Arken, etc), learn, and course-correct (or don’t) when they are even loosely involved in having strangers die. They’re good characters because they change and learn and have their choices matter. When they kill we see them wrestle with it and what this means even if they are accustomed to doing so. Jesper can’t kill in front of a child. Kaz wonders what his killings do to Inej’s idea of him.

Narrative: The Mixed Bag

Tropes, Themes, Telling vs. Showing

So the show’s themes in the Alina storyline are a mess, as they are in the trilogy too. Tropes are a very valuable way to show your audience what you’re trying to say. They’re utilized worldwide because they resonate with people and we know what to expect from them. The Crows' storyline shows us what it wants us to learn.

Preaching tells, and unfortunately, the trilogy relies on telling/preaching against fornicationBad Boys. It’s your right to write any trope or trample any trope you want--your story--but you should at least understand what/why you are doing so. The author clearly knows enough about Jungian shadows and dark/light yin/yang symbolism to use it in the story, but then just handwaves it away as “I don’t like this” but never does so in a narratively effective way: addressing the appeal in the first place. If you really wanna deconstruct a trope, you gotta empathize with the core of the reason these tropes appeal to people (it allays deep fears that we are ourselves unlovable, through loving another person despite how beastly they can be), and address this instead of ignoring it. Show us a better way through the Fold of your story. Don’t just go around it and ignore the issue.

The trilogy offers highly simplistic themes at best--bad boy bad and good boy good, which is fine-ish for kid lit but less fine for adult complexity, which the show (more so than the books) seems to try to push despite not actually having much of it.

Alina and Mal are intended to be good, we’re told they are, but I’m not sure why beyond just that we’re told so. Alina claims the stag chose her, but in the show it’s never explained why at all. Unlike with Kaz, Inej, Jesper, and hell even Matthias and Nina, we don’t see Alina or Mal’s complex choices and internal wrestling.

Like, Inej’s half-episode where she almost killed the guy they needed was far more character exploration than Alina has the entire show, to say nothing of Inej’s later killing which not only makes her leaps and bounds more interesting, but ironically cements her as a far more compelling and yes, likable, heroine than Alina. We see Inej’s emotional and moral conflict. We can relate to her. We see Kaz struggling with his selfishness and regrets, with his understanding of himself through his interactions with and observations of Inej, Alina, the Darkling, Arken, and Jesper.

We don’t explore what makes Mal or Alina good and what makes them bad. We don’t know what Alina discovers about herself, what her power means for her. We are told they are good, we are told she knows her power is hers, but never shown what this means or what this costs them/her. Their opportunities to be good are handed to them (the stag, Bhagra) instead of given to them as a challenge in which they risk things, in which doing good or making a merciful choice costs them. Alina gets to preach about choices without ever making any; Inej risks going back to the Menagerie to trust Kaz. Her choices risk. They cost. They matter and direct her storyline and her arc, and those of the people around her.

Production Stuff:

The Good:

The production overall is quite excellent. The costumes, pacing, acting, and cinematography (for example, one of the earliest scenes between the Darkling and Alina has Alina with her back to the light, face covered in his shadow, while the Darkling’s face is light up by her light even if he stands in the shadows) are top-notch. The soundtrack as well is incredible and emphasizes the scenes playing. The actors have great chemistry together, friend chemistry and romantic when necessary (Mal and Alina, the Darkling and Alina, Kaz and Inej, Nina and Matthias, David and Genya, etc.) All are perfectly cast.

The Uncomfortable Technicalities Hamliet Wants to Bitch About:

The only characters from fantasy!Europe having any trace of an accent reminiscent of said fantasy country's real-world equivalent are antagonists like Druskelle (Scandinavia) and Pekka (Ireland). When the heroes mostly have British accents despite being from fantasy Russia and Holland, it is certainly A Choice to have the Irish accent emphasized. The actor is British by the way, so I presume he purposely put on an Irish accent. I'm sure no one even considered the potential implications of this but it is A Look nonetheless.

The Anachronisms Hamliet Has a Pet Peeve About:

The worldbuilding is compelling, but the only blight on the worldbuilding within the story itself (ignoring context) was that there are some anachronisms that took me out of the story, particularly in the first episode where “would you like to share with the class” and “saved by the horn” are both used. Both are modern-day idioms in English that just don’t fit, especially the latter. The last episode uses “the friends we made along the way.” There are other modern idioms as well.

IT’S STARKOVA and Other Pet Peeves Around the Russian Portrayal

Russian names are not hard, and Russian naming systems are very, very easy to learn. I could have waved “Starkov” not being “Starkova,” “Nazyalensky” not being “Nazyalenskaya,” and “Safin” not being “Safina” as an American interpretation (since in America, the names do not femininize). However, “Mozorova” as a man is unfathomable and suggests to me the author just doesn’t understand how names work, which is a bit... uh okay considering a simple google search gets you to understand Russian names. They aren’t hard. I cannot understand why the show did not fix this. It is so simple to fix and would be a major way to help the story’s overall... caricature of Russia.

Speaking of that... Ravka is supposedly Russian-based, but it is more accurately based on the stereotypes of what Americans think of Russia. Amerussia? Russica? Not great.

The royals are exactly what Americans think of the Romanovs, right down to the “greasy” “spiritual advisor” who is clearly Rasputin and which ignores the Romanov history, very real tragedy, and the reason Rasputin was present in the court. The religion with all its saints is a vapid reflection of Russian Orthodoxy. The military portrayal with its lotteries and brutality and war is how the US views the Russian military. The emphasis on orphans, constant starvation, classification, and children being ripped from their homes to serve the government is a classic US understanding of USSR communism right down to the USSR having weapons of destruction the rest of the world fears (Grisha). Not trying to defend the Soviet Union here at all, but it is simplistic and reductive and probably done unconsciously but still ehhhh.

However, I’m not Russian. I just studied Russian literature. I’ve seen very little by way of discussion of this topic online, but what I do see from Russian people has been mixed--some mind, some don’t. The reality is that I actually don’t really mind this because it’s fantasy, though I see why some do. I'm not like CANCEL THIS. So why am I talking about this beyond just having a pet peeve?

Well, because it is a valid critique, and because it doesn’t occur in a vacuum. The Grishaverse is heralded as an almost paragon for woke Young Adult literature, which underlines itself what so frustrates me about how literary circles discuss issues of diversity and culture. Such praise, while ignoring its quasi-caricature of Russia, reflects a very ethnocentric (specifically American) understanding of culture, appropriation, and representation. All stories are products of their culture to various extents, but it bothers me on principle what the lit community reacts (and overreacts sometimes?) to and what people give a pass to. The answer to what the community reacts to and what it gives a pass always pivots on how palatable the appropriation is to American understandings and sensibilities. There’s nuance here as well, though.

I'm not cancelling the story or thinking it should be harshly attacked for this, but it is something that can be discussed and imo should be far more often--but with the nuance it begs, instead of black/white. But that’s a tall ask.

#s&b #hamliet reviews #shadow and bone #six of crows #kanej #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #the darkling #darklina #malina #aleksander kirigan #netflix shadow and bone #s&b review

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

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Karaoke (My Hero Academia)

One Shot

Shipping: Kaminari x Deku (KamiDeku)

Summary: Kaminari isn't the best at karaoke, but when he gets his feelings hurt by Deku giggling at his efforts, Deku does everything in his power to make him feel better. ^^

A/N: I wrote this one especially for @kiyachi-tickles! While browsing through her blog a while back I saw that she really liked the KamiDeku shipping (although of course now I can't find that post for reference), so I set out to write one, since I don't see much of this pairing. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 1,197

~~~

Deku had learned a lot of things about Kaminari lately. He had a thing for keeping his hands and nails clean as much as possible. He enjoyed getting manicures, though he made Deku swear never to tell anyone else. He liked romance anime. Coffee was his favorite ice cream flavor.

But – above all else – Deku had learned that Kaminari was really, really bad at karaoke.

It wasn’t that he was bad at singing; he could hold a tune, and of course Deku thought he had a wonderful singing voice. But karaoke set the pace and tempo of the song for you, and that was the part Kaminari was bad at. He liked to improv his way through a song, setting his own tempo at random. But karaoke was unforgiving in that domain, and so when they played the instrumentals to some of their favorite songs while hanging out one night, Deku couldn’t help but laugh at how Kaminari struggled to keep up with the tempo that was set for him. To anyone else it would have sounded like he was just as good or bad as the next person, but to Deku, it was the funniest thing in the world.

Kaminari, however, took it personally.

“Let’s just shut it off,” he muttered, reaching for the laptop on his desk.

Deku grabbed his arm. “But why? Aren’t you having fun?”

“I was until I tried singing along. Now you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not – okay, well, I am laughing at you, but not in a bad way! I’m not trying to be mean, I promise.” Deku tugged on his arm, drawing him closer. “I’m sorry. You sound great, Denks.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” Deku shifted so he was facing his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Kaminari’s neck. “Your singing voice is lovely. I mean it.”

Kaminari sighed, but there was a light pink flush to his cheeks now. “Can we just shut it off?”

Deku paused, then nodded. “If you really want to.”

Kami stopped the YouTube queue, and the room went silent.

“I hate karaoke,” the blonde muttered after a long moment.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Deku smiled. “You just like to set your own pace, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You were laughing at me. It must have been bad.”

“I’m really sorry, Denki. I wasn’t trying to be mean about it. I just thought it was cute that you were having trouble keeping tempo, and I got the giggles. That’s all.”

“Hmph.” Kami grunted, slouching back down onto the floor. “Whatever.”

Deku grinned, poking his side. “Come on, I said I’m sorry. Can’t you forgive me?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Pleeeeease?” Deku mock-whined, poking him again, then again and again. With each poke Kami scooted further and further away until he was practically falling onto the floor. “Please forgive me, Denks? I’m sorry~”

“S-Stop it, Izuku,” Kami sputtered, doing his best to stay upset despite the ticklish shocks running through his nervous system. He reached to push his boyfriend away, but when he did so he lost his balance and fell onto his back on the floor.

Deku was on him in an instant, straddling his hips and poking up and down his sides. “Forgive me, Denki~ I’m so sorry for laughing at you~” Every word the green-haired boy spoke sounded teasy, and he knew it was driving Kaminari insane. “Please, Denki?”

“Stohohohop it,” Kami giggled, quickly losing his willpower to remain pouty. He tried to block Deku’s hands, but whenever he tried to protect one spot it only opened up another, and he was flustered and embarrassed and desperately trying to keep his laughter at bay. “Izuku, stohohohohohop!”

“Forgive meeeee,” Deku whined, jamming his hands underneath Kami’s arms and tickling harshly. “Denkiiiii~”

“Nahahahahahahahahaha!” Kami squealed, clamping his arms to his sides too late to actually protect himself. He squirmed on the ground at his boyfriend’s mercy, giggling hysterically. “Stahahahahahahahahap!”

“If you won’t forgive me, I’ll just keep tickling you~” Deku giggled too, unable to help himself. This was all so silly, but he loved it, and he knew Kaminari did, too. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“D-Dohohohohon’t – don’t tehehehehease me, Izuku! Stahahahahahahahap!”

Deku decided to be a little bit mean, and he reached behind him to blindly grasp at Kaminari’s knees – his weakest spot. “Oh, Denki~ Your singing voice is so lovely~ I looooove you~”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Kami screeched, giggles bursting into laughter when his boyfriend successfully grabbed his kneecap and squeezed it, hard. “NOHOHOHOHOHO, IZUKU!!”

“I looooooove you!”

Kaminari squealed with laughter, allowing himself a couple of moments to indulge before he mustered up the strength to sit up and grab Deku around his waist, finding his hips with ease and kneading there.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Deku cried, instantly ceasing his own tickle attack to defend himself, a genuine smile replacing his teasy one. “DENKIHIHIEHEHEHEHE!!”

Denki chuckled, wrestling Deku onto his back on the floor and straddling him the way he’d been just seconds ago, slipping his fingers just underneath the waistband of Deku’s shorts to get at the really, really ticklish spots. Deku howled with laughter.

“Still think it’s funny, huh, Izuku?” Kami teased relentlessly, beaming at the way the freckled boy’s face lit up like a fireworks show at the teasing, his legs kicking frantically behind him, absolute hysterics flying from his lips. “If it’s so funny, then go ahead and laugh!”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Deku screamed, grabbing Kami’s wrists but too weak to do anything more than hold them. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! I’M SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY!!”

“What are you sorry for exactly, hmm?” Kami teased, leaning down to murmur directly in Deku’s ear, his breath tickling his neck. “For laughing at me? For tickling me? Which is it, Izuku?”

Deku squealed, throwing his head back with a shriek when Kami kneaded into a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves. He kicked his legs for a few more seconds before it registered how close Kami was now, and he released his wrists in favor of grabbing his sides and tickling.

Kaminari yelped, but didn’t move, determined to stay right where he was. He had Deku right where he wanted him, and he was not about to give that up because of a little tickling. “Sahahahahahay it, Izuku! Tehehehehell me why you’re sohohohohorry!”

“I’M SOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY FOR LAHAHAHAHAHAUGHING AT YOHOHOHOU!!”

“That’s it?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!”

“Yohohohohou’re not sohohohohorry for tickling mehehehe?”

Kami kneaded just right into the hollows of Deku’s hips, and Deku tossed his head back with a scream of laughter, gripping Kami’s sides harder, making the blonde giggle even more.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“You’re nohohohohohot?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, DENKI!!”

Kaminari let out a few more giggles before capturing Deku’s mouth with his, effectively muffling both of their ticklish cries at once. For a few more moments, he kept kneading that death spot on his boyfriend’s hips, but gradually he let up, sliding his hands further up Deku’s body, up to his chest, and Deku responded by sliding his hands up Kaminari’s back, and soon they had forgotten all about tickling entirely. All that mattered was each other, and the rest of the night was filled with kisses and cuddles and lots and lots of love.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #denki #kaminari #izuku #midoriya #deku #kamideku #karaoke #cute #fluff #playful #teasing #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 4

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Summary: PART 4 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and now having to deal with the reality of his Death Eater status.

Warnings: lots of ANGST (but also tiniest bit of fluff), lots of tears, lots of emotional pain on everyone

Words: 7.5K

A/N: FINALLLYYYY i had no idea what to do with this but something finally came to me !!!! and also an ending ;( so there will only be maybe one or two parts after this one since it is a miniii series BUT FOR NOW I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND IGNORE ANY PLOT HOLES FROM THE ACTUAL HP UNIVERSE I TRIED MY V BEST AHHH <33333 do not own gif.

There was an unsettling sense of impending doom that washed over the Hogwarts castle in heavy rain and dark thunderous clouds. The familiar orange and bright sunlight and purple-pink sunsets were gone, the sun only making meek appearances through the thick rainy covers of the sky before disappearing into the nightfall. No one knew what was coming or what to expect. Schooling continued like normal and everyone had entrusted that whatever was the situation outside the bewitched stone walls of Hogwarts; there was no way it could get past the protection charms put in place by the all-powerful Headmaster and his fellow teachers.

The only two people in the school who couldn’t share that same comfort with their peers were also the only ones in the school who had an inkling of what was going to happen next. The second Draco realized he had successfully mended the vanishing cabinet he had a squirming sense of regret and guilt begin to eat away at him. You felt the same burn of shame in you when you mulled over the fact that it was you who had encouraged him to keep at it even when he continuously wanted to quit.

So now here you were, in the chilled room of requirement after finding out the cabinet worked only minutes ago, the two of you sitting in silence together on an old pile of junk while you held a shivering Draco with his face buried in your neck. There was a feeling of droplets of quiet tears falling onto your skin while you pet the top of his silver-stricken hair in reassurance and tried to hold your own tears back. The breakthrough that was supposed to be the biggest accomplishment of the young Death Eater ended up feeling like his biggest failure and it devastated him more than he could have ever fathomed.

When he had finally gathered himself together, he stood up and totteringly fixed the wrinkles on his black suit before offering you a trembling hand. You took it and allowed him to walk you out of the room and back into the empty corridors and towards the staircases. It was a silent trip down to the dungeons and you didn’t want to ask where he was taking you but you regretted not doing so when he stopped the two of you outside a certain greasy-haired Professor’s door. He brought his free hand up to the wood and let his knuckles hit against it faintly with one knock before you rushed to stop him as you yanked the two of you away from the door once you had realized how unwise this felt.

“What are you doing?!” you asked him in a hushed fearful tone.

“I have to tell Snape about the vanishing cabinet,” he responds dully.

“I don’t think he’d like me to be here when you tell him that-”

There was a sudden clicking sound, the door of the office swinging open as Snape emerged from the room with an angered expression when he saw the two of you standing there. When his dark eyes landed on you specifically, you shivered underneath his vexed gaze. It was clear, just how you had said, he did not want you there.

“Inside, now, Draco.” He grits the demand through his teeth.

“Y/N is coming in too,” the Slytherin says quickly, earning another scowl from his Professor. He stepped aside from the door with a visible rage as you followed Draco inside to the dingy room lined with jars filled with weird unnameable objects.

Draco stopped in the middle of the room, reaching for your hand again and tightly gripping it in reassurance. You stared into his worried gray’s with fear, silently begging him to not let you go as Snape walked past the both of you.

“Do you have any idea how imprudent you are, Draco?” Snape sneered, staring down the boy beside you who kept a straight face. “Do you understand how reckless this is? How much does she know?”

“Everything, Professor,” Draco answers quietly. There was a fiery glint in Snape’s eyes as he looked towards you now, his lips curling upwards in a snarl.

“Foolish girl with an equally foolish boy,” he scowls. “You have nothing to do with any of this. You have done nothing but write yourself a death sentence all for the sake of what... love?”

“With all due respect, Professor,” you start timidly, “I knew what the consequences would be if I stayed with Draco and I will gladly accept whatever fate is in store for me for my decision. I also promise you my silence with everything I know.”

Draco squeezed your hand and glanced towards you with a sadness you were easily able to see.

“How touching,” Snape says lowly. “So you’re prepared to die at the hands of the Dark Lord? Or perhaps at the hands of his precious aunt who might get to you first?”

“Yes, I am” you stood tall when you answered, hoping to appear courageous for not only a very doubtful Snape but more for Draco who you felt cringe every time your possible death was mentioned.

He said nothing, but his mind was swarming with thoughts and plans on how he could save you from every dangerous person and outcome that tormented his surroundings. There was one constant threat after another and although he’s contemplated on it several times, there was no solution he could come up with where the two of you stayed together and you would survive. He mentally kicks himself, wishing he pushed aside his own selfish needs and never promised you he wouldn’t leave you again and he wishes now more than ever that he could. It wasn’t because he didn’t love you - it was the opposite of that. He loved you almost too much and as dreadful situations were approaching, he wished he could leave you out of the death and destruction that would soon ensue on everyone, especially you, all because of him. All because he needed you by his side for him to even feel any sense of life in him that kept him going.

“Very well, then, I cannot stop you from these naive decisions,” Snape sighs deeply in defeat and faces the troubled blond, “and what of the vanishing cabinet?”

You felt Draco stiffen, a trembling exhale falling from his lips before responding with, “it’s done.”

“Excellent, expect their arrival soon,” he rounds his desk, stopping right above his chair, “you may leave.”

You hurriedly turned to go, tugging on Draco’s hand as you did so and the both of you drudged out of the office with a heavy sensation settling over the both of you. There was nothing either of you could do now. There was no more stalling with the cabinet, no more keeping quiet, no more hopeful possibilities that things could turn out differently.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was nearly physically painful to attend all your classes today. It was fake smiles and conversations that left you feeling pathetically phony -feeling like you were lying to everyone that they were going to be okay when they weren’t. You even made plans with housemates to have a little gathering in the common room later in the week to celebrate someone’s birthday and plans with friends to go study in the library with them.

It even hurt to see your Professors, always kind and helpful, not knowing that sometime in the near future, they’ll be either fighting for their life or the lives of students at Hogwarts.

Draco had it even worse. Not one peep from him throughout any of his classes. He was deathly quiet, walking around looking like a kicked puppy and avoided any conversation or interaction with anyone, not even eye contact. He just felt so guilty that he was going to be the reason why death would inevitably wreak havoc on so many souls. He knows eventually the dark wizard he’s resentfully following would have found a way inside the castle walls somehow - you had reminded him that countless times, but it still left him wondering what would have happened if he couldn’t fully mend the cabinet or refused to.

Halfway through the day, he saw you in Slughorn’s class. The two of you worked diligently together through the whole lesson and when the bell rang, he gave you a small kiss goodbye before walking over to his other class. Your worried eyes followed his retreating figure, leaving you a chilling feeling as he disappeared down the hall.

During his next class, he sat in the far end of a classroom, slumped in his chair with his chin on his palm as he thought of you. He wishes he could be stronger for you, braver and less cowardly. He wished he was unafraid of consequences and could simply grab you and his mother, and eventually even his father, and just apparate to somewhere far away and hidden where the Dark Lord and his followers couldn’t get to him or those he loved. But he knew that no matter how much he wished it or try to convince himself he could; he couldn’t do it and he knows his family wouldn’t let him either.

When classed had finally ended for the day and the corridors were packed with rushing bodies of people meeting up with their friends as they laughed and talked with a weightless glee, Draco found himself pushing past everyone like a mindless zombie as his feet mindlessly carried him throughout the school with no specific destination. There was no moment of peace in his head, just a raging battlefield of endless awful possibilities.

You had been scurrying through the halls, hoping to find the mop of platinum blond amongst the busy crowd of people. The scene felt like a maze, twisting and turning through people and corners until you felt like you were on the edge of madness.

There was a small tap on your shoulder before a large hand had snaked down your arm and into your hand with its familiar cold grasp. You sighed in relief, your head turning softly to face your noticeably stressed boyfriend who had put on a very feeble smile for you.

“Can we go somewhere else,” he asked faintly, leaning down towards your ear as he spoke, “I can’t be here anymore.”

You nodded eagerly, moving the two of you towards the nearest exit of the castle, finally releasing a breath of fresh air when you felt your shoes sink into the soft earth below you. There was a humid and muddy smell in the air, the soil, and plants still wet from the on and off rain that had been occurring for the past few days.

Far from the school and on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, there stood a tall and sturdy tree. It was the new tree you had picked for the two of after the first fall out between you and Draco. Its trunk was thick and wide, allowing both of you to hide from anyone who passed by or saw it in the distance. The tresses of leaves nearly showered onto the ground from its long branches that twisted and turned in ways that appeared like it was trying to hug itself. It almost looked like a huge, untrimmed dome, encircling you inside its core while it protected you from unwanted attention. It was perfect.

When you finally reached it, you pushed back some of the leaves so you could walk into the dimly lit and vast space it naturally created and plopped yourself against the trunk with a deep exhale. Draco sat down with you, adjusting himself so that he could lay his head on your lap, humming comfortably when your fingers began their usual work through the soft strands of his hair.

You sat there in silence as the both of you thought, and thought, and thought. It was hard to believe that only this morning you were standing in the room of requirement with him, shocked and distressed that he had finally fixed the vanishing cabinet. Now Snape and the rest of the Death Eaters were aware of the new opening into Hogwarts, preparing to set ablaze the school with pain and some sort of destruction.

You looked down at the boy in your lap, a permanent wrinkle in between his eyebrows as he lied staring straight ahead, a lost look in his gray eyes that you hadn’t seen in so long.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. One of your hands had trailed from his hair and rested gently on his forehead, your pinky gently trying to smooth out the crease between his eyes.

“I should have never fixed the cabinet,” he sighs and sits up to face you. You noticed the glassy look and reddened lash lines, the storming tears ready to come out at any moment.

"Draco, anything that happens next is not your fault,” you tried to reassure but it only made him feel worse.

“No, it’s not only that,” he lets out a shaky breath, letting the first tear fall that he couldn’t hold back. “I have to dedicate myself to my second task now.”

You froze as you remembered the biggest responsibility he had, demanded to him by the Dark Lord himself - the obligation of killing Dumbledore. A mere 16-year-old boy, who was in the middle of a collapsed world and broken judgments, was burdened with the worst trial of them all.

Draco shuddered at the thought, moving to sit beside you against the tree as he sat with his knees pulled to his chest and the waterfall of tears now falling freely down his face.

“I can’t kill him, I don’t want to kill him,” he lamented, “I can’t do it. He’ll kill me first before I can even try.”

You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing soothing circles into it as you let him cry and thought of what you could say. The vanishing cabinet was one thing, but this, this was a life. This was someone who is known to be the most powerful wizard of all time, the only one alive right now who the enemy truly feared. This was someone who everyone needed alive at this time. If Draco went through with this, he would never be able to recover. You know he doesn’t want to do it, at all, and having everyone else in his life nag at him in encouragement is the opposite of what he needs. You truly couldn’t give him any advice on what he can do or why he should.

“I don’t think he would,” you started quietly, trying to find the words to piece together what you wanted to say, “kill you, I mean. I think you’re so used to You-Know-Who, that, you forget Dumbledore isn't evil and is merciful. And maybe, if you stall long enough, someone else can do it? Maybe Bellatrix.”

Draco let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head at the suggestion, “my dear aunt Bellatrix more than anyone, wants me to do it.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help,” you frowned, letting the back of your head fall against the tree as you stared up at the swinging greenery above you.

“You can help by keeping yourself alive,” he sniffles, his cold hand enveloping itself in yours as he spoke. “If there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it’s you. I think you not being here on this Earth, would feel far, far worse than taking Dumbledore’s life.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a warm kiss onto the skin before he held it against his chest.

“I wish I could put you in a bubble and send you up above the clouds so you could watch the sky all day and be happy, and most of all safe from everything evil,” he muses, a slight smile on your lips as you listened to his wish. His fingers began twirling around the band on your wrist, the same band he had gifted you the night before when everything seemed to be okay, in a sense.

“Evil will always be here, Dark Wizards present or not,” you remind him gingerly, “just as there will always be good. It’s a balance, one can’t be here without the other.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs. “But I still wish it was possible to send you away in a bubble.”

“If that was possible, you know you would come with me, right?” You turn your head, smiling at him when he met your eyes. You brought up your held hand, wiping away the stray tears that had lingered on his paled cheeks as he kept a firm grasp on your wrist.

“I would love to go with you,” he said tenderly, heart-swelling at how easy you made him feel calm and present. It was wonderous, he felt, how someone had managed to make him feel this way. He never would have thought he’d have someone who genuinely loved him and he loved back, in his love life. Especially not at this time, in this year, where he was facing his worst tribulations and turmoils.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you now staring up into the darkening grayed sky that peeked through the mess of leaves above.

“It’s getting dark, we should probably go soon,” you mumble tiredly, noticing how the moon was already starting to make an appearance behind the heavy gray clouds. "And it looks like it's about to rain."

As soon as the words left your mouth, there was a loud cracking of thunder, the tree’s branches surrounding you suddenly shaking at the sound. You shot up to your feet, Draco following closely as the two of you heard a whining sound coming directly from the trunk of the tree. Its leaves began to move wildly in the wind that approached, more booming of thundering filling the air as a storm above began to brew. The branches began to swing carefully and more inwards as if it was alive and closing itself up from any danger that was coming from around or above it. The leaves were falling over one another, covering up any spaces in the tree that the constricting branches couldn’t cover.

“Draco,” you say timidly, reaching for his hand in fear, “is it just me, or is the tree moving?”

The space underneath the tree had shrunken significantly, it was now a small circle going around the trunk that was big enough to walk around but not enough to run through like you once could. Whatever light the outside was able to offer was now gone, the cracking and compressing branches and leaf clumps blocked out everything from the outside, including the rain that you could very loudly hear pattering against the fronds above you.

“I think its closed us in,” Draco mutters, moving you behind his back as he pulled his wand from his pocket and whispered a quick, ‘lumos,’ so that the two of you could see. He held you behind him protectively as he stepped towards the walls of the tree, pushing against the leaves and branches that were now tightly contracted together that allowed no room for escape. “We’re stuck in here - unless you want to blast a hole through it.”

“No!” you exclaim immediately. You moved away from him and walked towards the trunk of the tree, placing a gentle hand on the dry wood that still seemed to be faintly buzzing from its movement. “We’re not going to hurt it.”

“Y/N, we’re stuck in here, no one knows where we are-” he tries to reason more but you shush him quickly.

“And that’s such a bad thing?” you scoff, moving to press your ear against the wood as you tried to examine it more. You heard the same whining from earlier but much weaker now, its bellows fading now as it felt protected from the storm.

“What are you doing?”

There was confusion written all over the blond’s face as he watched you inspect the tree, curious and concerned with your attentiveness.

“Dray, come here,” you rushed out, motioning towards you so he would hurry over. He let you grab his free hand when he reached you since his wand hand was still casting the only light around you. You placed it against the trunk of the tree with yours, a sudden vibration shooting up his arm at the contact with the wood. “The tree is a sentient. It’s alive and very aware.”

“What, so like the Whomping Willow?”

“Exactly like that, but not aggressive at all,” you nod, beaming up at him. “I think it knows we’re here too.”

For a moment, there was finally a fleeting feeling of glee as both of your worries from the outside left you, allowing reverence and excitement to fill you and spread to Draco.

“You speak tree now?” He snickers, smirking at you when you rolled your eyes.

You leaned your head against the tree, closing your eyes as you quietly thanked it for its protection from the thunder and the rain and its beauty. Draco’s gaze stayed on you, watching you with wonder and fullness in his heart. He began to question himself how someone like you was real, who was so caring with everything you touched, from nature to people. You radiated bravery, loyalty, strong intelligence, and ambition wherever you went and in every situation, you were in.

How did I get so lucky, he kept thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a bright glittering blue light, and then a purple one, then a pink, and a white. He fully looked up and inhaled faintly when he saw what they all were.

Small translucent and thin stringy flowers of all colors that he could think of began to illuminate themselves from the many branches of the tree before floating off, dancing and twirling in the air as they descended towards the two of you. He noticed they looked nearly identical to spider lily’s - all thanks to Professor Sprout when he was forced to learn several different flowers in her class.

He nudged you gently, pointing up to the air when you opened your eyes and you stepped away from the trunk to look around in awe. There must have been at least a hundred of them spinning and flying, their petals bouncing up and down as they carried themselves around the open area.

You reached up your palm, catching one in your hand as it landed daintily and glowed a bright rose color, its petals still lifting up and down like if it was keeping itself afloat. You turned to bring it carefully towards Draco, almost jumping up and down in excitement that it was on you. He turned off the light of his wand with an easy, ‘nox,’ putting it away now that the area was now fully lit up in beautifully twinkling lights. He smiled down at you, placing both his hands under your one as he helped you hold it up since you were nearly exploding from happiness.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you whispered in wonder. “I didn’t even know trees could do this! Our tree!”

“I think this is only because of you, darling,” he whispers back. “You have a way of bringing dull things to life.”

Your gaze flickered up, smiling warmly at him before pushing up gently on the flower, encouraging it to fly away so you could move. You got closer to the Slytherin, his arms encircling around your waist once you were flush against him. One of the green flowers had landed on the top of his hair, settling itself carefully on him.

“I’ve got one on me, haven’t I?” He chuckles and you nod, a bright smile on your face as you looked between him and the flower.

“It likes you,” you beam. “But, not as much as I do.”

He laughs a real laugh of delight and amusement, squeezing you delicately tighter against him.

“Obviously.”

You stood on your tip-toes to reach his tall figure, craning your face up and pressing your lips against his in a loving match. You parted your lips and allowed his warmth to wash all over you in comfort, all thoughts being numbed at the feeling. As your lips continued to move against his, you began to feel a tickling all over your hair and whatever skin was exposed to the air. You pulled away from him curiously, gasping softly when you saw that all the flowers had flown down towards the two of you landing and sitting on you both as if they were attracted like magnets.

Draco moved one of his clasped hands from your waist up to your cheek, grinning to himself as you leaned your head into his touch.

“I’m glad this tree has us trapped in here,” he mutters. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else with the one I love.”

“I love you more, Draco.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The two of you awoke to the sound of cracking wood and swooshing leaves, a cold breeze following quickly as it encompassed you. You gradually opened your eyes, seeing that the tree was expanding and moving back to its original state and appearing back to normal. Carefully sitting up, you realized the flowers were gone, there was no sight of them anywhere. If it wasn’t for Draco being there with you, you would’ve thought you imagined the whole thing.

Speaking of the said boy, he groaned beneath you, balled fists going up to his closed eyes as he began to rub his sleep away. The early morning light had streamed through weakly through the clouds and through the leaves onto you.

“I wonder if anyone looked for us,” you yawned carelessly, standing up and flattening down the wrinkles on your clothes. You outstretched your hands and back, deeply exhaling at the feeling of relief from the ground below you.

“Probably,” Draco answered sleepily, standing himself up and wiping himself off of all dirt and grime. “We should go back now before it locks s in again.”

You skipped over to the trunk of the tree, placing your hand on it once again and whispering to it a tender, “thank you.”

You could’ve sworn it whined something back, but you brushed it off at your drowsiness and continued towards the castle with Draco.

The two of you walked quietly hand in hand to your common room, stopping outside of it with a sigh as you read a clock on a far-away wall.

7:42 AM

“How long have we been out?�� You question fearfully.

“No idea,” he yawns. “Must have been a very long time though.”

Draco freezes in his spot, feeling his body crawl with what felt like tiny spiders when he saw who was standing at the end of one of the nearby corridors, a scowl on his face when they made eye contact.

“Go inside and get yourself cleaned up and ready for the day, love,” he rushed out, placing a quick kiss on your forehead and parted lips as he nudged you towards the entrance. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You tiredly nodded, giving the required password to the common room before sneakily stepping inside and tip-toeing towards your room.

When the doors finally closed and you were gone, Draco turned down the corridor and started towards a furious Snape down the way. The raven-haired man stayed glued where he stood, patiently waiting for the young Death Eater to approach him so he could swiftly unleash hell on him.

“I have been searching for you all night,” Snape snapped lowly. “Where did the two of you run off to?”

“We got stuck somewhere, but I’m here now,” Draco answers, staring into the accusatory eyes in front of him.

“You better hope you kissed her your final goodbye,” he snarls. “They’re coming tonight, and you must carry out your last duty - tonight.”

“Tonight?” Draco echoes emptily, feeling like whatever happiness he had left in his body from last night was slowly trickling down his body and out into the floor like a sad, melted popsicle.

“Yes, and after tonight you will no longer be a student here,” Snape reminds with a hushed tone. “Miss Y/L/N cannot follow you. I hope you understand that. it would be incredibly dangerous for you and her.”

“No,” Draco begins to shake his head in refusal, his heart dropping to his stomach as the realities began to set in. “I don’t want to leave her, I don’t know how.”

“I think it’s time you start figuring out how,” his Professor suggests inconsiderately. “Room of requirement at nightfall, you’re opening up the cabinet for them so they’re able to transport. Come alone and prepared to leave the school.”

Before Draco could try to argue, Snape brushed past him and disappeared down the corridor and past a corner, leaving behind a pain-stricken boy who was stupidly in love with someone he couldn’t find in him to let go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Something was off and unsettling, you noticed. You weren’t sure where it came from, but you felt it eat away at you even though nothing had happened to you. You came home feeling wonderful from an impromptu dreamy night with Draco, completely love-struck and ditzy and halfway through your shower was when it was all washed away and replaced with dread.

You wondered if this is somehow how Draco was feeling before deciding against your gut.

I’m not a mind reader, you thought repeatedly.

It was odd how you saw him nowhere around the school, even more, odd when you hadn’t seen him in your shared Potions class that left you partnering up with your friend who didn’t mind the on and off switching. She asked you eagerly about your disappearance, expecting juicy details but was immediately bored when you gave her a watered-down story of what had happened.

“Oh, we were just watching the stars and accidentally fell asleep outside,” you lied, trying to force excitement in your voice to make the story more believable.

“That’s it?” she deadpanned. “You guys are so boring. Also, what if something attacked you guys? The Forbidden Forest is right there.”

You rolled your eyes, secretly wishing the two of you really were a simple boring couple and not facing the most life-threatening and scariest adversities.

“I’m sure one of us would’ve woken up if we heard something,” you shrug and she sighs, shaking her head.

There was still no sign of him after this class. And there was still no sign of him after the rest of the schooling day had ended.

You sat with your friends in the bumbling busy courtyard, listening to them quietly as they chatted happily. You were worried out of your mind, the pit in your stomach growing wider when you saw Draco’s familiar group of Slytherins gathered together in the distance, not a single platinum head in sight.

As the day continued into the evening and people were making their trip over to the Great Hall, you made up a quick excuse to your friends and broke off from them to scourge the school in its emptiness. It was quickly getting dark, you finally decided to follow your instincts and let yourself bound down the stoned staircase towards the even darker lit dungeons. It was empty and cold, a dooming atmosphere for no apparent reason.

As you were about to turn around, you heard the door to the Slytherin common room open and relief flooded you when you saw Draco emerge from the exit with a new black suit on, perfectly styled and gelled hair, and a somber expression on his face. He looked paler than usual, almost gray, the way he looked when you had found him that day in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom with a curse ravaging his body.

“Draco!” You called out to him excitedly, running towards him and wrapping your arms around him tightly when you reached him. He felt rigid underneath your touch, a distant look in his eyes as he looked down at you quickly. “Where have you been all day?”

“I’ve had to take care of some stuff,” he murmurs in response.

“Are you okay?” You ask carefully as you observed him. He was cold, emotionally, and physically. He resembled his house’s ghost, the Bloody Baron, cold and angry with hidden despair - just without all the blood.

“I’m fine.”

You stepped away from him at his answer, peering up at him in confusion at his sudden aloofness.

“I need to tell you something,” he ends up breathing out after a moment of awkward tension. His hand wraps around your forearm instead of his usual spot in your hand, nearly dragging you towards an empty classroom that was a few feet away from where you both stood.

He closed the door warily behind him once the two of you were inside, the dingy lamps in the room automatically lighting up when they sensed a presence so you wouldn’t be left in the dark.

“So, what do you need to tell me?” You begin to wring your hands in distress, not feeling hopeful under his miserable gaze.

“We need to end this, here, right now,” he spits out quickly, a troubled expression taking over his features as soon as the words left his lips.

There was a thick silence that fell over the room, a heavy tension that grew with every passing second was bursting at the seams of the walls. You couldn’t think straight, your heart feeling like it had fallen into your back and your stomach bubbling dangerously with bile you desperately wanted to release.

“What do you mean,” you ask stupidly. The tiniest piece of you was desperately hoping that he had meant something completely different than your relationship.

“You and me,” he pointed between the two of you brokenly. “I have to kill Dumbledore tonight, and then I have to leave.”

“I’ll go with you,” you promptly offer, nodding in agreement with yourself.

“You can’t,” he asserts sadly, walking up to you and placing both hands on either side of your biceps, gripping you tightly in place as if you were toppling over. “Y/N, this is the one time you can’t help me. If you come with me tonight, someone will hurt you.”

You stared up at him in dread, relentless tears streaming down your face as he stared back at you with the same look. He was breaking apart, his insides shriveling up in agony while he spoke and continued to hurt you.

“But when will I see you again?” you cry out hoarsely, letting your head fall against his chest as he moves to hug you tightly.

“I don’t know,” he whispers out.

“Draco, please let me come with you,” you begin to plead into the jacket of his suit. “I’ll hide, transfigure me into a goblet, anything! Just please don’t leave again. You promised!”

“I can’t,” he shakes his head. You felt his hot tears land onto the top of your hair, adding more fuel to your anguish. “You have to stay here, in this room, until I’m gone.”

“Are you that dense?” you cry wildly, pushing yourself away from him as you gave him a look of pure anger. “You expect to let me wait here like a sitting duck while I could be out there helping you somehow.”

Draco watched you with remorse, his hand reaching into his suit pocket before drawing his wand out on you with a vigorous trembling hand. You gasped, quick to reach for your own with the same shakiness before it was thrown out of your grasp the second you pointed it at him.

“Expelliarmus,” he said quickly, voice matching his hand. He looked at you painfully again before sputtering out, “locomotor mortis.”

Your legs locked together from beneath you, sending you tumbling backward into an empty desk beside you. You caught yourself on the edges of the desk, staring agape at a shuddering Draco a few feet away.

“I’m sorry,” he cried hard, “I’m so sorry, but I have to keep you safe.”

“Draco, I swear,” you wailed out in despair, “if you leave me here, I will never forgive you.”

Draco halted, contemplating his next move for only a minute. His heart thudding fast against his chest, yearning to give into you as he weighed out his options. He swallowed thickly and turned on his heel towards the door. When his hand landed on the brass handle, he turned back one more time to look at you and felt his world completely and irreversibly shatter.

You were in hysterics, legs stuck together and your hands barely being able to hold yourself up on the desk. You had a despondency about you now, weeping strongly in heartbreak that was caused by him.

He speedily opened the door and threw himself out, shutting it tightly once again and placing his wand against the handle.

“Colloportus,” the lock chimed with a magnifying and powerful click.

He let his head quietly fall against the door, tormenting himself further when he heard your continued cries and now yelling out a pained, “you promised!”

Nothing was holding him together now as he ripped himself away from the door and began his walk to the room of requirement. There was no more hope, no more tranquility, no more comfort. He couldn’t run back to you at the end of the night and let you heal him with soft reassurances and tender kisses. He couldn’t feel your hug anymore or the way you’d lull him to sleep after a rough day with your hands in his hair. It was all gone, all of it. Including you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You don’t know how long you cried or when you had fallen to the floor and accidentally fallen asleep in your hopelessness.

When you finally woke up, the room was especially dark now, the lights having been dimmed to nothing as the room had thought you were gone. All you could feel was grief and dejection, everything you knew and loved had been torn away from you; because it was.

When you subsequently felt some of your energy return, you rolled yourself around the floor, extending your arm to grab onto something sturdy so you could hoist yourself up and begin looking for your wand. Luckily, the lights lit up again when they sensed your figure begin to hop around the room, allowing you to search much more easily.

You hopped down each row of scattered desks, searching high and low for where your wand might have been thrown when you were disarmed. You mentally cursed Draco again for the thousandth time that night, the throbbing in your body growing stronger while you thought of how he had left.

You found yourself regretting the bluff you threw at him, feeling stupid now that he was gone with the idea that you might hate him. You regretted letting your rage and sadness get to you, yelling at him things you didn’t mean all because you were angry he was trying to do to protect you.

Stuck in your head and mindlessly hopping towards the front of the room where Draco had hit you with both spells, you didn’t see your wand under your shoe until it had rolled out from underneath you, sending you falling into a set of desks that were lined up behind you.

The impact of the fall barely phased you, weakly shifting yourself upright and bending over and outstretching a hand towards your wand. When you finally felt it between your fingers, you dragged it towards you and into your grasp before hurriedly pointing it towards your legs and muttering the counter-curse to unbind yourself. Once you felt the feeling back in your legs, you jumped up and ran towards the door only to slam against it, unknowing to you that Draco had also spelled the door before he left.

“Arse,” you mutter, touching your wand against the lock and speaking out a clear, “alohomora.”

When you stepped out into the gloomy freezing corridor of the dungeons, you knew something was wrong. It was clear in the air that something awful had just happened, every feeling of sadness seeping deep into the stone of the castle.

You flew up the stairs, running as fast as you could towards the Quad where everyone was gathered like zombies. Your legs continued carrying you out, looking up at the sky to see a huge Dark Mark painted in the grayed clouds above. Your gut was screaming at you the reason why, but you didn’t want to believe it until you had seen the evidence of your thoughts lying on the ground not far from you.

It was Dumbledore, motionless, and gone.

Harry was sitting above him, Ginny hugging him tightly as he cried quietly. You felt your tears prick your eyes, feeling guilty that you had known all along what was going to happen, guilty that you couldn’t do anything to stop it, guilty that there was no one to challenge against the evil that doomed the wizarding world, guilty that you couldn’t help Draco against it.

You kept telling yourself he couldn’t have done it, he couldn’t have, but it was clear as day - the scene in front of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat, allowing yourself to cry with your school in grief, crying even more while the second loss you experienced tonight had begun to work itself back into your tears.

And when everyone had cleared out, and it was just Harry and a few others, including some Professors, you begrudgingly made yourself walk up to the group. It was hard, seeing Harry and his friends stare at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. A look between pity and something unidentifiable.

“I’m sorry,” you let out hoarsely to Harry as you finally neared them. “I know this must be hard for you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered awkwardly. “I saw it happen, you know.”

“Oh,” you frown, rubbing your sweaty palms against your jeans as you waited for him to curse you out, to yell at you for Draco’s wrongdoings and murderous feat. But he didn’t. He only stared at you sadly.

“If you wanted to know,” he began, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he spoke, “Malfoy didn’t do it, he couldn’t.”

There was a solace that ran deep within you at the revelation. A shaky exhale quietly falling from your lips while you tried to hide your relief. You silently thanked the stars for sparing Draco, knowing now that there was still hope he could be saved.

“So then who did it?” You ask timidly.

“Snape,” he shook his head glumly, “it was Snape.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a loud snapping sound ringing throughout the Malfoy Manor as Draco apparated inside the living room with his mother, clutching tightly onto her as he stumbled over his feet, feeling sick to his stomach and distraught at everything he had to live through that night.

He fell to his knees, backing himself up against a wall as he began clutching at his chest, gasping desperately for air as his panic attack had started to tear away at him. He was breathing erratically, tears falling from his eyes in rivers as he tried to remove the suit jacket that felt too tight against him.

Narcissa Malfoy looked down at her son, fear and sorrow suddenly undertaking her as she bent down to sit in front of him. She was momentarily glad she felt the need to meet the others near the outskirts of the school’s failing barrier, instantly grabbing Draco from the group when everyone was planning on staying longer for further destruction. One broken look on his face was all she needed to whirl the two of them out of there and back into their large empty house.

“Breathe, Draco,” she said softly, placing a warm hand on his wet cheek as he continued to sob. “Breathe.”

“I left her,” he choked out through his tears, “mother, I left her!”

“Who?” Narcissa asked, puzzled. “Who did you leave?”

But he didn’t answer her. He only cried harder and it didn’t stop even though his mother was holding him reassuringly in her embrace. She swiftly realized that there was more than he was letting on, and she knew that these weren’t only tears from what had happened with his failed task, she knew his tears mostly came from an ache deep within his heart, from an anguishing love.

“I left her there!” He cried loudly in her arms, clutching onto her tightly as he continued to struggle for his breath and sanity. She felt her own heart begin to break, wishing so deeply she could remove all hurt that stabbed at him.

“Draco, my love,” she tried again gently, “who did you leave?”

“Y/N,” he croaked out, “I left Y/N.”

PART 5

TAGLIST:

@viirgobbyy @bluesunflowersz @dreamyvcid @goddessofgames @natt-nih @cheesecakes-randomshitz @supersouthy @rebellionsarebuiltonhopee @peter-parka @thefandomplace @angelofslytherin @blueleonor @karentheugly

(I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, I <3 all of you and everyone who read this)

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starkcontrasts · 3 years

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Grimm Ravings

The political connotations of a Grimm having a Hexenbiest baby mama and, eventually, wife are just-

So gorgeous and delightful to consider, if you ask me. Because for all that Nick tries his best to keep his identity secret, that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation. Oh and what a storied reputation it is, especially as the years pass.

I mean, just think about it: Wesen, Resistance Members, Royals, and other Grimms around the world just spreading the hearsay about The Portland Grimm and how he's killed a member of the Royal Family, how he had a brief debacle with but eventually went back to working alongside Another™ member of that same Royal Family. How he outmaneuvered said family in their centuries-long endeavor at attaining godly power, within his first few years as a Decapitare. How he works alongside a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau and has a whole lodge of Eisbiber starry-eyed and willing to call on long-forgotten courage to aid in his pursuits. The Portland Grimm who they say can identify a Wesen from hearing them woge alone and fights with the strength of his entire bloodline (exaggeration? maybe, but who can say. Theresa Rubel aka Trubel aka Hadrian's Grimm, traversing the globe and said Portland Grimm's 3rd cousin, certainly won't be the one to correct them. Neither will Eve, for that matter, but she's mostly helping run HW nowadays so she doesn't get out on the field much unless it's absolutely necessary anyways.). The Portland Grimm who saved a foundational member of the Resistance, sent two heads as a crystal clear "fuck around find out" message to the same organization that has successfully executed a slew of his own ancestors for centuries, and who has killed too many members of the Verrat to count. The Portland Grimm with ties to the Wesen Council, Old and New, and who's been granted diplomatic immunity so long as he keeps his decapitating tendencies to lawbreakers only.

The Portland Grimm who's married to the same Hexenbiest who not only bore a member of the same™ aforementioned Royal Family, but who's eldest daughter is The-Heir-To-Beat and possibly the most powerful being in creation. The Portland Grimm and his Hexenbiest wife who made a child that's an amalgam of two genetically opposed bloodlines - seriously Kelly is a petri dish for all sorts of wacky magic, just like his older sister - and is the grandson of both Catherine Schade, a Hexenbiest infamous in Europe if not elsewhere too, and Kelly Burkhardt, the Grimm Who Defied Death.

And what about Adalind? Adalind who simply has to be aware of her own reputation because you can't be a kickass lawyer and, freshly robbed of your powers, choose to throw your lot in with volatile bluebloods as a strategic way of regaining your livelihood, without having an iron-grip on how you present yourself before the masses. Adalind, the Hexenbiest who outlived three Royals: a prince with a reputation for ruthlessness and getting results, the actual Crown Prince himself, and the reigning King. Adalind, who has a begrudging relationship with the recently crowned King Viktor and who's first baby daddy is Sean Renard, the Portland Royal. Adalind who, in the span of a few days, gained the affection of a high-ranking asset to the Resistance, The Martin Meisner. Adalind, the Hexenbiest who bore not one but Two miracle babies (I want to say a third too because there's no way her and Nick have presumably 15+ years of marriage, give or take, beneath their belt without at least one more child between them). Adalind, the one-woman law firm with serious pull regarding the outcome of Wesen-related cases, and who has represented more than her fair share of Wesen before a trigger-happy, newly-established and justifiably paranoid Council. Adalind, the Hexenbiest that bagged a Grimm and makes it common knowledge that if you come after her family, she won't just sit pretty. Nick is the one who takes heads, who brandishes a gun and an axe, Nick is executioner, hunter, and he's also the knight protecting the castle gates but Adalind is the last defense(before the kids get to have their fun, anyway), Adalind is wife and mother (would've been Queen in another life and will be Queen Mother when Diana takes her rightful place on the throne) but Adalind is also the Witch in this little fairytale metaphor that is their entire lives, and witches won't even leave a soul for the afterlife to take.

Genuinely, the tomes of lore and socio-political implications for where our main characters stand on the world stage within Grimm are ridiculous in their potential and I remain endlessly peeved that NBC's coward ass cancelled them when we'd just scratched the surface.

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 3 years

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Scattered AU Masterpost Part 1

This is a collection of all material associated with the Scattered AU (read about the premise here)!

Join the new Discord server here

AU material under the cut (because this is growing super fast already)

Due to post length limit (which is apparently a thing), find Part 2 of this AU here.

A few ideas to get us started:

- Tango and Zedaph spawned relatively close to each other, but they haven't found each other yet and each think they are alone. They keep just barely missing each other in their exploration of the area. Maybe, with the powers of Zed's perfect sense of direction and Tango's laser-sharp perception skills, they'll finally stop walking circles around each other...maybe.

- Xisuma spawned alone, deep underground in a massive, confusing cave system. He desperately wants to figure out what's going on and how to fix it, but a bad run-in with the Warden damaged his helmet, leaving him unable to use admin commands.

- Mumbo spawned the farthest out of anyone, right next to a woodland mansion. He quickly realized that hoping to stumble across another person this far out is a lost cause, so he's trying to create some form of communication using a combination of redstone and Evoker magic. The Evoker isn't very helpful, and it isn't going well.

- Joe and Vintagebeef were the only ones to successfully spawn at spawn. They aren't really sure what's going on, but they've decided to build a small village as a base of operations while they figure it out (and to signal signs of life to anyone who might successfully find their way back)

- Cleo spawned in a village, and is currently hiding out in a house while trying to convince the villagers to trust her. Let's just say they aren't thrilled to have a zombie in their midst (and the iron golem is even less pleased)

- Impulse had the misfortune to spawn in a guardian temple. Between the guardians and the constant threat of drowning, he's been in a death loop since the world started.

- False and Stress spawned right next to each other. They figured out pretty early that something was wrong with regen, and using their combined strengths, they made it to the Nether to get ingredients for healing potions. They are now on a mission to find the others and distribute the potions to whoever needs them.

- Ren actually managed to travel a good distance back to the world center, before getting pretty badly injured. With no regen, and knowing he'll have to start the journey all over if he dies and respawns, he's decided to pull together a small base and take shelter while he waits to be found.

- Scar spawned on an outer End island, with no idea how to get back to the Overworld. He keeps finding strange glitches in his surroundings, and he swears he can hear soft Vex laughter whenever he turns his back...

- Keralis spawned in the Nether, and he is absolutely terrified.

That's all I have for ideas so far. The location of the others (and what happens next) is up to you!

Contributions so far:

- Bdubs spawns in the void, but he just doesn’t die. Maybe it’s spawn protection, maybe it’s the glitches, but he just keeps falling and falling and falling further from the bedrock, unable to do anything to help himself as he descends further into the void

- @fluffy-papaya

- After wandering around aimlessly for days or maybe weeks, Tango finds an automatic farm for... well... he's not sure, exactly. But he does know who built it- it's got Zedaph's mark all over it. So he stays there, fixing broken Redstone, trying to figure out what it does. And when Zedaph returns to collect melons (so that's what this thing is for), he finds Tango waiting for him.

- @rayveewrites

- Etho spawns in a underwater cave, but there is air in it and for some reason a shipwreck so he can get some wood and tools. But he has to get out to contact anyone because the reception in caves don't happen to be the best, little does he know just outside the cave is the monument where Impulse is, they're so close yet so far from one another

- anonymous

- Maybe Etho ended up spawning at the very top of a mountain, he could see far from up there and has a general idea of where he is, but no idea how to get down as all around him is powderd snow hiding ravines, and cliffs. . . And a few goats that Etho has narowly avoided getting headbutted by. (Etho went to the mountain after escaping the cave)

- @ciaravixen

- Welsknight spawned in the Nether

- (paraphrased) Ren fell down a ravine in the mountains on his journey to the world center, and decided to make a small cabin base rather than try to carry on injured. Doc spawned in those same mountains, and may find him eventually.

- anonymous

- Grian spawns on the tallest peak of the highest mountain. Surrounded by thick fog and almost ever-falling snow, with crevasses and cliffs that drops thousands of blocks to the ground around every corner. No trees, no life, and barely enough air to breath. It's so cold. A thin red sweater isn't nearly enough to keep him warm.... he's likely caught in a death loop for quite awhile as he refreeze over, and over, and over again. And when he does manage to climb down, an ice pillager lies in wait...

- @therainofsweetmelody

- Scar’s End spawn is on a single island- he can see other islands around him, but they’re just out of jump reach- he tried, and fell and died, and respawned back onto his little island with the whispering voices around him a tad louder, and the islands just a bit farther away. He stops trying to jump to them eventually, out of fear they’ll vanish and he won’t have anything to focus on besides the whisper of ice cold hands and wings on his skin

- anonymous

- Oh! Maybe since Xisuma’s admin helmet is broken and he’s unable to run any world commands, that means mob hermits like Cleo, Doc, and Jevin aren’t quite the same. Maybe Cleo locked herself in that house for the villagers protection as much as her own. Maybe Doc eventually joins a lone creeper pack. Who knows! -💧

- anonymous

- Zed and Tango spawned in the same jungle biome, explaining the melon farm and why they could be literally three blocks from each other and still not be aware of each other’s existence. -🟣

- The first thing Scar does once he first spawns in (besides from almost having a panic attack) is take a jump into the void. This of course does nothing. He checks out the rest of the end islands around him, and finds a rather large end city just in render distance. There should be treasure or something that could help him survive, right? -🟣

- Keralis was lucky enough to spawn in a warped forest biome and next to a basalt delta, so he’s got wood and stone. It takes a bit, but he gets full gold armor and finds his way to a nether fortress. He figures with the broken regen that the other hermits will try to go for potions. Maybe he finds Stress and False, maybe not. -🟣

- I apologize if I'm sending too many asks, please feel free to say if so! I'm just already so invested in this idea, and absolutely love where it's all going! Shattered au brainrot go brrrrr - anyways; Cub spawns in a valley within the messa. To one side an abandoned village covers the cliff, and to the other, mines drill deep into the rock. A stream luckily runs through the valley, though it's slowly drying up. He can hear strange sounds in the mines, and feels something in the village watching

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- what if the hermits caught in death loops start gaining scars and marks from all their deaths? like impulse had permanent scars from the guardians and grian’s hands are permanently blue from freezing to death all the time

- anonymous

- X finds some axoloyls in a lush cave and falls in love. He gets some wood from said cave and gets some buckets so he can keep them -🟣

- Cleo gets stuck in a death loop with the iron golem, who is blind to her not attacking the villagers. One of the smarter villagers realizes she’s not fighting back, and calls the golem off. -🟣

- (paraphrased) After the iron golem is called off, Stress and False find Cleo badly hurt in the village house. They make sure she's comfortable and safe before going to the Nether to get potions, where they find a battered Keralis and carry him back. They turn the house into a little hospital while they brew potions and take care of Cleo and Keralis until they're strong enough to move on.

- anonymous

- Stress and False have set up a Nether Portal near a Nether Fortress, for easy escape to the relative safety of the Overworld. Keralis has never been more relieved in his life than when he found that portal.

- @/rayveewrites

- Doc spawned a thousand blocks away from ren, not knowing hos friend was there he happened to go in that direction. He managed to get materials, tools and food for himself before he sees rens little hut

- anonymous

- Jevin was one of the luckier hermits, when it came to where he spawned. He woke up in the shallow green waters of a floral cave, illuminated by glowing rocks and berries. He wasn't... quite alone. Although no other hermits could be seen, he quickly found a small family of axolotl living in the closed-off cave. They became his companions as he tried to assess his situation, and served as comfort when he realised his communicator was almost useless. Being slime, the environment was very welcoming

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- Xb spawns in the middle of a desert, with not even a village in sight. While he's used to being in distant lands with limited resources, he's very much not used to it on the Hermitcraft server with limited contact to the others. As the nights go by and the sands grow more hostile thanks to never-burning husks, he grows more and more lonely.

-@/basaltdragon

- At first, Doc is elated when he spawns on a mountain surrounded by goats. That is, until he discovers that none of his fellow hermits are there with him. After being headbutted down the mountain into the snowy tundra below and left on precariously low health, he hunkers down in a nearby igloo. But it's not exactly easy in a food-scarce biome when his only contacts are two villagers and the horde of strays that gather outside each night...

-@crows-in-space

- in one sense of the word, scar is safe. There's enough chorus fruit on the island to keep him alive, and despite his concerns the enderman don't even bat an eye at him. Theoretically, he could survive for longer than many of the others. But the whispers keep nagging at him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Sure, he could survive, but how long could he stay on this deathly quiet piece of land before someone would find him? He can see the faint outline of an End City on one of the fading islands, and every passing moment it haunts him. If he could just give in for a moment, let the powers of the vex harness his body for just a few seconds, maybe he could make it over and gather some gear- maybe even an elytra- and then he'd be set. But fear and logic talk him out of it. He's made deals with the vex before, and that quick trip across the islands could put him in a much more dangerous position than only being stranded...

- @/crows-in-space

- What if after scar gives up, he finds his vex mask lying on the floor with a tag saying ‘do it, it’ll help you get across’ (shade's note: Scar does it)

- anonymous

- For the Scattered AU: Scar gets an elytra, and after much internal struggling he decides to take a chance and leap into the darkness for hope of finding another island. During his terrifying glide he hears a distant scream from the void that is so familiar, but he can't quite place it, and he's in no hurry to risk flying any lower to check it out. - M

- @petrichormeraki

- Iskall and doc's robotic eye glitch out so they don't have any depth vision, so no mater where they spawn, they Are bound to die a few times from missinterprating how far away an Arrow or trident is, and how fast something is coming at them.

- @/ciaravixen

- I initially thought of this for Ren, but since there was already an idea for him, it could probably work for Iskall instead; He spawns in the middle of a scorching desert. Dunes of sand for as far as the eye can see, with barely a cactus or dead Bush in between. No water, no life - only the ever-present heat of the sweltering sun, and the large skeletons everywhere. He manages to find an abandoned temple after days of dragging himself through the sand, and spies a desert village on the horizon

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- Scattered AU! The way the "not killing Bdubs in his own spawn in the void" glitches work is similar to the forgiving void mod works where when you hit the bottom of the void you are teleported to the top instead of taking damage, but since Bdubs can't see anything in the void he doesn't know this (beyond a constant falling) feeling until he manages to "fall forward" enough to find some end islands, he finds scar this way but is so excited to see him he died from fall damage right in front of him

- @theclockworkowl

- (Scattered AU) Piggybacking off the death loop scars ask, when/if Bdubs is rescued from the void, he's in ROUGH shape. His external limbs are blackened and freezing with frostbite from the void (voidbite?), and his bones are permanently weakened from his form being subjected to the cold abyss for so long. Bdubs needs to relearn gravity after falling for so long, and doesn't use elytra anymore. The solid ground under his feet is something he'll never sacrifice for convenience ever again. - M

- @/petrichomeraki

- Wels spawned in a giant crimson forest in the nether. Towering mushroom trees, thick red vines, with piglins and hoglins he constantly has to run away from. But he finds something.... interesting as he's exploring. A house has been built into a wall, a mixture of nether and overworld blocks. Stepping inside, someone clearly lives there - someone who's not a piglin. Imagine his surprise (and relief) when a certain familair knight walks through the door. "Helsknight?"

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- xB wakes up in a dripstone cavern. It's damp and cold and the spikes are very tall, forming a sort of natural cage around him. At the very least, zombies and mobs can't get through, but the longer he stays there, the weirder the sounds get. There... wasn't a new mob for the dripstone caves, right? Right? (i'm trying VERY hard not to do new hermit OR crossover headcanons for scattered au. i swear) ~@betweenlands

- Scattered AU! Everyone Etho dies He spawns in a new place, first it was the underwater cave, then it was the top of a mountain, but it wasn't until he spawned inside an ocean monument and saw impulse trying to escape just as he was dying he realise the importance of the pattern, He was cycling though each of the other hermits spawn locations, which made all the wierd almost hermit made wierdnes make sense, the underwater one was his but the mountain was Grian's spawn spot,

- @/theclockworkowl

- Can the hermits see death messages? (They can) I'm imagining the potential angst of that, where normal world messages (achievements, commands, deaths) go through just fine but the others can't chat. The helplessness of watching their friends' names endlessly filling the chat and having no idea where they are, having no clue how to help, not even being able to offer comfort.

- @/basaltdragon

- Someone had mentioned xisuma also ending up in a floral cavern with axolotl, right? What if this was the same cave Jevin found himself stuck in? After days and days of clawing at stone, xisuma finally breaks into a cavern filled with faint light. After discovering the friendly acolotls, he notices a strange blue mass floating in the water.... and is almost startled to death when he sees the skull faintly showing through the slime, and the familiar wobbly voice coming from it. "Xisuma?"

- Doc and Grian (and later on, ren) spawned on the same mountain. Grian, of course, at the very top: stuck in the endless snowpeak, towering high above the clouds. Doc, meanwhile, ended up at the base, surrounded by snow and goats and giant taiga trees as far as the eye could see. Once Ren got stuck in the ravine, he often heard a familiar scream before a sickening splat every now and again, as the ravine lies almost completely below the highest peak. He's afraid to check his communicator.

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- grian’s practically given up since there’s not much for him to do. there’s no food and his hands are too frozen to mine. a little fox stays by his side at least. he’s about to freeze again and his health is low and he hears crumching footsteps approaching. he assumes its the iceologer coming for him but instead he hears “grian?” and he can make out blurry figures before he passes out and wakes up wrapped up in a blanket infromt of a fire. (whoevers managed to find and rescue him is up to you :D) (Shade's notes: the person who found him was Doc, and he took him back to Ren's cabin to warm up)

- anonymous

- Scar isn't the only one changed by the time he reaches spawn. Impulse drags himself up onto land finally, breathing heavily, and there's something different about him. Sharper teeth. The shadow he casts more inconsistent. Always faintly smells like saltwater. And his eyes glow faintly, a pale washed-out non-color like light at the bottom of the ocean. Something suggesting nonhuman geometry. Something sleeping that had to reawaken to escape. ~@betweenlands

- Eventually, Etho spawns in a jungle. By a complete stroke of luck, he sees the smoke of a campfire. Tango and Zedaph are happy to see someone- anyone- else. Especially when it turns out Etho somehow managed to get the coordinates of a certain Ocean Temple. Sure, it's far, but they can make it. After all, there's an 'I' in team ZIT, and they aren't leaving him behind.

- @/rayveewrites

- (summary of a couple different writing peices) After escaping the Guardian Temple, Impulse set out to find any other Hermit he could. He has gained some unnerving qualities and abilities that he doesn't really understand, but he's trying not to think about that right now. After defeating several mobs he should not have been able to defeat with his level of progress, he now possesses one Totem of Undying. He met up with Zedaph, Tango, and Etho on their way to find him. They are now hosting him at their campsite and are glad he is safe, but Etho is unnerved and suspicious of his more unsettling attributes.

- I had sent this idea right after the inbox closed, rip. But anyways - what if mumbo ended up befriending the evokers and pilligers in the woodland mansion? Of course, it wouldnt be like that at first- the constant death to the axes and swords and magic, the growls and yelling and cursed glares. But he always came back to work on the redstone and evoker magic in a desperate attempt to contact the others. Eventually, the evoker stops sending their vex, and the pilligers stop swinging their weapons

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- (Scattered AU) After Scar gives in to the Vex. Bdubs is barely conscious to begin with; dying to the void so many times really took it out of him in every way possible. But when he is awake, what he sees makes him scared. Scar with faded, cold eyes. Scar with transparent wings, gone in a blink. Scar being able to do things he shouldn't. Scar says it's to get them out of there, but every day he gets a little paler, a little colder, and Bdubs grows more worried. - M

- @/petrichomeraki

- Perhaps xb and Iskall are on opposite ends of the same desert? On one side, high sand dunes covering miles, with a single desert temple and isolated desert village hidden amongst the cliffs and hills. On the other, the deep flatt valley next to a Mesa mountain, flat nothingness stretching far past the horizon. It would still take quite a long time for them to find each other, but at least there's a change they could meet... and, perhaps, over that mountain, cub could be somewhere in the mesa

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- Iskall and Xb eventually find each other in the desert. Sunburned, dehydrated, and sand-blasted, they hug when they first meet despite not knowing each other well. And they try their best not to die, because what are the chances they'll ever find each other again? Two heads are better than one for finding their way to the rest of the hermits.

-@/basaltdragon

- Its probably a week or so of falling before bdubs managed to move enough to finally see the end islands just barely rendering in the distance. As someone had mentioned, perhaps he became so hopeful that he missed his mark, hitting the ground with a sickening splat just blocks beside scar. It took bdubs almost another week to get forward enough to see the islands again. This time, he landed right on scar... sending the vex back to his spawn several islands away, and leaving bdubs alone for days

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- While Bdubs and Scar are more than happy to have found each other again, their moments together are tense and filled with gaps of uncomfortable silence. There's an unspoken agreement hanging over them: Scar doesn't question Bdubs' frozen and frail state, and Bdubs pretends not to notice how Scar's skin has gotten pale and ghost-like, or how he glances behind him often, like he's being followed by a shadow only he can see. Though of course, Bdubs does notice. The whole server does. Grian wakes up in a cold sweat from a dream of Scar's ruthless attempts to destroy the mycelium resistance. Cub feels his own ties to the vex magic acting up once again, now worrying more than ever what Scar may have encountered in this broken world. Even Mumbo's evoker friend begins acting different, though Mumbo can't seem to determine whether it's out of excitement or fear...

-@/crows-in-space

- Scattered AU After the Wels meeting Hels Headcanon I imagine maybe Hels offers a deal to insure his safety on the Hermitcraft Server in exchange for Wels safety in the Nether. Wels very reluctantly agrees adding to the deal that Hels won’t hurt anyone. To bad he didn’t notice his Evil counterpart cross his fingers while shaking on it.

- anonymous

- Scattered AU: TFC spawns on the main end island, dragon and all. With out proper preparation he’s been stuck in a death loop since the world’s start. Sometimes, right before he dies, he wishes that the janky respon would de-age his body; he’s not the agile young man who could take down the dragon solo anymore.

- @liagrace-b

- Scattered!Grian can’t fly. His normal down-featherly wings look like every feather has been plucked off, leaving the very sensitive skin open to the elements. But the world’s code itself has altered the physics of the wings themselfs. Grian can feel how much heavier the wing structure sits on his back, meaning that they couldn’t let him glide even if fully feathered. Poor Grian hasn’t survived the freezing cold long enough to know if his feathers would grow back with enough time.

- anonymous

- EX somehow gets into the scattered mix. Spawning in the Deep Dark, the exiled admin is terrified, and will stop at nothing to find his brother. 🌙

- (Scattered AU) Scar and Bdubs, after months(?) of travel, make it to the Ender Dragon's island. Bdubs is scared for both of their lives; he is in no condition to fight, he can't even STAND, and he's so, so afraid to die and be condemned to falling forever in the void once again. Scar says nothing, only gently setting his friend down behind an obsidian pillar before his skin goes completely translucent, his eyes clouding white. (Paraphrased: Scar defeats the dragon, him and Bdubs meet up with TFC)

- @/petrichormeraki

- the plugins do not work, so singleplayer sleep is out. Beds do reset spawn point, so the Hermits who spawned in a place where they can get them would do well to make several and use them as checkpoints along their journey (and hope that they don't get broken, especially for those who had to escape death loops....)

- (my answer to some questions)

- Those trapped in death loops change, adapting until they aren't harmed anymore or till they escape. After all, what are players if not adaptable?

- @permafrost782

- Xisuma blames his broken helmet for being unable to admin, as some sort of comfort. But there is no comfort there. The truth is, not even Joe, Tango, Cub, or Hypno can access the chat, can even begin to run commands to fix what has gone wrong. If they could, they would have teleported everyone to 0,0 and reset the worldspawn. Those partnered with any of the admins feel a certain kind of hopelessness. Those without feel a different kind of hopeless.

- @/basaltdragon

- To add to the scattered AU: Though i had seen someone explain the void connecting to the end so Bdubs gets out of that fall, i had the thought of this; What if eventually the void loops around with the overworld's sky, so he's basically in a continuous loop if falling to his death and respawning in the void until he finally is lucky enough in his falls to get over water and live. After that he just has to stay alive otherwise he returns to the void..

-@aetosofvalla

- Somewhere, in the back of Scar’s vex-addled mind, there’s the worry of Jellie. Where is she? Is she with another hermit? Did she spawn in with another village again and will he have to find her again? -🟣

- (Scattered AU) Cub and Scar have been linked by the Vex ever since their deal. One day, Cub's iron armor burns against his skin all at once, and through the searing pain is a horrifying realization that Scar has given in. - M

-@/petrichormeraki

- After a while Cub gets the resources to build a nether portal, but then he finds his portal has connected with someone else's. He finds himself lost again, without access to the farms he's built or the resources he's gathered, but at least he knows a friend is close.

- anonymous

- The End duo come across another end city. There’s a boat at the far end. Scar flies up on delicate vex wings to get the spare elytra and other loot. They’ve been walking for far too long. He floats down (as if he had the slow-falling effect. There’s only health in the brewing stand. Bdubs’ worry for Scar increases) with an extra set of trousers, boots, an elytra, the potions and a pic. Scar offers the elytra to Bdubs. He refuses. It’ll take longer to walk, but he never wants to fall again🟣

- Mumbo gets caught up in redstone work and doesn't bother trying to find anyone else. So when another hermit finally finds him, he has to stop his evoker friend from attacking. Whether or not he's successful is another thing.

- Anonymous

- (Scattered AU) Consider. When Doc finds Grian on the mountain peak while exploring the terrain, a message sends through everyone's communicators. <Grian was blown up by a Creeper>. Doc doesn't get a death message that time, despite both of them suffering the consequences of a surprised Doc in a server where mob-oriented hermits are more volatile than they should be. Doc doesn't go looking for other hermits again after that, and Grian is shocked into numbness at the dawning realization that his monster friends might be so much worse off than he thought. - M

- @/petrichormeraki

A summary of where things stand so far

- scattered au pog!!! hypno is in a seemingly endless flowery field. it was nice at first, but there's no trees, no food, and hardly any water. the sun is so hot. flowers aren't filling. hypno thought he liked being alone.

- Anonymous

- Mumbo doesn’t succumb to the magic of the mansion like perhaps Cub and Scar have, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t entirely unaffected- his skin becomes a little more washed out, instincts a little more violent- he certainly can’t go into villages anymore, otherwise the iron golem will smash him to bits

- @/fluffy-papaya

- With Scar using Vex magic, the Vex turn their attention to Cub, trying to tempt him at every turn. More then once he's found his mask in one of his chests, staring up at him, or awoken in a cold sweat from a dream full of vex. So far, he's resisted the temptation. Wether that lasts is another question entirely.

-@/bat-connoisseur

- Maybe eventualy hypno realises Even flowers would need water to grow, or that the bees must have a bee hive somewhere around here, and the bee hive is always connected to a tree(I think thats the case in Minecraft). So he tries to find where the buzzing comes from and follow the bees around.

- @/ciaravixen

- cleo bases a lot of her identity around being a zombie, right? she probably isnt too happy to be cured. she probably cries all the time it takes her to heal. it had to be done, but that doesnt mean she has to like it. and she doesnt, not one little bit.

- Anonymous

- that ask about Mumbo not bothering to look for anyone got me thinking.... Mumbo getting too caught up in his work with the evokers to look for the others. Mumbo making friends with the illagers. Mumbo knowing that it's completely reasonable that nobody has found him yet, but still getting the creeping feeling that no one is coming for him. Mumbo spending all his time with his new friends because, after all, they're here, and the hermits aren't... All this to say that, when the hermits eventually do find him, he might not be very inclined to leave...

- @/crows-in-space

- At one point, Mumbo's new friends are just...watching him try to do his stuff, observing. Mumbo's getting increasingly frustrated when ne of the evokers watching him breaks off and hands him something. At first he thinks its a totem of undying, its shaped like one, but its strange. Made out of iron, and its eyes are diamonds instead of emeralds. Then it starts to burn his hands and he passes out from the pain. When he wakes, its gone and he moves on, a bit more wary of his 'friends'. Maybe it was a mean joke, or some kinda of strange inhiation for the mansion maybe Except next time he's frustrated, he thows his hands up annoyed and fangs rise out of the ground around him and snap at the air. He cries out, confused, before looking at his hands which almost look like they've been painted with gray paints. it wont come off. He seems mentally the same but now he starts to experiment with his new found abilities. Maybe they can help with his redstone or even find others.

- Anonymous

- after trying a poisonous flower, hypno respawns back in the field. this time, he tries walking in a different direction. maybe this is the way out.

- Anonymous

- The flowers in Hypno’s area are just so perfect... blooming dandelions don’t lose their seeds when he brushes against them, petals that are crushed underfoot quickly regain their shape- and if his mind wasn’t so affected, he would’ve noticed the flower he picked was quickly replaced by another

- @/fluffy-papaya

- The Moobloom has one unique feature: The ability to leave behind flowers in its path... that is, the ability to alter the world around it simply by walking. These flower plains are not particularly large, maybe eight or so chunks across in each direction, but glitched world generation spawned in a herd of mooblooms, and all they've been doing is walking around causing little distortions, one on top of the other. From the inside, where Hypno is standing, the plains go on forever. The air is thick with buttercup pollen that's slowly dulling his sense of space and time. He has to pull it together, somehow. Force the world to recognise that he's walking forwards in a straight line. Or he'll be wandering in circles forever...

- @/draconic-dreams

- another hermit- maybe beef? sees the edge of a deep, fragrant field. on the horizon, not far away, is hypno, walking in circles. he calls but he cannot hear beef. something tells the man not to go into that field- at least, not without a flint and steel. (Shade note: Beef and Joe saved Hypno and are currently sheltering him (unconscious) in their spawn sanctuary)

- anonymous

- Maybe if they went through the exit portal and it glitched but good. They don't think about the fact it should send them back to their spawns, Scar feels something at the back of his mind that very much isn't him tell him to change his mind, stay in this place becuase they'll just be trapped if they try to leave, but Bdubs grabs his arm and jumps in before Scar can say anything. For a second, blessed silence, Scar's mind feels clear and normal. then they show up at world spawn and scare theother

- anonymous

(Shade note: people at the spawn haven now include Joe, Beef, Hypno, TFC, Scar, and Bdubs)

- Once Keralis and Cleo are healed up, the village gang starts going to 0,0 to try to meet up with others. On the way, they find a flower forest (potentially the same one Hypno’s in). They find some mooblooms and fall in love (this was def not done bc I want some fluff, nope not at all /s) -🟣

- Mumbo receives a set of robes from his evoker friend. He’s loathe to get rid of his suit, but at the same time... well, all the better to fit in, right? This is a glitch and fluke anyway, and he might as well blend in if the illagers ever turn on him. That’s it. That’s the only reason he tosses the suit jacket into the fireplace, don’t be silly. It has nothing to do with the feeling that he just doesn’t want to leave...

- anonymous

- I’m imagining Shattered Impulse looking like the Fishman from Shape of Water + the teeth of an Angler fish and the ability to unhinge his jaw. Poor guy probably gets mistaken for a glitched mob when someone finds him.

- @/fandomrecycling

- Yes hello it's me again. After the pollen spells breaks for Hypno (and whoever else might have tried to save him beforehand...), he notices he's a little different. he can't always control how he moves, he doesn't like eye contact, and he takes an even bigger interest in his, well, interests than before. Basically Tourettic Hypno go brrr (I am tourettic so feel free to ask me clarification!)

- @/fireflower-dusk

- I don't think Keralis has been mentioned except for being in the nether so I would like to contribute that he spawned in that soul sand and skeleton biome that has almost nothing in it.

- anonymous

- Mumbo, being hundreds of thousands of blocks out from spawn, is the last hermit to be found. Even after the glitch was fixed, Mumbo was so caught up in his research and new abilities that he no longer felt it mattered. He'd been apart from the hermits for well over a year now; and a long time ago he gave up hope that they'd come back for him. This was, of course, until he woke up one morning to a disturbance outside. When he goes to check the source of the racket, he's left frozen in place at the sight of Iskall on his mansion's doorstep. And at the end of it all, despite Mumbo telling himself that he was better alone, Iskall's hand on his shoulder, reassuring that "Yes, I'm here, yes, I'm real, and no, I'm not leaving, you spoon." Is enough for Mumbo to break, clinging to Iskall as if he'd disappear at any moment, murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over like a broken record. -🧸

- Maybe after Wels and Hels make their deal, and Wels gets some gold gear and a respawn anchor to click, Hels shows him how to create a portal to Hels the place to which from there, they think they can get into the overworld. The only catch being that to get in to Hels the place you need to focus all of you emotions onto pure hatred and anger, but the question is could Wels do it?

- Anonymous

- Hels taunts Wels about how no one came to get him, and plants ideas about how this was done on purpose, about how he's the only one to spawn in the nether for a reason. He tells him the hermits want him gone. And Wels of course becomes angry but he becomes angry at Hels for trying to tell him his friends didn't care about him. He's also angry at himself though, maybe for thinking he hasn't done enough to make his friends want to keep him around. He is never mad at the hermits though, never them

- TFC's concerned. Even if he thinks it's great he found Bdubs and Scar, the latter shouldn't be able to just kill the ender dragon alone. TFC doesn't know much about Scar but the man can barely fly usually, why did he turn into a vex, anyway? vexes don't exist in the end. TFC need to ask, at least to make sure he's ok, but everytime he tries he stops in his track once the cold, icy blue eyes stare back at him. devoid of the usual warmth his green ones have.

- Anonymous

- (Scatter AU) Saw someone mention the other ops on the server and had a thought: Tango is a programmer with a specialty in game programming. He’s probably sitting at the campfire thinking of every single way the game must have been corrupted to cause this many problems. If he could just get into the code, maybe he could fix some of these problems. I’ll bet he’s driving himself a little crazy thinking of everything that could be done to fix the world and not being able to do anything...

- Anonymous

- Cub was lucky, he thinks. Seeing the many death messages in chat, he's torn between gratitude that he's ended up with what almost looks like a normal spawn, and worry for his friends. After gathering enough resources to stay reasonably safe, he knows what he has to do next. So when he encounters Xb, he eventually suggests he takes some resources and a bed he's salvaged from the abandoned village and heads towards 0,0, hoping there'll be someone there. (1/3)But as for him... well, there's an obvious place to head as far as he can see, for someone with a safe enough spawn point and the ability to gather resources. A place where he knows for sure he'll find someone else, someone who needs help. After all, unless this world is even more messed up that it seems, there's only one place where a player would be killed by the Ender dragon, and he knows exactly how to get there. (2/3) (Shade note: Him and xB were not successful in finding the Hermit who the mystery portal belonged to. They must have died in the Nether and returned to their spawn point. XB resists the idea that they split up, but he sees the logic in it and agrees to start the long journey for 0,0.) (pt. 3 was eaten by the inbox)

- Anonymous

- Maybe one of the reasons Cleo doesn't like being a human as much is because she had chronic pain (particularly in her back) when she was alive, and when she gets cured after meeting up with False, Stress, and Keralis, her back pain comes back (along with all the other pains of being alive)

-@/justme123abz

- Whenever Etho spawns, wherever Etho spawns, he takes it upon himself to tell each and every Hermit he can find to head towards 0,0. He's not sure why, but he believes that if they get everyone together, they can figure out how to fix the broken world.If there aren't any Hermits in sight, he'll make a sign out of whatever's avalible before going searching. It's a complete pain to try and build anything coherent out of sand and cactus, but he has to try. He has to get everyone together. It's their best hope. It's their only hope.Even Evil X. Even Hels. Everyone. He doesn't care about past grievances. They need to get through this. And their only option is to do it together. (Shade note: He doesn't stay with Team ZIT for long. He probably dies trying to protect them from something, knowing that it will only result in him finding another Hermit anyway. Even though he himself isn't making any progress toward the origin, he counts it as a victory every time he can guide one of his friends just a little bit closer.)

- Doc Ren and Grian himself thought that him being found and safe would fix everything right? yea no he has horrible fevor, he struggles to retain warmth depsite 2 feet from a fire, he's tired and has a hard time stay awake becuase on the mt he slept alot, he barley eats cuz he cant hold too much down rn. He cant stand being alone or he'll start to panic, ands he's just trying to ignore the new fox fetures he has desperately when he's aware enough to do. Doc and Ren have a hard time ahead of them.

- Anonymous

- Mumbo was trying to make a machine with redstone and evoker magic to contact the hermits right?so what if he did build the machine ad at first his only way to get the magic was to go annoy the evoker hoping he would try to hit him and instead hit the machine to power it. Plan backfired so many times because of the vex killing him before. So when Mumbo becomes apprentice he wants to try power the machine himself but it breaks because he can't control how much magic he uses yet.time to study magic

-@/artsarasp

- Etho dies with the Zit and ends up back in it. Next he ends up in X's spawn, there's no one around but he finds the bloody tunnel X punched himself, and races down it to see in the distance Xisuma and Jevin in a cave.He calls out to them, only to get overwhelmed by zombies that just spawned, He manages to gurgle out 0,0 before he dies again. (He's now determined to be the messenger of meetings, even willing to die on purpose to find them all). After that? Ren's old spawn, now he has to track ren

- anonymous

- I guess hypno’s been... hypnotizd 👉😎👉

- We need more Jevin and xisuma interaction content, be it fluff or angst, how aware is jevin by the time Xisuma gets there? How many axolotls do they take with them on the way to the surface?

- @/ciaravixen

(Shade comment: We need more Jevin and xisuma interaction content, be it fluff or angst, how aware is jevin by the time Xisuma gets there? How many axolotls do they take with them on the way to the surface? )

- Mumbo having to learn how to use the magic, the evoker will probably also try to teach him how to summon the vex, even if Mumbo really wants to just focus on the magic and not the evocation.What if he's able to summon Scar since he gave his name to the vex? just by accident and Mumbo gets so startled by Scar's new appearance that he immediately interrupts the evocation and makes Scar dissappear. Scar reappears where he was before confused cause for a moment he saw Mumbo?did he allucinante??

- @/artsarasp

- Scattered AU! So what if what happened with EX and Hels happened with old hermits to? Like Biffa, Generikb, Jessassin etc etc. Everyone is concerned as it is but then they see a death message from one of them and realize it's even worse then they thought.

- Anonymous

- Once Wels and Helssknight are in Hels the have to sneak around a lot. Hels isn’t as popular there as he had previously boasted, that’s why he had tried to take over the over world. Cue heart to heart talk before a Hels version of another hermit cuts them off. (Can you pick the Hermit I’m kinda stuck here)

- Anonymous

- Iskall must have not even known the direction he was walking from his desert spawn, so its purely by luck he ended up finding the mansion mumbo resides in- his cybernetic eye is fixed almost instantly upon his arrival by mumbo and iskall feels his hope fades as he realises they’re /so/ far from the hermits. I also guess he must be worried about whats happening to his friend right before him, mumbo wouldnt willingly give into the vex and evoker magic right? 1/2 But he isn’t so sure anymore, the days at the mansion are quiet and uncomfortable as Iskall has to be wary of the illagers that walk the halls, mumbo assures him of his safety, but theres no light in his eyes - he doubts the illagers welcomed mumbo at first- The usual banter isn’t there at all, its dead silence as mumbo keeps on working and Iskall can see how paler his skin becomes and the blue scars that litter his body 2/2

- Anonymous

- Etho died and respawned at the true spawn once. Beef was elated to see him and was afraid if he let him go, he would disappear. He didn’t want to lose his friend again. In the end, he does, he was actually with Etho when he dies, and he never lets the feeling go.

- @/harley-the-pancake

- aww poor etho! At least he's okay with this new role as messenger. Now i can just imagen he ends up at Ren's spawn and manages to track the man, nearly dying but staying alive and- thats a house in the distance! He goes over and nearly runs into Doc, who invites him in surprised and they catch each other up, their spawns and Etho's situation. They're overjoyed to hear about the others and Ethos glad to see them realtivly okay. Grian's condition is worrying however, changed and still weak (1) They agree they need to start heading to 0,0 but Ren is nervous about leaving safety, Doc wants them safe, and with Grian still sick and weak from laying in snow for weeks it'll take a bit until he's stable enough to travel (he'll probs have to be carried anyways). Etho stays for a few days at their insistence for rest, he wants to keep going there is more hermits out there he hasn't found, they are insistent that he take time to recover. Then, he lets himself die. Off to the next hermit! (2)

- Anonymous

- This is for the very very beginning, but maybe before False meets up with Cleo, she spawns in a warm ocean biome. Coral structures fill the water around her, and tropical fish dart between them. It would be almost peaceful, were it not for the fact that False was encased in a cage of coral.It’s a gamble every time. She has to try and smash her way out of her colorful prison before the tide rolls in, slow and steady water rising up her body and over her head. The water makes her movements clumsy and arduous as she tries to free herself, racing against time to escape the awful tide. (Pt 2) OH SORRY I HAD AN IDEA (this is from the coral False anon)What if Stress and False both spawn in that biome and they have to try and help each other out before the tide comes in?? Added angst if one of the times one manages to escape but the other doesn’t

- Anonymous

- (scattered au) Every time that a hermit dies the universe and the world file starts to corrupt, the way that things are going if everything doesn't go back to normal soon, then the world will crumble on itself with the hermits inside.

- Anonymous

- Admins log, day: ⬛⬛⬛ I've finally managed to find my way to the drip stone caves, weirdly I think I may have a good connection down here, I'll try to contact the others, if they haven't forgotten about me yet. (Shade note: Far away in the woodland mansion, Mumbo rubs his eyes and marks down another failure on his latest contraption. How long will it be until he can generate a signal? He has no way of knowing that, for a single moment, it worked. He stopped checking his communicator a long time ago, so he doesn't see the single message until much later: <Xisuma> can anyone hear me?)

- At some point Etho cycles round to Doc's spawn. His friend is long gone but there are five creepers in formation watching him. Waiting for something.It takes a moment for him to recall the trick of unfocusing his ears just right, so that their hisses resolve into words. He hasn't had to do it for years, after all. He hasn't run into General Spaz since he left Chocolate Island.“It'ssss been a while, Esssssho” the General says. “Let'sssss make a wager”The General reaches out for a handshake... it seems the glitch finally gave him a pair of arms.(ancient Etho lore go brrrr)

- Anonymous

- Both the snow and the void are cold, and getting stuck in there means getting frostbite a lot is fairly likely, so Grian and Bdubs would be unlikely to get out with all their fingers...

- @/bat-connoisseur

- Based on a little piece of this ask where it was mentioned that Hypno passed out only three steps outside the flower biome, I start to wonder, how long was he wandering in circles without food? Why did he collapse so immediately? Was the biome itself perhaps sustaining him? Keeping him "healthy" (if you could call it that) and alive? COULD he have starved to death if he hadn't been pulled out? Or would he have just kept walking? And walking. And walking...

-@/asexualbert

- An idea focusing on evil xisuma. He ended up spawning on the nether roof, stuck with nothing but mushrooms and bedrock as far as the eye can see. No communication, no water, no way out. He can probably eat the mushrooms, at the very least.... but there may be some bad side effects from it. It's disheartening and lonely up there, dying from starvation over. And over. And over. At one point, etho may have spawned there as well... but of course, he wouldnt last long. Condemned to endless roof...

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- Okay, hear me out: after Hypno’s been out of his illusion for a while, he starts to get headaches. He doesn’t think anything of it, until he wakes up one day with small horns growing and flowers in his hair. In conclusion: Moobloom!Hypno

- @/harley-the-pancake

Art:

- An Impulse

- A Grian

- A Guardian Impulse

- A Void Bdubs by @/sweetest-honeybee

- This Hypno by @/irys-97

- an Iskall and a Grian

- a fox Grian

- A Guardian Impulse

- a suffering Xisuma

- Mumbo and Evoker doodles

Writing:

Up. He needs to go up. He spawned too deep in the world, and though he'd heard of underground spawns there was no way, no way in the world that being so deep under was normal. Every cave he crawled up either came to a dead end or opened into a massive, mob-filled cavern, and somehow he still hadn't found even half a mineshaft. He could spend hours upon hours painfully clawing his way through the stone, but he keeps convincing himself it'll be faster to find a cave that leads to the surface. The pounding heartbeat of a warden stills rings in his ears, an ever-present reminder of his terrible luck. If only he could get some wood. Just a few planks, some torches. Anything. It's almost as if the stone doesn't want him to leave.

- @basaltdragon

- Buried by @arts-and-drafts

- Cleo grits her teeth and pulls a leather cap low over her head and stays on the outskirts of the taiga village, where the less scrupulous people go. She can't stay here long, if an iron golem catches her she's going to end up social spawning a bunch of less sapient friends and wiping out the village. The air is cold and thin out here, close to the mountains. The strays leave her alone. She's not sure how to feel about that. ~@betweenlands

- "A poem, by Impulse" by @/rayveewrites

- Pulse by @/arts-and-drafts

- Unnamed Impulse fic by @bat-connoisseur

- Another Impulse fic by @/betweenlands

- Don't think about it by me (@shadeswift99 )

- A poetic fic by @irys-97

- this short anon piece

- If I lose myself by @/arts-and-drafts

- Mountainside by @/basaltdragon

- Sleepwalk by @/betweenlands

- This Grian fic by @silverechosandsmileymasks

- A Jevin fic by @/basaltdragon

- This Hypno piece by @/fireflower-dusk

- This Iskall anon

- Alternate Impulse fic by @/rayveewrites

- Short Grian fic by @rk9-mew2

- an alternate headcanon for Mumbo

- This Xisuma fic by @/bat-connoisseur

#hcraft #hermitcraftheadcanons #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mod shade #masterpost #scattered au #long post

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