#scraggy after her glow up

[i-have-no-braincells]

no one i know is gonna know what the hell i'm talking about, but i am so full of thoughts right now-

Lockwood & Co. Pokemon AU okay lis- LISTEN TO ME-

Early Galar still developing has a BIG ghost problem... Well, a problem with Ghost type Pokemon, that is. I'm setting this in an era in which big cities like Wyndon, Motostoke, and Hammerlocke are still developing because it seems like an era in which humans might still be wary of Pokemon, especially more "dangerous" types, like Ghost. (Think of how humans in PLA were scared of Pokemon and it was uncommon to befriend and train them.)

Anyways. Who better to look to for during this troubling time? Kids and teens, of course. It's the Poke-Universe, after all. "Agencies" of sorts that specialize in helping people with their Ghost-related problems start popping up because of how widespread this becomes, which of course means Lockwood & Co. pops up too. Lockwood, Lucy, and George form a ragtag group of trainers that perhaps, after solving a few cases, start to question if these Ghost Pokemon are even a "problem" in the first place.

I'm so sane, okay, I know this such a niche au to even consider, but I'm sO FUCKING NORMAL ABOUT THIS BOOK SERIES THAT I OBVIOUSLY HAVE TO COMBINE IT WITH MY SPECIAL INTEREST-

I feel it would be common for agents in this universe to have at least one partner Pokemon by their side, usually Dark types or a Pokemon that can learn a Dark type move. Maybe the fact you have to work alongside Pokemon in this specific field is why a lot of kids are joining, simply because they're not completely set in their fear of some Mons (obviously the Ghosts types here are still highly feared. I also am playing more into the darker aspects of Ghost Pokemon's dex entries, to up the fear factor and make it so that people wouldn't want their houses "haunted". Thus making the existence of these agencies make sense.)

As for the characters, I want to give Lockwood an Umbreon maybe? I'm not really sure why other than maybe because it reminds me of the "death glows" Lockwood sees in the books. I could also see him with a Korkorok because of his sunglasses, or a Mightyena because of how his smile is described as "wolfish" sometimes...... Actually, scratch that, I might give him a Luxray because of it's "x-ray" vision and it can learn Crunch.

I could see Lucy with a Sneasel... I can't think of any other Pokemon and I don't know, I feel like it suits her. I know Skully is actually going to be an Odd Keystone in a jar that's maybe vaguely shaped like a skull (or is actually a skull, do we really have any limitations on what the keystone can be?). Anywho, one of the spirits trapped inside the keystone starts to talk to Lucy of course~

George has a Scraggy and a Blipbug (his Blipbug stays at home). Easy choices for my boy George. Holly has a Purrloin, and Kipps has a Thieval I think.

As for an actual plot for this au? I have not a clue, I think it would follow the general plot that we already have in the books. I know Annie Ward's ghost would be a Froslass at least-

Uh. Anyways. I'm insane and unnormal. I will go melt into a puddle somewhere now.

#pokemon #pokemon au #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood & co book series #lockwood & co pokemon au #robin rants

[icecravingmetroid]

TWICE - Poolside: Getting There From Here CH3

His head was heavy when he awoke after what seemed like days, his sleep was hard and dreamless… Something he was grateful for. It was rest well-earned in his respected view, yet as he sat up on the scraggy bed his mind then wandered back to the blonde human whom he considered more of a companion than others. The real reason behind his curious behavior towards her dared not show itself, but he could feel it slithering around the borders of his psyche despite the brittle barrier of denial he'd placed around himself. Disgruntled, he lifted his stiff body off the bed, and engage in a series of gentle stretches before gathering his ceremonial armor. He sluggishly stepped into the empty hall outside his room, enveloped in a disconcerting silence.

As he made for the corner leading to the elevation lift, a female human in plain gray wears nearly slammed into his middle. She looked flustered as she blinked her eyes up at him, having been distracted by something on her PED, which she nearly dropped.

"Rundas! Oh, I am so sorry!" She blathered waveringly, tucking the device away into her coat pocket hurriedly and blowing her copper red dyed hair out of her face.

"Doesn't matter," He shook his head slowly a nonchalant way, then gestured to her name tag on the garb. “You're Dr. N-Wright?"

"Y-yes, Tabitha N-Wright. Crawford informed you?" N-Wright smiled gently once she contained herself, tapping the tips of her fingers together.

"Yeah, uh, Samus, how is she?" He wasn't going stand around for idle chatter. The M.O realized this right away, and nodded her head in a way that made him uneasy as her eyes broke away to see past him.

"She is stable now, the phazon in her system is somehow aiding in the healing process, she is available to visit, just keep the noise to a minimum," She nodded as he confirmed to abide by her recommendation with a subtle grunt.

"She's awake, but she fades in and out of consciousness… Rundas, what happened to her?" The woman tilted her head.

"She…. Took a hit for me." He almost winced at his words. Why was he lying like this? It wasn't like him. Must've been that damned phygrisian pride again…

N-Wright bit her lower lip, shaking her head and raising her brow. "That, was one Hell of a hit. She's lucky she's alive, we had what appeared to be shards of metal imbedded in some of the muscle tissue near her heart."

She noticed the large alien man wince beneath his defrosted visor. "Don't worry, we removed them, no problem… But, like I said... If you want to go visit, go right ahead, just be sure to minimize the activity, but with her minced genetic make-up she's healing brilliantly.”

"I wouldn't think anything less of Samus Aran." He bowed his head subtly, pulling away from her when she returned the send off in her own way.

::… Recovery Room, CCU …::

Samus' head throbbed, dwindled down from the raging migraine she had hours ago, the meds doing their magic. She was grateful for the pain killers that now constantly fed into her IV drip line. The sound of a hiss indicating someone entered her room reached her ears, she stiffened at the quiet footsteps her acute hearing picked up. Her azure eyes flickered up at the shadow that befell her and her face considerably softened, glad to see it wasn't a nosy and loud doctor.

"….Hi." She mouthed with a muted exhale, wincing when she felt the cuts on her lips threaten to crack open again.

"Hey," He gestured to her with the lank motion of his arm, head bobbing.

His helmet had frosted up once more before he entered the room, only his green eyes glowing down at her through the cloud of chilly air.

"You look better than you feel, I'm sure."

"Who said… I feel bad?" She said in a hushed tone.

"Drugs doin' a good job, huh?" He chuckled, looking behind himself fleetingly before seating his hind-end on a rolling stool, pulling himself up to the bedside with his feet. He sat hunched, elbows on his armored thighs.

She nodded stiffly, twice. "Yes… Are you doing better?" Samus then asked hoarsely.

She sounded wholly parched.

"Better than I've ever been." He answered laxly. "A quick evaluation showed my Phazon production levels have dropped, and are 'normal'; at least that's what they call it."

She smiled even though it hurt. "That's good… I-I think…. I think you should still go get a deeper— exam, Rundas."

"Don't worry about it, I will." He said gruffly, waving her off. He didn't like being fretted over, his ego wouldn't allow it, especially not from her. Not because she was female, but because she was still competition as the "Best Hunter in the Galaxy."

"I know how to care for myself…" He straightened.

"Samus," The phygrisian began. "I didn't think I'd be saying this so soon, but, thanks. You got me out of a jam that, admittedly, I couldn't pull through myself. Now, I owe you one. I didn't think that'd happen."

Samus smiled to herself. She enjoyed the competitive edge he had with her. "Getting… Deep there, a little, Rundas?"

He sounded flustered. "I'm just comin' out with it."

"… I guess I'll get out of your face for now." He stood, nodding at her once.

"I'd like, for you to stay…" She said, almost hopefully. "Rather... you get your... Y-yourself--down to Medical and get a more th-thorough- Look over."

"I'll go down later…. Right now I feel fine, besides being a little hungry. I came straight here… Which do you want more? Me to stay or go? I mean I'll stay, you don't have to beg." He said with a smug tone.

She tried to laugh only for it to come out as a series of quiet coughs. Her face contorted painfully, having hurt her shoulder.

She shook her head, swallowing, her voice retained it's croaking hiss. "Rundas, I just worry. You… You were possessed.... Since… When do I- Need to beg? You don't want… To leave..."

"You're welcome to think that." He retorted, dry humor in his voice.

"We'll see…" She whispered, her eyes suddenly very tired.

Rundas glanced over his shoulder, spotting a particular nurse staring into the room from across the CCU and into the wide observatory windows. She was only being watchful of her patient. He recalled N-Wright's words and chose to stick to them. He turned back to Samus, leaning down to hover over her face. She flicked her eyes up at him curiously and raised a dark blonde brow.

"Get some rest. We're about to get in trouble, you shouldn't be interacting too much." He said, hushed.

"Thanks… For the concern." Samus smiled up at him, her strong gaze tracking him while he stood and traversed the room to the door just as the nurse entered her vision, clearly miffed that she was so active. Despite it all, Samus felt fine.

"Rest easy, Samus." He bowed in his species formal departure, setting off the sensor to the door and stepping out as it opened. He remained purposefully oblivious to the nurse's presence at the door, nearly running her over before finishing the act by excusing himself.

Aran could only watch on with a mental grin, trying her best to hide anything at the surface when the nurse approached to scold her and check on her.

#Metroid Prime #Metroid Prime 3: Corruption #Rundas #Samus

[dramaphan]

a gift💛

#scraggy after her glow up #submission

[punz4lyfe]

Wasted Plotential: Ash’s Krookodile

Let’s talk about a certain beloved and goated CHAD in the Pokemon Anime.

Sooo, yeah, Ash’s Krookodile.... I fucking simp for this dude, guys. Not only is the Krookodile species one of the coolest Pokemon designs imo, but Ash’s Krookodile was just fucking awesome in the anime. He had a personality, a pretty nice moveset, his own minor goals, a passion for battling, super cool sunglasses to help him stick out from others, a good connection with Ash, and a superb battling fight. Seriously, after getting caught by Ash, he literally only lost one fight under his care and that was before he fully evolved.

Basically, this guy’s the total package! .....But I honestly feel a little move could’ve been done with him.

I mean, when you compare him to Ash’s other aces, both before and after Best Wishes, he doesn’t really stick out that much. He doesn’t go through any type of struggle under Ash’s care nor did he have a personal rival. Yeah, the reason why he followed Ash for almost half the region before getting capture was because he saw Pikachu as his rival, but that just disappeared once Pikachu bodied him.

For this blog, I came up with a scenario that I would incorporate in the Best Wishes in order to give just a little more depth to Krookodile.

Krookodile, his glasses, and Trip

For this scenario, I would have Krookodile be more involved with Ash’s rivalry with Trip, kinda making him Ash’s main mon to end their conflict instead of Pikachu. Firstly, while Trip would still make an appearance in the first episode, it would mostly just relegate down for a few seconds as Pikachu never got struck by Zekrom. Because of that, Ash doesn’t have a need to stick around at Juniper’s Lab for much long, so once he gets a glimpse of the Unova Starters and learns about the Unova League from Professor Juniper, he says his goodbyes to Oak and Delia before rushing out the lab with Pikachu, excited to see what Unova could offer. On his way out, he swiftly passes by Trip, who’s just now entering the lab. While Ash doesn’t notice him, Trip briefly stares towards Ash’s direction with a slightly surprised expression before shrugging it off and continuing his way in.

From then on out, Best Wishes more or less continues normally, with Sandile beginning to follow Ash on episode 3 not out of to find a way to battle Pikachu, but out of respect and curiosity for Ash after he helped him and his pack a bunch of Pokemon.

It’s when the events of episode 10 come to play is when certain plotpoints start to change. At the beginning of the episode, we see Sandile having to have encountered Trip, battling his Servine and revealing Snivy to have been his starter. Despite the type advantage, Sandile manages to pull a decent fight which somewhat impresses Trip until a well-aimed Cut attack manages to knock Sandile’s sunglasses right off his snout, sending him into his panic mode. Disappointed at the side, Trip recalls Servine, puts away the Pokeball he planned to catch Sandile with, and walks away, insisting that Sandile’s reliance on his glasses makes too pathetic of a Pokemon to catch. Sandile overhears this just as he picks back up his glasses, making him a little depressed over Trip’s words.

Later, Sandile spots Ash, Iris, and Cilan making their way towards Luxuria Town and uses Dig to follow them. He doesn’t appear again until we much later during Ash’s 3-on-3 battle against Trip, where he witnesses Trip taking out Ash’s Snivy with Servine. This motivates Sandile to achieve his revenge, so just as Ash is about to send Pikachu out as his last Pokemon, Sandile suddenly runs to battle instead, much to Ash and Iris’ shock and Trip’s surprise, with Sandile’s glasses being a dead giveaway to them. Seeing Sandile’s determination, Don George allows Sandile to fight despite Ash and Iris’ protests that Sandile isn’t technically Ash’s Pokemon. However, seeing Sandile’s intense glare towards Servine, Ash immediately understands Sandile’s ambitions, so he allows it himself. Thanks to Ash’s direction, Sandile is able to pull off a much better fight against Servine up until his glasses get knocked off once again. This causes Ash and his friends to discover Sandile’s reliance over his glasses just as Servine finishes the fight with Leaf Tornado, knocking him out and making Trip’s first victory a little less contrived and a little less bullshit as it was originally.

With Sandile knocked off, Trip’s declared the winner and he makes his leave. Meanwhile, Ash and his friends comfort Sandile over his loss with Pikachu retrieving his sunglasses for him, cementing their new friendship. After the usual Ash-Mon talk of getting stronger together (a per anime tradition, really) Ash takes out a Pokeball and Sandile happily puts himself into it, officially making him Ash’s Pokemon.

From then on out, Sandile does what he can to be a perfect Pokemon for Ash and a reliable teammate. He happily converses with others, helps Ash catch other Pokemon like Roggenrola, cheers for Tepig when he battles Shamus, and overall just be more involved in Ash’s journey through Unova.

As the adventure goes, he soon evolves into a Krokorok to help Ash win against Elesa and her annoying-ass Emolga (because I’m sure we would ALL do something to make that episode letter) and evolves early into Krookodile during his and Ash’s training with Brycen and Beartic. After their training, Krookodile wins, but mostly out of luck that Krookodile’s sunglasses didn’t fall off, like it did during Ash’s battles against Clay and Skyla.

And here’s when things get interesting.

Even after reaching his final evolutionary stage, Krookodile STILL gets nervous whenever he losses his sunglasses, no matter what Ash, his Pokemon, Iris, and Cilan try to do to help him out with that issue. Just as everyone tries to come up with a new strategy to help out Krookodile, some antics by Axew and Scraggy causes the gang to get attacked by a group of Ferrothorn, forcing them to split up and get lost in a treacherous valley. As the plot progresses, everyone manages to get back together except for Ash and Krookodile as a result of the latter losing his glasses from the attack and the former’s determination to find those accessories. When they eventually do find Krooky’s sunglasses, that is when they confronted once again by the angry Ferrothorn. Knowing Krookodile is too nervous to fight, Ash has him take cover behind some boulders while Ash tries to distract the Ferrothorn away so that Krookodile can get his glasses back.

Things don’t go as planned and Krookodile ends up getting chased as well when some of the Ferrothorn find him. Because Ash is, well, Ash, he quickly takes many of the attacks the Ferrothorn have aimed for Krookodile. Seeing Ash’s life in danger, Krookodile regains his confidence, steps in between his trainer and attackers, and, remembering his training and battle against Brycen’s Beartic, fends off the Ferrothorn with Stone Edge and learns Aerial Ace in time to completely ward them off. With the Ferrothorn fleeing away, Ash manages to get the sunglasses back and his friends and other Pokemon regroup with them, having to have heard all the commotion from their battle. Everyone is caught off-guard by Krookodile’s confident stance without his glasses, and while he continues to keep them in order to retain his individuality, he full-on proves his development much later down the series during the Vertress Conference in Ash’s final battle against Trip.

Like in the original, it delves down into a one-on-one, with Ash using Krookodile and Trip using his fully evolved Serperior. It’s a well-fought battle, with both sides fighting to their fullest. Up at the climax of the battle, a Dragon Tail from Serperior manages to knock off Krookodile’s sunglasses. Trip smiles. His opponent’s achilles heel has been struck. Victory is more than ensured. One final Frenzy Plant should end this quick, might as well end this quickly after all. But once the thorny vines struck down towards the downed reptile, Krookodile is up to his feet. He has caught two of the vines and is using them to hold up the others. He then pushes the vines off of him, cancelling the attack and forcing Serperior to recharge. He shows no signs of distress. In fact, he’s glowing red. As the announcer points out, Krookodile has learned a new move. Outrage, replacing his Dragon Claw move.

The fight is then concluded by Krookodile running towards the defenseless Serperior to beat them senselessly with Outrage. Serperior tries to fight back with Energy Balls and Dragon Tails, but Krookodile’s relentless spirit helps him keep going to eventually taking down Serperior, winning his beloved trainer the battle and equaling the score with his longtime rival. He and Ash have now earned Trip’s respect, ending their relationship on good terms, Ash retrieves his sunglasses for him, and a huge hug further emphasizes their developed bond as Pikachu, Iris, Axew, Cilan, Ash’s other rivals, and the entire stadium cheers them on, wrapping up Krookodile’s arc.

So yeah, that’s my own little Krookodile arc for ya. Hope y’all liked it!

#pokemon #best wishes #anipoke #pokeani #ash ketchum #krookodile #krokorok #sandile #wasted plotential

[cham-p-on]

Shadows & Scarlet (2/2)

Part : [1] 2

Pairing/s: AcrixBridget {Fairytale Enchantress/Timeless Fairytales}

Genre/AU: AU!Angel-Chosen-Amnesia (by Rakel/Emarynn), Romance, Drama/Hurt, Fluff/Comfort

Bridget was about to cross the borders of Farset when a gleam in the dark caught her eye, followed by the cold gust of wind that caused her teeth to chatter. She pulled on her mount’s reins, throwing her hood back as she slid off the saddle.

“Show yourself!”

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she carefully observed her dark surroundings, her red cloak billowing against the wind. Her hands reached down where she strapped a dagger to her side. From the bushes, she noticed a pair of red eyes looking at her.

“Do wolves even have red eyes?” Bridget muttered when a menacing growl could be heard from the shadows.

When Bridget slowly moved towards the figure, her gelding threw its head back and snorted loudly, exhaling white puffs from its nostrils. She stood her ground, her hands tightening around the dagger’s hilt as she pulled it halfway from its scabbard.

“Go away!” the figure released a low growl, pain and distress evident in his voice.

Acri tried his best to remain hidden in the shadows, desperately covering a bleeding wound with the palm of his hand. He tried to summon his magic but agonizing pain took over his body. The rider drew closer to his hiding place when he finally surrendered from his injuries and fatigue. Everything went black and he fell to the ground.

Bridget sighed in relief, uttering a short prayer to the skies when she saw the man’s chest rise and fall in a steady pattern.

If I don’t start riding soon, my mission will be delayed. The Red Rider watched her charger as it impatiently trudged its hoof against the ground. She looked back at the unconscious man, her eyebrows furrowing with concern. But I can’t just leave him like this!

“Is there anything wrong with my face?” Acri asked as he placed the empty bowl back into the tray. The entire time he was eating, he noticed the young woman staring at him intently.

“You mean, besides the obvious?” Bridget asked, crossing her arms “Well, for starters, you’ve got huge red eyes” She tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair spilling down her shoulders “You also have large ears” She pouted at him, slowly shrugging her shoulders “And you’ve got big teeth”

“Do you normally point out people’s flaws when you first meet them?” Acri grimaced, the thought of verbalizing his observations about her height not far from his mind.

If only she has other shortcomings that I could point out (other than her childishly small height), then maybe I would have had a better response. But even then, Acri’s not entirely sure if bringing up her vertically-challenged measurement would be the best course of action for his safety.

“Not really! I usually wait for people to introduce themselves!” A few minutes of silence passed between them before the young woman crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly “So are you going to tell me your name or should I just call you Wolf?” Bridget replied, unaffected by Acri’s irritated reaction to his moniker “It’s a fitting name, considering you growled and resembled one when I first saw you!”

“Didn’t your mother tell you to run to run when you see the first signs of danger -”

“Bridget”

“Fine, then!” Acri sighed as he leaned closer to her, one of his eyebrows rising when he asked her a question “If I looked like a wolf when you first met me, why didn’t you run for safety?” He let out a wolfish grin, his voice turning into a low growl “If I happened to be a wolf, I would have easily eaten you in once piece”

“I’m confident that my horse would sooner trample you than see me harmed”

“You traitorous ingrate,” Suzu snarled at Angelique when a spell hit her in the chest, causing her to be knocked a few feet from where she previously stood.

Before she could find the strength to stand up, Acri fired another spell in her direction, red light shooting forth from his fingertips. When the spell hit the sorceress in the back, she collapsed on her chest and lost consciousness.

“Go!” Acri yelled at the war enchantress, prompting her to pick up her skirts and head towards the room the portal enchanter was being kept imprisoned.

When the alarms started blaring, Acri shook his head and let out a small groan, his arms rising in exasperation. If I live, I will pommel that stupid portal magician in the face!

A dozen of dark mages appeared from the hallway, shock written all over their faces when they saw the war mage standing in front of the sorceress’s unconscious figure. In the meantime… Acri turned to face them, his magic raising a wall of shadows from behind him.

A week after his arrival in Farset, Acri has become accustomed to Bridget – from her visits to her seemingly nonstop chatter. With the Red Rider nursing him back to health (rather aggressively, if he might add), he is quickly recovering from his injuries. Much to his chagrin, the price he has to pay is Bridget constantly using her sass and sarcasm to push his buttons. She’s even worse than Angelique!

Even after all the time they spent together, Acri still refuses to give her his name and let her see him use his magic. After days of enduring the nickname she gave him, he started teasing her back by making witty comments about her short height. How come she could get away with murder, while my quips against her are limited only up to three times a day! Acri winced when he remembered how she almost tied him up a tree by his feet when he once put a toe out of the line. Short people are so terrifying!

“How long was I passed out?” Acri asked as he dropped down a large stack of firewood – he hacked it to pieces with a magic ax when she wasn’t looking.

“Three days, give or take” Bridget grunted as she tried to carry a heavy pot into the campsite. Acri jogged to take the heavy object off her hands “In my defense, I would have been knocked into a coma due to exhaustion, so my count must be off!” Acri raised an eyebrow at her statement. Bridget merely flashed him with a bright smile, her hands placed on her chest as he rolled his eyes at her antics “You weren’t exactly an easy person to carry, you know?”

“Given your small stature, I wouldn’t have guessed!” Acri muttered, a half-smile forming on his lips. Bridget turned to kick him at the shins but he easily evaded her attack by quickly stepping to the side. “I meant, it must have been difficult carrying me around for days” Bridget held the ladle in front of her threateningly as she glared at Acri.

For such a short person, she has such a wild temper!

Once Bridget diverted her attention from the war mage to the boiling water in the pot, Acri chortled in between coughs “Especially for someone as vertically-challenged as you!” A stick from the untouched pile of firewood hit the war mage on the back of his head.

And that’s the last short-related joke for today!

Acri rubbed the sore spot and glared at her. Bridget stuck out her tongue at him then went back to cooking.

I feel sorry for her future husband already!

“For your information, I did not carry you around for days! Although I cannot just leave you in your weakened state, I still have my duties to attend to!”

“How do you manage to perform your duties if you’re looking after me?”

“Recently, the king has been frequently sending me out on errands,” Bridget said, tossing a sprig of parsley into the pot “I set up a small camp and dragged your scraggy bottom here” A small chuckle escaped from her lips as she dusted off her red cloak “In between my missions, I make detours so I could attend to your injuries!”

The bright glow of the fire made her hair look golden; the red color of her cloak added a pink hue to her face. When she turned to face Acri, he cannot help but stare in awe.

“It does not impede upon your work?” Acri asked, sitting on the grass as he watched her work “You’re not bothered by the trouble?”

“If there’s one thing that greatly bothered me, it’s your habit of talking in your sleep!” Bridget replied, her face scrunching up as she stirred the contents of the pot “You should really hear it for yourself. You sound so ridiculous!”

A few days later, Acri almost celebrated for joy when his bandages have come off. He rolled his shoulders back, delighted when he didn’t feel any pain. Although the wound left a scar in his abdomen, Bridget did a great job at patching him up.

Which reminds me…

“I got something for you, by the way!”

“Are you finally going to tell me your name?” Bridget perked up from her seat, her shoulders drooping when Acri shook his head “Well if it’s something that that you cooked, then I’m not hungry!” Bridget pouted at him, nibbling on a piece of bread. Acri furrowed his eyebrows at her statement “Don’t give me that look! You’re the one who thinks chives would go well with tea!”

“Just close your eyes!” Despite the deep frown on her face, Bridget did what she was told and shut her eyes tightly.

Acri raised his hand at eye-level, feeling the dark shadows balance itself at the palm of his hand. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he locked tendrils of his magic into the weapon. The blade hardened when he wrapped his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger.

Unlike the other weapons that I made, this dagger will not disappear…

“Now, open your eyes!”

“Wolf?” Bridget whispered, her eyes shining brightly as she eyed the pretty dagger “Where did you get this?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Bridget removed the dagger from its scabbard, her eyes widening as she admired the intricate details on the blade. “It’s just that I’ve never seen anything like it!” She tossed the dagger in the air and flipped it in between her hands “Thank you so much!”

No, it is I who should thank you!

“Silence, you fools!”

Acri was gathering firewood when he spotted the familiar black-red uniform of Chosen mages. His heart was beating wildly against his chest when he hid behind a tree, not far from where the mages are having a heated discussion.

“We only have one shot at this assignment and if we fail, we might as well return with our heads on a stick!” the leader of the group barked at his underlings, his voice could be heard loud and clear from the distance “The Red Rider is carrying vital information against the Chosen! Our mission is to make sure that she never delivers the message to the royals!”

They’re talking about Bridget!

Acri crouched low to the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to get a closer look through the tall grass.

“How will we find the Red Rider?”

“Have you always been this obtuse or are you doing this just to annoy me?” the leader of the group hissed as he hit one of the smaller mages on the back of the head “The Red Rider – you absolute genius – is the one with the red cape and red horses!”

“But, sir, I’m colorblind!”

The leader of the group took a deep breath before slamming his face on the palm of his hands. The other mages continued with whatever they’re doing as if this occurrence wasn’t out of the normal for them.

“Among all the hundreds of mages that I could have been assigned with, why do I have to be stuck with you three?” After a few minutes of muttering curses and incomprehensible gibberish, the leader straightened up to glare at his subordinates.

“Why don’t we attack her elsewhere?” one of the mage underlings suggested, leaning against the base of a tree “Perhaps somewhere far from the elves of Farset?”

“The Red Rider rides one of the swiftest and most vicious herds of elven horses! If we don’t attack her now, we might not be able to stop her in time!” the leader explained as he pointed to the dust-covered path “The quickest way to the royals’ assemblage is through this route. In a few hours, the rider will be passing through this path. I expect you all to be prepared to take the rider down!”

“We’ll capture the Red Rider and drag her to the headquarters?” the colorblind mage asked, nodding slowly at the leader’s speech.

“No, you idiot!” the leader snapped, his neck turning a deep shade of red “We’re here to kill the Red Rider!”

I have to warn Bridget!

Acri was heavily panting when he finally reached the campsite, his heart beating harder than ever when he didn’t see the red-cloaked rider or her equally hostile steed around the area.

I’m such an idiot! I should have attacked those mages when I had the chance! Acri cursed when an explosion on the other side of the forest – followed by a torrent of indecent language that could only belong to the fairly short rider – caught his attention. He whipped his head so fast, he almost gave himself a whiplash.

“It’s an ambush!” Bridget cursed as she struggled to keep her horse calm, the impatient gelding far too eager to charge at the mages attacking them. Her steed snorted, stomping its hooves against the earth when a group of dark mages emerged into the clearing.

The Red Rider reached for her sword, strapped to the side of her mount’s saddle. She ducked just in time when a green beam of light nearly struck her and whirred past her shoulder. The tree behind her burst into flames when the spell made contact with it.

Bridget jostled when her horse reared abruptly, using its front legs to strike one of their assailants in the chest. He staggered on his feet and collapsed to the ground in a heap.

“You insolent wench!” one of the dark mages snarled as he pointed his fingers at her. A jet of yellow light struck the young rider in the chest.

Bridget was flung off her mount’s saddle, a deafening scream escaping from her lips as she fell to the ground.

Get away from her!

Acri’s legs started moving on their own when he heard Bridget scream. His eyes flashed with unfathomable fury as he jumped over a large boulder, a towering wall of weapons erupting from behind him.

With a roar, he directed the weapons towards the dark mage that struck Bridget. His opponent fell on his back and landed on the ground, his body writhing in pain.

Don’t touch her!

Acri leaped backwards, rapidly raising fragments of his magic to shield himself from his adversary’s blows. The barricade of shadows disintegrated into dust as he dropped his hands, twisting his magic at his fingertips and firing a bolt of lightning against the remaining mages.

Don’t you dare hurt her!

Acri stood in the center of the smolder, the smoke from the skirmish started to clear around him. Remnants of dust and ashes filled the air and covered the path like a fog. He turned around, his eyes narrowed as he fervently searched for the red-cloaked rider.

His heart plummeted down to his stomach when their eyes met.

“It’s okay, Acri!” Bridget whispered, looking at the war mage in the eye as she slowly limped towards him. Acri flinched when he realized that she called him by his real name “You don’t need to explain!”

“You know who I am?” Acri said, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Enchantress Angelique told me about you” Bridget nodded at him, placing her hand on his shoulder “When I first saw you, you were wearing your Chosen uniform. There aren’t many magic-users in this continent gifted with the same color as your eyes and temper” She paused as if she’s contemplating her next words “And when you failed to return home, Lord Enchanter Clovicus told each and every one of the Farset riders to keep an eye out for you”

“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t want to press the topic further if you’re not ready!” Bridget replied, removing her hand from his shoulder. Acri fought back the urge to hold her hands in his. “I also wanted you to put your trust in me – enough that you’d give me your name yourself”

Acri stared into her bright blue eyes, afraid that at any moment, he will wake up to find that all of this is just a dream. The gleam in her eyes and the genuine smile on her face assured him that she is telling the truth – that she accepts him.

“And you still liked me?”

Bridget cupped his face in her hands “I loved you”

#lancelot hateclub #km shea #timeless fairytales #fairytale enchantress #fanfiction #chosen au #au!chosen #acri #bridget #acrixbridget #acridget #the red rider #little red riding hood #12 dancing princesses #red rider #acrilique stabby siblings #shadows #scarlet #shadows and scarlet #shadows & scarlet #chosen #au #fanfic

[jazzy-art-time]

[ This was a blurb or summthin that I had in my notes! I found a lot of writing things in my notes on my phone that I never uploaded/completed? This one WAS complete so... Figured I would upload it?? ITS BADLY WRITTEN BUT.... whatever.] [ WARNING, CONTAINS: Violence, blood, gore, swearing, child endangerment/child harm. As well as suggestive stuff being mentioned! Take care if you read ] - - The world was fading in and out.

Jody’s eyes slowly attempted to adjust to what had just happened. Her head and body aching from the sudden jerk and turns. Her hearing had not yet returned but she manages to sit up slowly.

The carriage was on its side, the glass windows were shattered, scattering shards around her. Some appeared to be stuck in her arm, the young scraggy winces as she notices a rather large piece stuck in her shoulder. But otherwise she seemed fine, other than her head aching. As her hearing slowly returned she attempted to look out a torn hole in the roof, which was now on the side, to see if anyone else was still around.

She was returning from a special event being held in her kingdoms court. Jody had no idea what it was about really, but due to her royal status as the King’s eldest daughter, she was required to be there. She hardly paid attention the entire time, she just wanted to go back home away from father to play with her baby sister. She was learning how to walk and Jody, although not fully experienced herself, was excited to teach her. She would been finally be able to take Diane out for a walk in the garden without having to carry her in all those ridiculous protective blankets.

Her parents... Mom and Father, where was their carriage? The Scraggy grabs her head in pain as she attempts to get a firm grip on reality, desperately searching for her parents location. The dark forest did not seem to have any signs of them, the slight patches of light through the tops of the trees not helping in the slightest.

She peers over to her side and squeaks in alarm, as one of the lanterns from the side of the carriage had shattered open and was starting to set fire to the seating. Quickly as she scrambles out to avoid the flames, a loud screaming blares into her ears. Although she had escaped the small fire of the chariot, there seemed to be a even bigger threat, the creature that appeared to have knocked them over.

It was two ursarings, feral by the looks of their hollow non-sentient eyes and matted fur. Their teeth flashed yellow and red as they growled over a pile of unknown flesh. ..... However the larger one of the two appeared to have a familiar bit of lace stuck in his fangs.

That pile of flesh and bones must have been Daisy, A member of the help who helped Jody get dressed every day and tried to teach her proper manners. Jody never did enjoy how rough she got when she would smack the young scraggy with a ruler when she misbehaved but, she didn’t deserve this.

As much as Jody wanted to cry and scream for her mother, her eyes darted towards the source of the screaming. The driver appeared to be pinned underneath a broken part of the wooden carriage, legs crushed by the weight and seemed to have hit his head rather hard on the ground. But his screaming wasn’t directed towards that fact.

One of the ursaring began to move towards him, their snarling and claws dragging across the ground the only sound aside from the poor man’s shrieks of terror. He was pleading for his life, not to the ursaring but to whatever god was willing to listen. Between the prayers of promising to be a better man and fighting that he was too young to die just then, was pure screaming of terror and agony as he attempted to move the chariot crushing him.

Jody shrieked in horror as she suddenly saw the man’s head being ripped from his body, a piece of his spine still dangling down from the jaws of the large bear. Her loud shriek did not go unnoticed however, as the ursaring in the distance had turned towards her, obviously not aware of her existence until she accidentally made a sound. The other continued to bite and claw at the corpse on the ground, no longer the driver, but merely a meal.

She couldn’t move. The only thing moving was her heart beat thudding in her chest harder than it ever had, even the ritual with that priest before wasn’t as terrifying as this. The ursaring remained its course towards her, its hollow rage filled gaze fixated on her, ready to bust out into a sprint after her if she dared even moved. This was it.

She knew she couldn’t outrun this beast, even if she could, she would tire out way before it did. She had felt fear before on multiple occasions, but this felt worse than anything she had ever experienced. She was trapped in a open clearing, no possible escape, the helplessness she felt began to practically ache as she watched the beast grudge towards her at a leisurely pace.

Jody didn’t know what Death was fully. Her only real knowledge is that if a person ‘died’ they just wouldn’t be around anymore, like when Aunt Dutch went on her fancy vacations but it was for a very very long time. Jody didn’t know the pain that came with death, but somehow she knew that whatever the bear was going to do to her was going to be one of the most agonizing things she would feel.

She didn’t want to die, she wanted to be with her mother and sister. She wanted to see Diane walk and teach her all the things she had learn in private lessons. Just to place her pretty princess cap over her siblings head one more time to watch her tiny body get hidden inside, only to remove the cap quickly to watch her baby sibling squeak with delight. She wanted Mother to hug her or read her that one book about the puppy who got lost but found a new home. She wanted to watch her father get beaten up by.. well anything, maybe watch a maid accidentally drop a vase on his foot again. But she knew, that there wasn’t going to be a chance for any of those anymore. The last thing she said to her sister was a kiss on the head and a goodbye, with a promise to show her how to play with dolls. Her mother’s last words was that she would see her back at home and she was going to make honey biscuits. At least none of them were sour, her final conversations would have at least been kind.

Jody shakily covered her eyes, she didn’t want to see what was going to happen next, maybe once it was over she could uncover them. The ursaring took a sharp inhale at her sudden movement and let out a raspy snarl as it began to charge at her, leaping with its claws extended at her.

Jody’s grip tightened on her face and curled her tail around herself protectively at the sound of the beast bounding closer and closer. Any second now it was coming and it would be over quickly, right?

.....

....

.

Any second now the pain was coming!

...

.

Maybe death isn’t painful at all?... Jody waited patiently once more with her eyes covered, surely it was gonna happen!

...

..

drip

.....

drip

Here it was! Pain! Agony! Death!..... This is it! Dripping oozing death!

.

....

drip

....

.

drip..

...

Jody continued to feel wet drops on her forehead as her eyes remained covered.

Wet? Was death wet? Was this supposed to be painful? Maybe she was strong and she didn’t feel the pain?

....

drip

.....

Slowly Jody peered between her fingers curiously, was she dead yet? The scraggy quickly recovered her eyes once more out of fear. Nope! Not yet! Maybe just a minute more then death?

...

...

Nothing..

She once again peered through her fingers, what was taking so long? As her sight refocused on what was in front of her she got confused. It was the bears chest! What was it doing? Was it standing over her? Was it waiting for her to look at it? Does death require you to look at whatever’s killing you? Jody stared at the beasts chest between her fingers in confusion. The bloody matted fur had blood slowly oozing down it in streams, but it wasn’t the same blood from before from what was left of the maid... Jody uncovered her eyes fully and slowly began to look up to see what the creature was doing and figure out what was dripping on her. Snapping her head upward to face the creature’s head, almost accusingly of taking so long with killing her.

But there wasn’t a head.

A mangled stump where the head should have been was dripping blood onto her face. Slowly more and more blood began to poor out as the body shuddered and fell over in front of her. Jody shakily began to wipe the blood from her face and eyes to get a better look at what had unfolded before her. What happened? Heads just don’t go away! Was this how peek-a-boo was supposed to go and it turns out Mother was just really bad at it? She nervously looked over where the other beast was, it was staring in her direction snarling loudly, slowly getting into a defensive stance.

Why was it looking at her like that? She didn’t do anything! Jody trembled in place as she stared at the other beast. Her eyes squint a bit at it, it wasn’t staring at her exactly was it? Jody wasn’t that tall, well she would like to be that tall but sadly she wasn’t. Maybe if she was that tall she could kiss mother’s cheek without help! But it certainly was looking in her direction although, but it seemed it was looking behind her almost?

Her head attempted to slowly turn to look behind her to confirm her theory, only to jump as the dead ursarings head is suddenly dropped right beside her. The tiny lizard squeaks in horror and quickly scoots away from the decapitated head. It was smelly and dripping blood like crazy, gross! Scary! She whips her head behind her to spot the culprit of the action and freezes.

It was a big houndoom. Was it? Something was off about it, it looked more mangled than others. Standing on hind legs like a sentient person and not a feral beast. It’s fur was shades of dark reds than black. The most of its skeleton appearing to be on the outside of its body. It’s horns curled around the sides of its head and it’s face... of lack of face... seemed to be covered by a glowing red star. Jody’s blood slowly chills as she seems to somehow recognize the star marking, the fear was lukewarm and somewhat hazy. Her memories seemed to be almost repressed. Memories of walking into the darkened room with the priest... a chill and a outline of a dog... a bright red star... then a bite.... Pain and screaming.. All of the memories seemed to be trapped in her head so she couldn’t fully remember what had happened..

Did a dog bite her? Maybe... the fear in her chest felt like she had been bitten by this creature before.. But why would a man bite her? They didn’t look feral!

Thoughts scrambled in Jody’s head as she attempted to remember, grabbing her head in almost a pained stance. The houndoom however, merely looked down at her with a grimace. Clearly not enjoying the sight of her there. Jody couldn’t help but whimper a bit as it faced towards her, hoping it wouldn’t take off her head like the Ursaring that once stood before her.. she needed her head! The Houndoom simply made a motion as if it was rolling its eyes and walked past her, not interested in dealing with her right that second.

Jody watched as the Houndoom stood in front of the beast in a non threatening stance and began to speak. “Run along now. You’ve eaten a entire maid, you don’t need anything else you lard filled maggot” His voice sounded bored and irritated, not even bothering to make eye contact with the beast before him, instead looking at his nails with a look of disgust and flicking off chunks of ursaring flesh from them. The bear in front of them snarled threateningly, fur rising on every point of its body in pure rage. The houndoom’s body glanced over at the corpse of it’s fellow bear, smirking a bit. “Oh, was that your mate? Guess you’ll need someone else to court now darling.” They let out a cocky laugh at the beasts expense, clearly taking some pleasure in this fact. Tail swishing back and forth with a slight swagger in his step as he continued forward to the bear. “Don’t worry, you’ll be together again soon.” Jody didn’t bother to see what happened next, in fact, she was already a good 18 feet away after he uttered his last sentence. Jody knew that he was going to mutilate that bear just like he did the first and she didn’t want to be around to be in the cross fire. The scraggy struggled to sprint in the dense brush and weeds, her overly puffy dress snagging on anything that came close. Legs wobbling as she still hadn’t quite perfected the balance of being on two legs, most her age probably could walk perfectly by now but, she was very coddled and didn’t walk much in the castle.

The roar and screeching in the distance behind her was all the motivation her adrenaline needed to keep pounding forward, well balanced or not she was determined to keep getting as far away as she could from that place. Not caring if she was heading deeper into the woods, farther and farther away from the path home. She just wanted the hell out of there and away from that... thing. The scraggy kept running and running, a good 15 minutes had passed without her stopping, to her however it felt like a eternity of running. Jody stops by a creek, panting and heaving heavily, her lungs feeling as if they were on fire. Falling to her knees suddenly as she continues to gasp for air, holding her arm tightly. The side with the glass shard began to hurt much more, as the various bushes and thorns had scraped up her skin. The once beautiful pale pink gown that she had specially made, father said it costed a fortune and rubbed that fact in her face, was absolutely destroyed. She desperately tried to cover up parts of her that were exposed, both due to the freezing night air as well as embarrassment. Everyone always said a ‘princess must be modest and never show too much skin’ , Jody didn’t know if that fact applied to gaps on the side torn open by thorns, but she didn’t want to find out. The thought of Daisy finding out about her showing too much skin and ruining her gown filled the scraggy with anxiety, before Jody stops suddenly and slumps down That’s right...  Daisy is dead. As her breathing slowed, she hugged her knees and stared at the small body of water before her, thinking about what she was to do next.  She couldn’t find her way home, the only way back was to go near... the carriage accident... She certainly wasn’t doing that. She was taught to never talk to strangers, too many people would love to ‘kidnap her for ransom’..... whatever that means. But Mother seemed horribly worried about it, even when she was sick in bed she would always tell Jody to never go outside without aid. So it must be pretty bad... Maybe if she waited here long enough, they would come and find her! Maybe Father would send out a search for her this time! She didn’t like him much, but she knew that since Father had the Priest take her into the dark room with her, he seemed happier! Mommy seemed to get better after that too so maybe she was on the good list now! She was a good girl! Surely they would come look for her! Yeah! Jody wiped away the tears in her eyes with determination. If they were gonna find her, she would need to look pretty! She looks at her injured shoulder with squinted eyes, she would have to deal with this first before she can clean her dress. With the glass shard in her arm it would just keep bleeding and ruining the dress more and more. The scraggy grasps the edge of the shard slowly, wincing in the process, then yanks suddenly in a feeble attempt to pull it out. The scraggy shrieks in pain and grabs her hand whimpering, the shard still in her shoulder and in more pain than ever, as well as a fresh cut mark on the palm of her hand. The sharp edge of it easily cutting through her flesh when she attempted to rip it out, not even budging the shard. Jody curls into her body a bit, hugging her hand and trying her best not to cry, failing miserably. “Were you dropped on your head as a infant or is this just natural stupidity.” The sudden voice beside her caused Jody to yelp and fall to her side. Her teared filled eyes staring at the thing beside her. The houndoom from before was crouched next to her, his large body looming over her almost like a tree. The lack of eyes didn’t stop the feeling that it was staring right into hers and it didn’t seem happy. Jody’s instinct was to instantly jump into the tiny creek in front of them, her body lunging forward into the ankle deep water. Laying on her back she stared at the creature in front of her with fear, perhaps it had come back to kill her off like it did the ursaring! But it was a houndoom, it couldn’t go into the water! She had read that fire types are only okay in hot water but cold water they were helpless! The creek water only went up to her wrist, but she felt safer in the water than she did on land next to it. “Oh I get it, you’re both. Naturally stupid with a bit of help by a clumsy nanny.” The houndoom seemed more irritated by the second. Leaning forward and grabbing each of Jody’s temples with its claws and lifting her out of the water. The scraggy wiggled and squeaked in pain at the claws digging into her skull but couldn’t even wrap her hands around even one of his fingers. The houndoom shook her a bit to cause more discomfort and pain as he continued to speak in a low grumble. “Do you honestly think THAT tiny creek is going to hinder me in even the slightest?” The houndoom tosses Jody onto the ground like a piece of crumbled paper, landing face first into the dirt and grass below. Any yelp or whimper made by the scraggy was muffled and more of a wheeze of pain. The houndoom stood up, now towering even taller before her and let out a audible snort of disgust. “I swear I know children are just starting out life but good god you are the stupidest I’ve ever seen yet! ‘oh im gonna run away on my tiny wobbly pretty princess legs and think that this mere piss of a creek will protect me!’ fucking pathetic.” The canine spat at the child below him, her mere existence seeming to cause him more and more irritation. Jody attempted to push herself up only to fall down on her stomach again, the pain and exhaustion clearly setting in at a fast pace. The houndoom grimaced at the sight and began to slowly pace back and forth in the small clearing they were in, footsteps booming in Jody’s ears. “I just don’t get why I got the shit end here! I went from a fuckable whore to just-” the houndoom’s voice snarled and tiny embers sparking from its teeth “-A CHILD.” The tiny scraggy’s body easily got lifted by the canine’s tail as it held it up to his face “What even worth ARE YOU to my Mistress Abyssmial? Pathetic.” The tail holding up Jody suddenly swipes out from underneath her, causing her to fall to the ground with a thud, knocking what little breath she had out of her lungs. The creature above her scoffs and bends down to her level. “You know, I was planning on fucking your mother... Whether she agreed or not. Tight ass ‘n whatnot. Prolly could take in whatever I shoved in.” The houndoom smiled and cocked his head to the side. “Maybe THAT’S why my Mistress allowed that king to pawn the curse onto you, worried I would enjoy fucking your mother more than her-”  “s...stop talking about my... m-mommy... like that.” The houndoom slowly turned his head back to the child, who was attempting to sit up once more. “I.. d-don’t know what you.... a-are saying but... S-SToP iT...” Jody’s words were a pathetic hiss as she struggled to get off her stomach. The houndoom’s previous irritation quickly melted into uncontrollable amusement at the child’s efforts to be threatening. “AHAH... Really now? Telling me to stop but you haven’t the slightest fucking idea what I’m talking about. Don’t even know what fucking is, betcha don’t know what a cock is either. Guess I can’t say about how your mother would be choking on it.” A wicked smile slid across the houndooms face as it spoke in a cocky manner, he knew she didn’t know what any of that was, but the mere fact of the child getting so riled up over it filled him with joy. Jody slowly managed to sit herself up enough to hold her gaze into his.  “I d-don’t know... w-what that m-means.. But you s-sound... like... FathEr.....” The scraggy’s voice merely a raspy hiss, he pupils narrowing as she gazed at the powerful creature looming over her. “I DON’T LIKE FATHER.” The scraggy spit in the houndoms face and continued to hiss at him.  Jody barely had time to duck or even blink as the houndooms hand suddenly slammed against her head, forcing her face into the dirt before being yanked up, the creatures hand’s slowly crushing her head. He wipes the spit off his cheek with a sneer and holds Jody up to his face. “You really are fucking stupid kid. You have absolutely NO idea who you are dealing with, do you.” Jody struggled under his hand, shrieking a bit and desperately trying to get out of his grip, fists banging against his fingers feebly. “I save your worthless ass from wild bears and you spit on my face? Spoiled bitch! Did I hurt your feewings? Boo fucking hoo princess. You could be gut deep and shat out by a wild animal by now and I could be back where I wanna be. But no, instead of letting the kid die for once, I showed some kindness and you SPIT. IN. MY. FACE. All because you have some stupid daddy issues. I expect an apology.” The houndoom’s grip on Jody’s skull tightens even more as he speaks. “Right. Now.” Jody’s eyes struggled to focus on the houndoom in front of her, the pain just wouldn’t stop. Her shoulder... her legs... her lungs... her head... everything hurt so much... Why wouldn’t the pain stop. What did she DO? What has she possibly done to have any of this happen? The scraggy’s eyes filled with tears as she heard the houndoom laugh, he began to make more comments about her but she stopped hearing anything. Her eyes focused on the glowing star replacing the houndoom’s face.... That star.... that glowing.. red star... Her pupils slowly began to dilate as everything in her sight began to get fuzzy and dark, only the red star remained clear... That red star... That evening.... The Priest.... The Dark room... The bite.... no... it wasn’t a bite was it?.... It was just... that red star.... That. God. Damn. Red. Star. Jody’s teeth began to grind and lips curling into a snarl as her eyes focus more and more... more than even possible. It was Father’s fault.  That red star was here... was there in the room.... was on Mother when she was sick.... because of FATHER. Jody felt a burning on her cheek but the pain didn’t seem to bother her. No pain seemed to bother her right now. All that mattered was that red star. The world slowly came back into view as her hearing began to return, the world appeared to have lost some color. The once blue hues of the evening suddenly appeared more... gray... Soon enough The houndoom’s voice beginning to ring clear again, but it didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t listening to him anymore. “I. SAID. STOP. TALKING.” The scraggy shrieked and suddenly swung her legs forward, scratching the houndoom’s face. Caught by surprise, the beast suddenly dropped her to grab his face in slight pain. Jody landed with a hard thud but sat back up again with a pained wheeze, eyes glaring up at the houndoom with hatred.  “W̵h̶A̷T̷ ̸T̵h̴e̴ ̶F̴U̶C̵ ̶K̴ ̶W̵A̶S̷ ̸T̴H̸A̷T̴” The houndoom snarled down at the scraggy and raised a hand up to smack her, she didn’t hurt him all that bad but he still was insulted and wanted her to pay for it. Jody however, now showed no fear, the scraggy stood up in a defensive stance, a mixture of high pitched snarls and hisses spat out from her. As the creature swung down at her, the lizard jumped onto his wrist and began to bite and claw at his flesh, any attempt to cause pain. Swatting his arm up and down several times, the houndoom manages to fling the scraggy off of him, clutching the minimal yet surprising damage to his skin. Jody lands on her back a little bit across the clearing, but huffs and manages to stand up again, although a bit lopsided with a limp.  The houndoom looked over in almost surprise as he noticed the scraggy’s defensive posture, as she was once again hissing and snarling and spitting. His anger appeared to subside at the sight, not impressed but... almost. Took a lot of balls to stand up to a demon such as himself.... hell it’s surprising the kid hadn’t pissed herself and or already died. His posture changes from hostile to more relaxed, shrugging off the tiny assault he just went through. Slowly circling the scraggy, he stared her up and down, watching her continue to hiss and spit and attempt to attack his ankles, even allowing her to throw pebbles at him. The houndoom gets down on his knees in a attempt to get to her level, grabbing her by the scruff and once more holding her up to his face as she continued to thrash and shriek in anger at him, attempting to scratch his fingers. He observes her up close, grabbing her tiny hands when she attempts to get at his face, attempting to observe his tiny features as closely as possible.  Jody doesn’t take notice of his observing of her features, all she felt was rage and thrashing about attempting to hurt the creature holding her further was all she could focus on.  “What colors do you see right now child?” He grabs her cheeks and turns her face back and forth, observing the star on her cheek before forcefully opening her mouth to look at her teeth. Jody angrily shakes out of his grasp and stares at him in rage and confusion. “WHAT.” her voice was tiny but stern and shrill, how DARE he ask a question while she is mid battle with him. “I said What colors do you see right now. I need to know, don’t bother refusing because I’ll just force it out of you.” He grasps one of her feet and observes it as he awaits her answer. Jody is hesitant at first, but realizes his words prolly ring some truth to them. She attempts to yank her foot out from his grasp as she hisses with gritted teeth. “BLACK AND WHITE...”  The houndoom stops momentarily and curls a lip. “That it?” Jody’s focus once again lands on the star on his face, once more fueling her with rage. Between the world’s gray scale coloring, that damn star on his face glowed strongly and almost blindingly. “AND RED!!” the scraggy shrieked and attempted to lunge at his face with tiny claws wailing back and forth violently. The houndoom jolted at the comment and froze for a second before letting out a deep sigh and slowly lowering Jody to the ground. “Fucking...hell.... just...” The houndoom inhaled in frustration and rubbed his temples in thought, so this is why Abyssmial let the curse transfer to the child before him, much to his distaste. Jody took this as a opportunity to begin assault on his knees, biting and slamming her fists against his kneecap. The man merely stared at her, she wasn’t doing any damage to him, but that certainly wasn’t stopping her. He continued watching her shrieking and hissing as she assaulted his knees and thighs, she had begin to crawl into his lap and scratch at his stomach in fury. With a loud sigh, he grabs her by the scruff and holds her out in front of him. “Alright... Look uh... Kid.... I’m not... Used to this... Most kids I deal with tend to die instantly either by rot or summthin’ killing them but.... It looks like you and I are stuck together.” the scraggy freezes at the comment, Jody begins to slow down a bit with her attack and stares at him, panting heavily with eyes squinted in confusion. “Listen.. This whole.... seeing in black and white and red thing... Isn’t normal for most... victims of this thing. It means you’re different, not really special but,... different.” The houndoom slowly sets her down as he continues to speak. “I can’t go anywhere as it is, but now it looks like I REALLY CANT... Guess I’m... BOUND to you I guess... I haven’t been bound to someone with this bullshit in like 35 years so...” Jody merely stares up at him, not sure what he is saying but holds back her fists of fury long enough to listen. “Oh right kid uh... children don’t.. get or know about... uh. Listen. I CAN’T go anywhere, I would if I could. But I can’t. We are stuck together and nothing can stop it.” Jody’s face turns into a rage filled grimace at the mere sentence. She didn’t want to be around this guy, she wanted to go home and be with mother and Diane... to forget this night ever happened. She didn’t ever want to see this man again! The houndoom clearly read her expression and almost had a simmilar one, he inhales sharply and continues talking anyways. “If we are going to be stuck together, might as well try to get along.” He held out his paw for her to take, only to be met with her slapping at it in anger. Another loud sigh leaves his lips and bites his tongue a bit in thought.  She’s just a kid, a fucking violent and stupid kid but... still a child. He had watched the kid a few times, she liked dogs or something. Maybe that would put her more at ease. The large creature suddenly cloaks himself in a shadow, startling Jody as she jumps back in surprise as the anthropomorphic houndoom creature suddenly morphs into a shadow. A more feral form, cloaked entirely in pure black, the only color being the red star prominent on his face, glowing red teeth and the token houndoom skull pendant on his chest. The scraggy stood back, still staring at the star on his face with a hiss. The creature makes a eye rolling motion and steps toward Jody slowly. Shaking his head the star slowly disappears, revealing two white eyes. “There, it’s gone. Better?” The creatures voice was low now, much softer. Jody stops for a second, staring at the creature in front of her. She knew it was the same man from before but... he looked like a puppy now... but no.. she knew he was still the bad man. But... couldn’t help being more at ease with his new appearance. As her breathing slows, her anger slowly subsides and color begins to return to her sight, the burning in her cheek mark dying as well.  The houndoom continued gently patting toward her and forces his head underneath her palm, embarrassing but anything to get her to calm down. Jody jerks at this sudden gesture but slowly begins to pet him anyways, although cautious. She gently pets the creatures head and speaks softly in a lowkey hostile tone. “...who are you....or...wh..what.. you aren’t...a puppy...”  The houndoom lets out a sigh of relief, beginning to worry this was going to last all night. He stood up taller and looked down at the child below him. “My name is Abigor... I’m a demon... not like... you would know what that is...because you’re like...a  fucking kid jesus christ i’m gonna have to explain-..h.hhhh...” Abigor walks behind Jody and nuzzle her from behind. “I’ll explain it more to you on the way back home. I don’t have time to wait for you to get older to explain all this shit.” Jody stands up straight and whips around and stares at him in anger, teeth slightly gritted in silence. Abigor groaned, he knew what that look was implying. “Okay look. I won’t say anymore shit about your mother and I wont try to hurt you anymore, for all the time we have to spend together I wont say or do shit like that again. Sorry I did it in the first place. Granted You ain’t got no reason to believe me on that but whatever. Dog’s Honor or whatever you kids believe in.” He continues to nuzzle her along in a attempt to get moving. Jody stumbled and limped as she tried to walk, a bit more at ease with his ‘promise’... She didn’t fully believe him but... He DID apologize and say not to do it again... So this... creature that had hurt her and terrorized her... Already had a step up on her father. So that was enough to subside most of her anger. “....my.... Name is Jody...” Abigor huffs a bit in irritation. “Yes I know your name. Now hurry up, hop on my back or something. I don’t have all night and neither do you” He forcefully slides his body under hers and pops up with her riding on his back. Jody resists a bit and slaps his horns in anger, but remains on his back. Her entire body ached and was in severe pain once more, not having to walk was a blessing!... even if it was riding on the back of this... thing. As Abigor continued to walk onward, assumingly back towards the castle, Jody gently grabbed the canines horns for safety not to fall off. They continued on in silence before the nagging question finally left the scraggy’s lips. “Are you the real reason why Mommy was so sick...” “...I was the one causing it. But your father started it, but nothing is going to hurt your mother anymore. You’ve taken your mothers place now, its your job.” “....what job?” “.... “ “.....” “That’s going to be a long story”

#its Eh but whatever I'm not good at writing! #JodyBennet #AbigorHoundoom #not art #text post #long post #writing #child endangerment #violence #gore #sfw #ask blog stuff

[dannejavi]

Tales of Dusk: The Wicked Witch

"Yes, keep going.  Keep fucking me, Wolf!" The old hag’s ecstatic screams echoed inside the ruined cabin located at the far outskirts of the Beacon Hills Preserve.

Derek panted, breathless, as his hips rhythmically pistoned slamming relentlessly against Lorna’s elderly body. Heedless of any potential damage her seemingly frail body might incur, Lorna shook from the ferocious fucking. Rather, her bony, emaciated hands groped the hardened granite muscle of Derek’s ass, sharp nails dug into the taut flesh, eagerly pulling Derek’s body flush against her own.

Bathed in the full moon’s glow, streaming from the large gaping hole on the cabin roof, Derek’s and Lorna’s body were contorted in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs.  Skin stuck together from hours of pleasure. Derek had both hands cradling the witch’s cadaverous face, taking her crumpled mouth in a harsh bruising kiss. His tongue trespassing past yellowed crooked teeth, broken from age and use.

The beams of light surrounded them in a romantic glow.  And from a distance, the two would seem like any other passionate couple expressing their love underneath the pale moonlight.  But love, or at least true love, was far from what was happening. Lorna, the ancient centennial witch, had managed to cast a spell on Derek Hale, the last scion of the once powerful Hale werewolf line.  

Lorna uses Derek as a bodyguard, a mind-controlled slave to be her right hand and protect her from uncommon situations that may require brute force rather than magic. She also canalized a succubi witchcraft that allows her to leech vital energy from other people through the intimate exchange of bodily fluids.

AKA: sex.

To have under your thrall a young handsome born Alpha werewolf as both a personal bodyguard and deviant sex slave would be a genuine coup for anyone.  Lorna made sure to utilize her windfall as often as any 300-year-old woman can. Weeks after the fact, it’s still a huge stroke to her ego that all this glorious man is hers to have and own.

On the tattered mattress set on the dirty floor, Lorna’s pipe-thin legs quivered in the air.  Between them, Derek mercilessly hammered amidst the witch’s raucous screams of bliss. Her claws scratching a mess of lines across Derek’s broad back.  The slap of skin and Derek’s efforted grunts and gasps the symphony to their affair.

Derek felt her usually lose canal tighten, hear the quickened breath and rushing pulse coursing with adrenaline and endorphins.  He took one baggy tit and fondled what little form left within. With a lascivious smile, he locked his steel-flecked emerald eyes with her cataract-clouded ones and latched full lips onto a wrinkled nipple.

"Delicious." Derek hummed in bliss, cheeks hollowing while hungrily nursing the tit. Lorna choked on a giggle as she felt the rough of his tongue lap her liver-spotted skin, salty and greasy from their combined sweat and saliva.  

She laughed, bony hands moved between Derek's lower back and the slope of his plump ass. "Yeah, suck my tits, mutt." She ordered with two playful hard slaps.

Derek had slowed his thrusts to give her tits its appropriate worship, suckling, and nursing as he switched between.  Both equally saggy and withered, far different from the taut, smooth, firm ones Derek was more accustomed to with his previous lovers.

Nonetheless, he put on a show for her.  Fitting as much of the formless flesh inside his mouth.  Tongue dipping into wrinkled crevices. Suckling greedy as an unweaned baby.  He let the old flesh slide out from his lips, the tit slump over Lorna's chest with a wet bump, making both of them laugh. Derek smirk was to stop traffic, and the witch's proud of had caught such an Adonis bubbled in her guts.

Derek leaned over, sticking out his large flat tongue all over the protuberant bones on her liver-spotted cleavage. He kissed, licked and nibbled, rubbing his stubble on every inch of exposed wrinkly skin. It was like a dog scent marking his territory, his bitch. Lorna smiled. She brought right hand to hold Derek's jaw under long, creepy slender fingers, greyish nails digging the flawlessness of his skin.

"Do you like my aged, ancient form, wolf?" She asked, sneaking a thumb through Derek's swollen lips, he promptly takes it and starts to suckle.

"Love it." He mumbled around the finger, sweat-soaked face and clouded green eyes under the penumbra.

"Tell me more" Lorna teased behind a crooked smile.

Derek had both hands on her flaccid, lanky tights, thrusting uninterrupted into her loose cunt.

"Love your kisses, your tits. Love the dragging of my cock in and out of your pussy," Derek confessed, closing eyes and throwing head back. "God it’s amazing!"

The witch guffawed, giving two slaps on Derek's face to have his attention back. "You’re such a dog,” she said, nails raking down the flawless skin of his chest. “It’s time Alpha. Step up the tempo and breed me with your fertile semen."

"Yes ma'am" smiling, Derek obeyed. Assuming a straight position, he sits under his shins, pulling the hag closer and throwing her legs over his thick corded tights; Derek bracketed her thin waist and resumed the insane rhythm, watching his 10 inches cock sliding in and out of her loose, ancient pussy.

While Derek’s muscles puffed out beautifully, Lorna's protuberant bones made salient under her repugnant, crepey skin, with Derek's powerful strokes. It was like he was fucking a drought, withered corpse.

Sweat ran down in thick rivulets by the crevice of his spine, Derek's muscled form colliding against Lorna's decrepit one, a twisted, gruesome vision worthy of a terror movie.

"That's it Alpha, keep going.  I can feel it already" Lorna yelled out, feeling the succubi magic running through her body. She watched in ecstasy Derek's chiseled form, every inch of his sun-kissed skin drenched in sweat, rolling down the swell of his carved chest, his perfect abs rippling with each thrust, throbbing veins on his bulging biceps, his focused face staring down at her with wild and primal lust. She definitely wasn't getting rid of him any time soon.

Lorna’s whole body shook under Derek’s pace, her saggy breasts flapping back and forth violently. Despite her skeletal form, there’s not much of flabby skin to flap around, but every hit of Derek’s hips makes her old muscles ripple with mechanic impact.

Derek's breathing becomes frantic, almost desperate as he looked at Lorna, flashing red eyes. He slid hands up, bracketing her cadaveric, salient ribcage, pulling her decrepit body to meet his thrusts.

"It’s coming! Shit, it's coming!" he yelled out, feeling the pull on his massive balls.

"Yes! Breed my decayed form with your fertile seed, Alpha Hale. Breed the old witch to Ever-living!" Lorna shouted out as an enchantment, her high-pitched creepy laughs vibrating through Derek's body, her vagina tightens, almost like to prevent his cock to escape.

Derek bottomed out and stays still, throwing head back in a deep, animalistic roar, red eyes and sharp fangs exposed on his open mouth as his knot swells quickly, tying them up. The cold wind of the night shook the tree's crown outside the log cabin, frightening whistles through the cracks on the rotten wood boards.

Derek's body tensed as he dumped inside Lorna's longtime useless womb. She trembled, feeling her stud’s semen coating her dried endometrium, back arching from the mattress, hands gripping tight her messed brittle grey hair, desperately relishing on the tingling sensation arising from her hips, down her legs and up on her torso.

He spilled huge gallons of white creamy semen: one, two, three, four, five in a row, the muscles on his thighs and hips prickling.

That’s the extra effect from the only anatomical change she did on Derek’s body; a big bulbous knot at the base of his cock. It granted that wouldn’t slip out and made him ejaculate double, triple than usual. Even his balls had become bigger than normal due to the higher frequency of magical semen-producing.

In his Alpha form, he looked down at the witch, red eyes and fangs out, feeling his vitality flowing away through his balls and cock.

“Oh, shit, yes!” Lorna whined high pitched, shrunken mouth open in an ‘O’, her body squirming, eyes wide at the full moon above them; the image of her writhing naked form resembling an undead, withered mummy coming back to life. With cataract-clouded irises she looked over Derek, as her womb absorbed his werewolf loads, recharging her magic essence and providing life longevity.

"Oh, Mighty Mother! I feel so alive! It is exhilarating!" she gasped behind gruesome giggles, veins on her gaunt neck and skeletal arms bumping swollen with powerful Alpha energy into her decrepit body.

Derek’s muscles trembled as he huffed like a bull. He slid hands along Lorna’s scraggy tights, fangs turning back to the human shape and eyes greeting the witch with usual green shade. There’s a flush on his cheekbones, bangs plastered to his frown, sweat dripping by his stubbled chin when Derek looked down at her cadaveric face with a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

Feeling invigorated, Lorna quickly pushed herself up sitting on Derek’s lap. Legs wrapped on his waist, she put one arm around his shoulders, using her free hand to touch Derek’s face. The new position allows his cock goes deeper inside her, and he groans with the extra stimulation.

“Derek Samuel Hale,” She said nonchalantly with aged rusty voice, slender thumb stroking back and forth his flushed cheek. With lidded eyes and sex smug face, Derek stared her, bunny teeth showing between half-open lips.

“What a perfect, macho specimen that you are, uhn? Handsome face, Greek-God body, a high top predator and a prime breeder.” She leaned, licking the sweat off Derek’s face, suckling the droplets by his chin and lapping under his eyelids. “Mother Nature made you an epitome of masculinity. A legit masterpiece in form of flesh and blood. Best Alpha I ever had in decades”

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s my pleasure to serve you.” He darkly confessed between giggles when she dug broken teeth on his jawbone. Lorna’s long tongue slid out reaching Derek’s mouth, he promptly open to her full access.

Bathed by the silvery moonlight, they began to make out, a repugnant scene of entangled firm muscles and aged saggy flesh; a young Alpha werewolf and a centennial old hag connected by sexual frenzy.

Lorna's grey slimy tongue explored the insides of his mouth, lavishing it with rancid yellowed saliva and Derek correspond it, pressing his red, hot tongue against hers, kissing with such fervor and carnality in intention to make Lorna’s wrinkly mouth bruised.

Out of all fucked up situations Derek had got into his life, this could easily be on top of the rank.

The slurping sounds were wet, lascivious and obscene, Derek using his grip on her hips to move her back and forth, making friction necessary to brush his knot inside her cunt.  

Lorna broke the kiss and delivered a slap on his face, hard and strong, Derek’s head turning to the side at the force of it. He looked back at her, smirking as thin three red lines of nails bruises on his face slowly healing back to normal, leaving the skin flawless again.

“Stay still, mutt, otherwise your knot will never shrink back,” she said, leaning again to lick the little strips of blood before they healed.

“Your pussy is so warm, I could stay knotted on you forever.” Derek giggled, letting the witch licks all over his face.

Lorna's hideous guffaws filled the cabin.

“I know you are a wild animal in constant lust state that needs breed anything, anytime. But this won’t be a problem. I will keep you on a leash.” She clamped down, clutching her vaginal muscles around Derek swollen, sensitive knot, sending electric bolts up in his body.

With eyes closed, Derek groaned as unloaded more semen inside her.

“We’re gonna spend at least half an hour here. How about you suck my tits as we wait for your filthy knot shrunk back?”

Derek opened foggy eyes and smiled brightly “Great idea. Thank you, ma'am,” He latched on her cracked nipples, humming in glee as the witch’s shrieking, wicked laughs echoed through the night.

~X~

If you like my work or want me to write a drabble for you, consider visit my ko-fi page. It is very appreciated. Thank you 😊

#derek hale #alpha derek #top derek #my ficlets #drabble #teen wolf #halloween #dark theme #witchcraft #witch

[kinsale42-blog]

Excerpt: Amplification

The sequel to “Illumination” (PG-13 for some violence)

Khadgar/Kinsale, also starring Kalec, Thalyssra, Silgryn, & Oculeth, among others seen during the campaign for Suramar

 A mild breeze was blowing in off the sea, making the awnings and pennants in the city of Suramar flutter gracefully. The scraggy clifftop cypress tree in which the lone raven perched shifted from side to side. His overlook was too good to abandon for a more stable perch, so he merely dug his talons a little deeper into the branch.

 Khadgar had a dozen or so of these watchposts around the perimeter of the city. He generally used them to keep an eye on the level of demonic activity as the Burning Legion patrolled the streets and abused the citizens. He dared not enter the city himself just yet. Too much had yet to be done before he risked getting too close to where he was sure Gul'dan was waiting.

 Thus he was reduced to surveillance, forced to send others out to help build the resistance with the Nightborne exiles. Life had almost been simpler when he could be in the midst of the battle himself, where his primary decisions involved which orc to strike and how much magic he could safely use and still remain alive. He knew some members of the Kirin Tor were truly in their element in this sort of environment, but it wasn't his game. Khadgar had always been driven to acquire knowledge, and to know what was going on around him, but he was too straightforward for political maneuvering and meddling in the affairs of kingdoms. Espionage and intrigue frustrated him, and he knew that dealing in secrets only fed the belief that wizards were masterminds bent on shaping the world to their will.

 The breeze ruffled his raven feathers again. He couldn't stay much longer here, watching. There were other things that needed his attention, other things that troubled him about this war and the paths that had been hastily chosen to protect and defend his home world.

 He peered down into the Waning Crescent district. Fel flames still licked the corpses of civilians that had fallen when Elisande and her Legion allies had attempted to destroy the urban hub of the resistance. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the bridge into Evermoon Market, and the citizens and patrolling guards that crossed it. As he watched, he thought he saw a flash of light as a face turned in his direction, a face with the pale violet skin of a Nightborne elf but with a faint shimmer that suggested the outline of an illusion. Even with his magically-enhanced vision, he could not be entirely certain he saw what he thought he saw, but the warmth that filled his raven breast was all he needed to be sure. He released his grip on the tree branch and sailed back to the spires of Dalaran.

 ***

 Khadgar took a deep breath as he felt the vision world coalesce around him. It had been a long time since his last foray into the past but the sensation of displacement was still all too familiar. The mountain air chilled him and frost was already hardening on the ground as the Alterac midnight took shape. A great spruce tree towered over him, draping him in deep shadow. The farmhouse and workshop that stood in a clearing before him were dark and silent in the moonlight, yet it seemed from the order in the yard that the residents had only stepped away a moment before.

 Had he timed this right? There had been a certain amount of guesswork involved in pinpointing the exact moment in question, even though he was in possession of enough of the key details to enable a defined target. A stealthy movement at the edge of the clearing caught his eye, and he saw two slight figures, one a little larger than the other, emerge from the shadows and race across the yard to the house. Yes, this was what he had hoped to see. He stood beneath his tree and waited for the figures to re-emerge.

 There was the glow of a spark and then the steady dim light of a candle flame shone through the front windows. It only lasted a few minutes, just long enough for the children to locate what they sought in the darkness of the abandoned homestead. The flame vanished, and Khadgar kept his eyes on the door. It opened soundlessly and the taller figure, who Khadgar knew to be a boy of fifteen, stepped out carrying a long narrow object. The moonlight glinted off the hilt of a sword. The smaller figure, though still tall for her twelve years, followed her brother out and closed the door behind her. She clutched something to her chest.

 The boy pointed off towards the woods in the direction they had come. Together they began to move that way, but as they reached the gate that stood open to the western forest, the boy paused and looked around. Khadgar heard muffled hoofbeats behind him and turned to see two mounted men approaching the stead from the south, keeping to the grassy verge of the road to stay quiet in the still night air.

 "Over here!" the boy cried out and waved his arm at the horsemen. The girl stopped like a startled deer, halfway to the shelter of the trees. As the riders passed Khadgar's vantage point, they picked up speed. Their dark leather armor and face masks hid their identities but the daggers they carried revealed their purpose. One of the riders went for the boy with the sword, reaching down and hauling him up onto the horse. The other pulled out something dark and apparently heavy from beneath his cloak and swung it at the girl as he swept by. Khadgar could hear the sickening thud as it made contact with her skull and she flew backwards to land in a twisted heap. He felt his heart wrench inside him, though he knew the outcome of this night would not be as tragic as it appeared.

 The dark riders vanished into the forest behind the buildings and the clearing fell silent and still once more. The shade that was Khadgar's vision form ran over to where twelve-year-old Kinsale lay in the frozen grass, and knelt at her side. Yes, her chest was still moving and the warmth of her breath was still just visible in the cold air. Her grandfather's libram, his holy prayer book, had fallen from her as she was knocked back, but her arm had been flung in that direction as well, and her fingertips just rested upon its edge. As he watched, a subdued glimmer appeared at that point of contact. For a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks, that the moonlight was reflecting off the tooled and embossed cover of the tome. The light gathered strength, though, and soon the entire libram was aglow, and then the slender arm of the girl. Then her entire body was wrapped in the warmth of holy light, and a narrow but radiant pillar rose up from her into the sky above.

 Even as one who had spent years in the company of the na'aru, Khadgar felt awe at the power of the blessing he was witnessing. Then, in the reverse of how the vision had begun, the world began to disintegrate around him and he was back in his own time, in his private workroom in Dalaran. The image of the girl in the pillar of light remained burned in his mind.

 He had gotten the answers he'd wanted, which almost surprised him. His skill at targeting intentional visions had improved immensely over the years, but it was still an unpredictable process, and it was never certain that even seeing what he wanted to see would give him the information he needed. He sat down at his work table and closed his eyes, going over the scene one more time to be sure he hadn't missed any detail. Then he raised his hand and sent a finding spell to retrieve a record from his bookshelves. It wasn't even a minute before the tome he needed slid off the shelf and landed in his hand.

 Khadgar's eyes opened, the blue of his irises intensely bright as he began thumbing through the pages of      A History Of The Syndicate, As Reported By One Who Was There In The Beginning    . In his mind he could hear Kinsale's voice as he remembered the conversation that had started him on this quest for knowledge.

     "I miss my grandfather the most, the knight who became a healer, even though I was very small when he died," she said. "That's why we went back for his things, my brother and I...at least, that was my reason. Sometimes I'm not so sure about my brother."  

     "What do you mean? Why not?"  

     Kinsale replied, "Sometimes I have this dream, and it's that night. I remember feeling very cold except where I was carrying Grandfather's libram. And I hear my brother call out, 'Over here!' so I turn to run to him and then something hits me. That's when I wake up, every time." She paused. "But a few years ago, I thought, what if it wasn't me he was calling to? He had wanted Grandfather's sword so badly and I never understood why. And he'd been so angry since our father had rebelled against Perenolde and been executed for it. I just wonder... Was he running away?"  

 She had looked away, but Khadgar had seen the tears forming in her eyes. He'd heard the unspoken question. If her brother had left her intentionally, why had he left her for dead?

 His eyes caught the name he was watching for as he scanned the pages of the history: Andrik, recruited to the "cause" as a boy, not long after the founding of the organization. He only seemed to be mentioned at all because of the fine sword he had brought with him, a sword that had belonged to a knight of Lordaeron. Interestingly enough, the name of the knight had been recorded as well: Tursten of Tirisfal.

 Khadgar reached for a fresh leaf of the inexpensive and quickly-produced paper that he had shipped into Dalaran by the boatload from Pandaria, and rapidly filled it with notes on references and ideas for further research. He wished he didn't have to break away just now, but he was due at a meeting with Archmage Senach and the Tirisgarde regarding a crucial investigation, so he could not be late. He slid the sheet of notes into the history of the Syndicate and closed the cover, resolving to return to it as soon as he was able.

 ***

 As night descended upon Suramar, and the lamps and lanterns of the city began to glow, Kinsale slipped into a tiny confectioner's shop tucked away in a narrow alley. She nodded at the proprietor and climbed the stairs to the loft above. It was a only a matter of minutes before her Dusk Lily contact joined her.

 In a low voice, he gave her the instructions he had been sent to give her regarding her mission. "There is a round building at the very southeastern tip of Evermoon Terrace. At the base of it, you will find a translocation pad that will transport you to the top floor. You will receive more detailed information there."

 Kinsale nodded at the elf. "I know the area. I will find it. Thank you."

 "And take care," he cautioned. "The patrols are numerous tonight." He waited as she left the building, making sure no attention was drawn to the shop for the sake of the proprietor.

 Kinsale carefully threaded her way through the district, alert for the vigilant guards who would see through the illusion that disguised her as one of the common folk of Suramar. They did not take kindly to outlanders wandering their streets, especially since the grip of the Legion had taken hold. It was a strong enough spell to ensure her safe passage among those who did not look too closely, and she did not fear for her safety in most of the western part of the city. Still, she was cautious enough to prefer darkness to illumination and to put market stalls or shrubbery between her and patrolling guards whenever possible.

 At last, the short round tower she sought came into view, the translocation pad in front just visible by its blue glow against the stone paving. Two elite guards stood nearby, animatedly discussing something that Kinsale could not hear. The minutes ticked by as she waited just around the corner of the building on the north side of the small plaza, a conical cypress tree casting its protective shadow over her. She considered her target and the obstacles before her. She could just walk purposefully over to the translocation pad and hope that the guards didn't notice or didn't find her to be unusual in any way, but the plaza was well lit, and she didn't want to risk the safety of the house or the people inside by drawing too much attention or causing suspicion. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she waited, frustrated by her lack of options.

 After another few minutes, the guards appeared to reach some sort of agreement, and moved away in separate directions. Kinsale held her breath as one approached her location but then passed her by at a safe distance, without a glance in her direction. When she judged they were both at last far enough away, she made for the translocator and teleported up into the building to find Silgryn waiting for her.

 He set aside the parchment he had been reading, and turned to greet her. "Good evening to you, Highlord," he said. "I have some news from our friends outside the city. Your presence is requested there -- Thalyssra herself has an important mission for you." Silgryn shifted a decorative screen to reveal a channeled portal and the device that was maintaining it. "And Oculeth has provided for your transportation."

 "Thank you, Silgryn," said Kinsale. "Light go with you always." Silgryn nodded in acknowledgement, and she stepped through the portal to find herself in the underground refuge of Shal'Aran.

finish the story at http://archiveofourown.org/works/9674912

#Khadgar #Khadgar/OC #Kinsale #Suramar #Warcraft #adventure! #espionage! #Khadgar taking risks and making assumptions as he is wont to do #he's so cuddly though #nobody dies but it's a near thing and brings up some interesting complications #excerpt from Amplification

[the-goat-writer-blog]

Short Story for Y2 University Assessment (2015)

Quiet the Fury

 Raging winds rattled the plastic windows of the bar. A thick cloud of writhing smoke coiled like starliner trails over the crowded tables, dimming the already poor glow of the single light dangling above, and shrouding the denizens in gloom. On a stool at the farthest corner of the bar, a stranger observed the den with scouring eyes. His face was stern and unchanging, and he sat far removed from the grumbling, cackling mass. The stranger answered to ‘Flynn’, though none this side of the Valhalla Constellation knew the name.

They had to be here, Flynn thought, his frustration rising. He gave up searching the faces of the rabble and turned to his drink. The liquid was dark and sloshed around as though living. In the black water he thought he saw a shape. A face, maybe. Her face.

‘Where’ve you been?’ called a gravelly voice from somewhere amidst the sea of bodies. ‘The boys have been waiting hours for you.’

Flynn turned his attention to the newcomer. A man who resembled a paintbrush dipped in grease waddled in from the doorway. Lengthy wires of black gleamed grotesquely atop his head, and his filthy miner’s uniform hung slack from his gangly figure. Flynn noted the familiar insignia.

After violently forcing his way through the crowd, he reached a table near the back of the bar, at which he tiredly greeted three other men.

‘Got caught up in transfer.’ The greasy man replied through heavy breaths.

‘Newark giving you a hard time?’ said the gravelly voiced man. The greasy man took his seat at the table and threw a gesture for a drink toward the barman.

‘Nah. We’ve had a bunch of run-ins with outsiders in the Ferrelian-side.’

‘Outsiders? This far from the tourist systems?’

‘Yeah, I know. Looked odd to us too. That’s why we had to document it. Make sure we told high up about it before I got it in the neck.’ He paused, taking a moment to look over his shoulder. ‘Mind you… we heard some weird chatter off the comms when we got close to a couple of them.’

‘Weird how, Alfie?’ asked the youngest man at the table.

‘Just… weird. Like, all sorts of crap about the Fury, and some of them were babbling about ships going dark close to-’

‘What’s the Fewy?’ said the younger one, mimicking Alfie’s inflection.

‘The Fury, you fool,’ barked the gravelly voiced man. ‘You never heard that story before, kid? It’s a legend out there.’

‘Aye, and nothin’ but!’ spat another, older man. His eyes were hidden behind scraggy, grey hair, and a thick beard entirely engulfed the lower half of his face. ‘I’ve been minin’ jet on an’ off for fifty-seven years and I’ve never seen nothin’ like it.’

‘But Geoff, the galaxy’s a big, freaky place, you can’t be sure-’

‘I’m sure of one thing, pal. There isn’t nothin’ out there but black sky.’ Geoff took a long drink. ‘cept us o’ course,’ he said, laughing.

‘What is it though, Geoff?’ asked the younger one.

‘The Fury? They say it’s a shadow, Ian. A… creature – unkillable, unstoppable – come from far away to…’ Geoff trailed off, hesitating. ‘…to right the wrongs of bad men. And only when those wrongs are punished can you truly quiet the Fury.’

It was then a foreboding silence fell over the table. The men avoided each other’s eyes and took cleansing drinks.

Flynn recognised the names. These were the men he’d been struggling to find for so long. His eyes still on his drink, he bent his ear closer to the faraway table.

‘Anyway, Ronan, what’s this all about? I’m always up for a pint but couldn’t this wait til we’d at least dropped our slacks off at the Rig?’ Alfie said, giving a slight nod to his colleague’s uniforms.

‘No,’ said the gravelly voiced man Flynn now recognised as Ronan. ‘This couldn’t wait.’

Ronan paused to spit tobacco into his empty tankard. ‘We need to move on, fellas. We’ve been here too long.’

The table cried out in disagreement but was quickly hushed by Ronan’s cold stare. ‘I got a tip off this morning. He’s here.’

‘Who?’

‘Him, you dumbass. The one who’s the reason we’re all the way out here in this fucking hole. The one who’s girl we did in.’

‘Oh.’ The men shifted uncomfortably in their seats; eyes darting from one man to the next.

‘So what are we gonna do about it?’ Ian said, fidgeting with the straps on his belt.

‘You’re going to pay.’

‘Holy shit!’ Alfie yelled, jumping up from his stool and stumbling back. Flynn stood calmly before them.

‘Where the hell did you come from?’ asked Alfie, a moment of fear passing through him. ‘We ran from Hugon to Valhalla after… after that!’

‘You should have run faster.’

BOOM.

The room quaked. A violent burst of clean white smoke erupted from the floor. Seconds later and the white had utterly obscured Flynn’s prey from him. He could only faintly hear Ronan’s orders through the uproar of the panicking crowd, though it was enough to give him a direction. Ronan had no doubt triggered the smoke. It wouldn’t be enough, Flynn thought. His ungodly rage peaked.

  Flynn stumbled out of the thick cloud, waving his arms before him as he went. It was only a short time before he came bursting from the bar and onto the platform outside.

The platform was vast and round on endlessly tall stilts; a rudimentary design which kept the mining colony safely above the uninhabitable planet surface. This one: a docking platform, was one of many in the vicinity, most visible from where Flynn stood. A thousand glimmering discs stretching into the horizon.

‘Ian, grab a rifle!’ shouted a familiar voice from across the platform.

The band of criminals Flynn had pursued from the bar were now just a stretch ahead of him, taking cover behind mineral containers.

‘Fire!’ bellowed Ronan. Flynn dived for cover behind a refuelling station.

A dozen blasts and flares came from the group. Bullets struck the metal at his back and pummelled his spine. Beams of burning hot light too came whirring overhead and left a strong smell of ash.

Ronan took point, charging a much larger laser toward the refuelling station. Flynn spotted this and made a hasty leap toward the next available cover; the repulsor side of the platform’s shipping gate.

The heavy laser collided with the shipping gate, blasting the electronics apart.

‘I’ll cover you, get to the ship!’ Ronan yelled between firing rapid bursts of light.

The three men took their command and hopped down to the level below and filed speedily into the waiting cargo vessel. Not a ship designed for a speedy getaway, Flynn thanked his good fortune.

The gunfire stopped.

‘Ah! Dry…’ Ronan cursed, throwing the heavy laser to the concrete. Flynn cautiously peered over the smashed shipping gate. Sure enough, the laser lay deserted across from him and Ronan was nowhere to be seen. Not for long however.

A sound like grinding rock swept up from the lower platform. A moment later, the cargo ship rushed into view. Rising. Escaping.

Angrily Flynn looked around for a weapon; something to bring the bird down. The laser was no good, dry of fuel cells, and the men had taken their rifles with them. Damnit! There’s really nothing here! Flynn thought.

Wait. Thinking fast, he dove his hands into the sparking electronic mess of the shipping gate. A few agonising burns later, he tore from the machinery a long thin pole with a cross-like cut which ran the length of the cylinder. He ripped a few dangling wires from the device and ran to the edge of the platform. Come on… let this work.

‘What is that, a weapon? Shit,’ said Geoff fearfully from the still open back of the ship. ‘Take him out, Alfie, quick!’

Alfie begrudgingly dropped to one knee and reloaded. The sway of the ship made it difficult to judge but it was nothing new to him. He raised the rifle.

Flynn turned the metal casing on one end of the device which suddenly burst open along the cross seams, spreading a thin foil from each pole quarter to the next, revealing the repulsor inner-workings. He pointed the repulsor toward the ship.

Come on… do it.

Alfie took aim.

Flynn charged the repulsor. It read out 80% on a tiny LCD...

The ship began to turn toward the horizon. 85%

Alfie’s finger gingerly stroked the trigger. 93%

BZZZT. The laser cut through the air clean and darted toward Flynn. 99%

BZ-ACK!

The laser caught the repulsor field. In a split-second the blast rebounded and, now returning, sliced straight through the fleeing ship.

The ship jerked. Red hot dust erupted like dragon fire from the exhaust ports and the engines shot out of their casings. The fuel line, torn, spewed molten jetolean in a pirouette before igniting entirely.

‘Error 21. Fuel lines compromised. Exit the-’ the on-board computer began but was cut short.

The port side of the ship exploded and ripped clean the above wing from the hull. Loose bolts pattered the platform below as the ship let out a single mechanical whine and began to plummet, twisting and spinning fiercely. The crew held tightly to whatever they could as the dials spiralled and the docking platform flipped about their heads.

‘Error 1. Systems critical. Exit the vehicle immediately.’ Ronan yelped as the flames reached the cockpit. In terror he slammed EJECT.

‘Impact in five seconds.’ The crew screamed as the ship fell.

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

The ship collided with the platform. The hull was crushed upon impact. Instantly, a flaming ball of black smoke and sparks engulfed the wreckage. Flynn, however, was not watching. His eyes had been following Ronan, who had deployed his parachute over the platforms below. Flynn leapt over the railing and dived into the wreckage. He returned dragging out three scorched rifles and a pistol. Checking their functionality, Flynn was relieved to find one of the rifles had survived.

Taking aim, Flynn held his breath. The heavy thump of his heart rocked him. He accounted. The harsh winds ran across the shot. He adjusted. The heat of his breath steamed the glass. But he did not need it.

BANG. The bullet tagged the parachute at over a hundred yards, tearing the fabric to shreds. Ronan let out a great gasp before dropping. Falling fast, he slammed hard into the glass roof of a building below. Shattering the glass and continuing the fall straight through. A great thud echoed back up the platforms toward Flynn.

It wasn’t over, he thought. He had to make sure. Taking only the pistol, Flynn set off.

  Flynn slowly pushed the door open, and taking a step inside, he surveyed the room.

It was a small round office, possibly six metres across. The walls were clean white and littered with picture frames, eyes which followed him as he strode in further. The skylight, which was round and domed, stretched across almost the entire room – and now shattered, whistled with the rushing gale above. A calming melody, Flynn thought.

‘Stop!’ cried a terrified voice. Ronan stood, on crooked legs, blooded and torn, in the middle of the room. His pistol aimed at Flynn. Flynn raised his gun to match.

They stood for a long while, guns poised to fire, each man determined, and the room silent save for the winds overhead. Finally after an eternity of motionless standoff, Flynn broke the quiet.

‘So, any last words?’

‘I never meant for it- I never meant for her to-’ Ronan spluttered.

‘Don’t lie to me!’ Flynn warned, his rage spiking. His arm steady, he took a step forward. ‘You saw an easy payday! Kill the girl and get away free!’

The current above had sped to an almighty roar and the once soft whistling had progressed into a demonic howl. Fragments of glass which had remained now came crashing down like hail.

‘Don’t come any closer!’ Ronan yelled, blinking furiously to maintain aim; the sweat running from his forehead blinding his eyes. Flynn ignored the cry and took another step. ‘Don-’

BANG.

As though time had slowed, the pair watched as the muzzle flashed. Ronan felt the gun lurch as the round broke free and carved its path toward Flynn. It left white scars in the air between them as it soared, and upon impact, shattered; the fragments of bleeding hot metal ricocheting into organs and cracking bone. Dark red trails were ejected with speed from the entry wound and painted the floor.

Flynn stood immobile. His hand did not shake. Then he smiled.

Ronan dropped his pistol; staring disbelievingly into the face of the man before him. The undying. The indestructible. And he thought for a moment on the rage he’d inspired. The wrath. The Fury.

‘I should’ve seen… I should’ve known.’

Flynn laughed.

‘You should’ve run faster.’     BANG.

Ronan’s wide-eyed stare was punctuated by his final sputtering breath. He then slumped forward and fell flat to the soaked scarlet floor. Dead.

(The first work I submitted for a University assignment. Written in one night after I lost faith in my two other attempts. I remember I didn’t do as well as I’d hoped and I can see why, there’s a lot wrong here. Personally I dislike the heavily action-oriented midsection most. It wastes precious space wherein I could have furthered the plot. I think the lack of answered questions may have contributed to the poor reception but its likely this is my fault for not stressing the importance in not knowing... My current project is quite an intentionally ambiguous piece though, so maybe I’m biased.)

#creative writing #writing #writing portfolio #mywriting #text #prose #short story #quiet the fury #2015 #university #english #assignment #assessment #aspiring author

[theplagueraven]

Story/info under the cut! Tried combining traditional and digital. TWAS FUN.

The nights were growing colder. The leaves had fallen, allowing bright, stark moonlight to glare through the scraggy branches in twisted, haunting shadows that shifted in the scarce breeze, hardly more than a breath. On nights like these, it was easy to believe that there were things from a world outside your own. It was this very night that Nyx ventured out into this cold, eerie realm taking a deep breath in through her nose, wincing when the chill stung. She wandered away from the cozy warmth of her little cabin, embracing the brisk air that crept across her skin, glad that it roused her the rest of the way from sleep. She wanted to do this at the dead of night, when the forest was a little more quiet, and the darkness would blind her eyes and reduce distraction. She sat down in the middle of the clearing, closing her eyes and putting her hands together in an meditative stance. She drew upon the magic in her being, feeling the quiet world around her amplify. The night was cold, but it was not silent. Winter was coming, but had not yet arrived, and creatures of the night scurried to and fro preparing for the snows. The tiny pitter-patter of a rodent's feet. The heavier but graceful pawsteps of a predator. The stirring of the air from a creature's wings, the subtle creaking of a tree's trunk in the wind.   Nyx heard next to nothing, but felt what seemed like everything. She stayed for quite some time drinking in this uncanny, mysterious dimension that hinted at being outside the one she usually occupied, until the vibrations from her own shivering blinded her vision. Letting out a heavy breath and releasing the magic, Nyx opened her eyes, the other realm fading with the soft green glow of her eyes. Looking around, she tried to identify where the vibrations she had picked up had come from, try to tie together the two worlds she had experienced, but though her night vision was good, she couldn't pick out much. She smiled. The magic had allowed her to 'see' what her eyes failed to. She would have to do this again. Who knows how much more could be learned from this other world made of vibrations? GUYS. GUYS. I DID A BACKGROUND. THAT I'M LIKE... OKAY WITH??? HOLY SNICKERDOODLES. I went into this with an attitude of "Just do it. Just go with the flow. Have fun, don't mind mistakes, work with them. Enjoy it. This doesn't even have to be for independent magic, this is just an attempt to DO SOMETHING rather than sit and stare at a blank page in terror. If it turns out good, then you can use it for magic." And it seemed to work! I just grabbed a big fat paintbrush, slapped down some water, dipped some ink into the water here and there to let it spread and feather, then let it dry. Then I stared at the light/dark areas that formed, and found a scene within it, layering it darker and darker until the scene came forward. Like, the tiny stream for example. I didn't even consider there being running water by Nyx's little shack/cottage, but there was just this perfect light spot going in a line across the foreground that I was like "that looks like a tiny brook." so I went with it. Same with the cabin. The ink blots told me what the scene was, and I just helped it come forward. It was super duper loose with tons of mistakes and lots of learning, but in the end, BECAUSE I was so loose and easygoing with it (forgiving myself of perceived  mistakes and taking some of Bob Ross's advice of "There are no mistakes, just happy little accidents" or something along those lines), I don't notice the "mistakes" as much, and I feel like they kind of add to the character of the picture. It makes me happy, and actually inspires me to try more, rather than getting scared! Which feels SUPER awesome, lemme tell ya My original plan was to put bits of color in it after the black ink had dried (I used water proof ink for this exact reason), but then it just looked so nice in greyscale, I didn't have the heart to attempt to ruin it with either traditional adding on of ink/digital color. It was going to be a night scene from the beginning, so I called upon this one fun fact about human eyes that I for some reason LOVE: that we see in black and white in the dark (our color receptors don't work in low light), and so I decided to go with that sort of idea and just keep it in greyscale as a little nod to how fascinating our eyes are! Makes me happy.   Nyx was added in digitally after, since I didn't have the tools and/or know-how to paint her into the original thing nicely/cleanly. I gave her a bit of color to make her the focus of the image, since all this of course boils down to her trying to sense the forest's night life through magically amplified vibrations. In addition, a tiny piece of this that came to mind after the fact is that Etae's gro Benoit (more info on his relationship with Nyx later) sees in mostly black and white himself, but some brighter colors (like Nyx's blinding purple and green) may stand out a bit more in comparison to duller late Autumn colors. And I know he's been keeping an eye on her, since she's invaded his home and all. So this could very well be what he's seeing (though maybe a bit too much color?), if he happened to be there. Totally not what I went into this drawing thinking, but in hindsight is a headcanon I enjoy. Background done with Deleter Black 4 ink (with a big wide brush and a small round brush, and various water dilutions) on multimedia paper, and Nyx and other touch-ups done digitally on Sai.

#Wyngro #digital #art #OC #traditional #OC: Nyx