the tale of the night shift


Welcome to my home.  You were very kind to help me.  You must be tired.

Okay so I’ve been fleshing out this spooky oni Hanzo + monster hunter McCree au in which Hanzo seduces his unwitting victims into the ruins of his estate on the fringes of Hanamura where he consumes them for sustenance.  McCree’s a huge supernatural nerd who’s been chasing monsters all over the world but always comes away disappointed because they end up being not much more than folk tales or a weird dog someone thought looked like the chupacabra in the dark, but while in Japan he hears rumors of this tiny village with a big missing-person problem, an elusive figure in white, and a place deep in the woods where reality starts to shift.  So of course he goes to investigate while not expecting to find much by this point, but on his way back from the bar on his first night in town, he sees a kind of weird but very attractive man in white silk standing on the side of the road.  He looks like he’s waiting patiently for someone.  McCree’s sure now that either people are just hyping up the local oddball for fun or he’s a flesh-and-blood serial killer so he tentatively humors Hanzo “I’m night-blind” Shimada’s plea to escort him home.  DUN DUN DUN

The first panel is a screencap redraw of Kaneto Shindo’s Kuroneko, which I basically stole the entire setup from because it’s a beautiful ghost story and you should watch it.

There’s a sequel

Audio Drama Podcasts

Just a list.

Caught up on-

Welcome to Night Vale
EOS 10
Wolf 359
The Bright Sessions
Kakos Industries
The Black Tapes
Alice Isn’t Dead
Ars Paradoxica
Our Fair City
King Falls AM
The Meat Blockade
Big Data
The Infinite Now
Return Home
The Bridge
Hadron Gospel Hour
The Bunker
Wooden Overcoats
The Elysium Project
Jim Robbie and the Wanderers
Archive 81
Second Shift
It’s About Time
The Penumbra Podcast
The Orbiting Human Circus (Of The Air)
The Strange Case Of Starship Iris
Rover Red
The Message/LifeAfter
Testing Connection
A New Winter
Within the Wires
Diary of a Madman
Hector vs the Future
Alba Salix
Escape Pod

Not caught up-

Thrilling Adventure Hour
Greater Boston
We’re Alive
Hello From the Magic Tavern
Neon Nights: The Arcane Files of Jack Tracer
The Hidden Almanac

To listen-

Transmissions from Colony One
Lesser Gods
Point Mystic
The Orphans
Roswell B.C. (Before the Crash)
Radio People
The Leviathan Chronicles
Metamor City
Rude Alchemy
The Lift
Fall of the House of Sunshine
The Haven Chronicles
Darkest Night
The Box Podcast
Black List Table Reads
The Adventures of MechaBetty
Lake Clarity
Athiest Apocalypse
Subject: Found
The Magnus Archives
The Adventure Zone
Cabin Fever
Manor House
The Behemoth
Erie Canal Theatre
Radiation World
Edict Zero
Help Me

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

Enter the players. There were seven of us then, seven bright young things with wide precious futures ahead of us. Until that year, we saw no further than the books in front of our faces.

On the day Oliver Marks is released from jail, the man who put him there is waiting at the door. Detective Colborne wants to know the truth, and after ten years, Oliver is finally ready to tell it.

Ten years ago: Oliver is one of seven young Shakespearean actors at Dellecher Classical Conservatory, a place of keen ambition and fierce competition. In this secluded world of firelight and leather-bound books, Oliver and his friends play the same roles onstage and off: hero, villain, tyrant, temptress, ingénue, extra. But in their fourth and final year, the balance of power begins to shift, good-natured rivalries turn ugly, and on opening night real violence invades the students’ world of make believe. In the morning, the fourth-years find themselves facing their very own tragedy, and their greatest acting challenge yet: convincing the police, each other, and themselves that they are innocent.

Part coming-of-age story, part confession, If We Were Villains explores the magical and dangerous boundary between art and life. In this tale of loyalty and betrayal, madness and ecstasy, the players must choose what roles to play before the curtain falls.

I’ve been following the publishing journey of @m-l-rio for a few years now and I am so excited to have a copy of her book in my hands. Her sharp wit, hilarious bookstore and theater stories, and unflinchingly honest nature is bound to translate into a highly engaging, intelligent debut. 

If We Were Villains has been likened to The Secret History by Donna Tartt, and I’m dropping every other book I’ve planned to read so I can start it. 

You can get your copy from your bookstore on April 11th, 2017, but for now, add it to goodreads.

Newcomers Pt 16

It was dark, all fires and lights had been forbidden after the fall of Geeda and an evacuation order had gone out but the enemy had been spotted not five miles from their town. A small group of militia volunteers had agreed to stand and fight to defend their homes and at least slow the enemy down. But there had been no sign of them since that message had come, no thunder that was said to precede their arrival brought on by their tower sized machines. No sounds of their tracked vehicles that fired shells that shred their war trucks apart.

Ceten had agreed to volunteer because his father had pushed him into it calling him a coward because he wanted to go with his mother. By Human standards he was only 14 maybe 15 years old but to the Benemar was well past childhood. He had never liked fighting, being the runt of the littler meant he was the smallest and all his brothers and his two sisters had done their father proud and joined the warrior caste. He wanted to be a farmer, to see fields of purple once more flow to the horizon like it said in his books. Those he had had to beg or steal as his father often said reading was for breeders not warriors and had beaten him several times when he found him with a book under his bed. Right now, his father was beside him holding a rifle perched on some hastily constructed barricades made out of cars and furniture. All his siblings were dead, they fell in Geeda and he saw how his father had looked at their portraits and beamed with pride saying they had died honourably and brought great glory even in death. He had then promptly struck Ceten, calling him a failure before retiring for the night. Now his only living child stood shoulder to shoulder with him to avenge their fallen and kill as many of these Humans and Gal as possible. Many stories had reached them long before the fall of Geeda, tales of how the Humans shape shifted and could punch threw iron walls as easily as one may tear through paper.

Small lights shun behind them so that those who’s jobs it was the reload rifles and fire home made mortars could see what they were doing but it was only just enough to see. Beyond the barricade Ceten could barley see his hand in front of his face, he looked up wishing things were like they were in his books. Clear skies that shun with the light of the moon at night and burned with the heat of the sun, and stars, oh how he wanted to see stars. To find the constellations old Benemar used to sail the oceans and navigate at night before the compass.

Whispers were the only audible noise that he heard other than the breathing of his father and beating of his own heart. His father then turned to him and glared at him.

“Be ready son, a flare is about to go up”

“Yes father” he whispered before passing the message to the warrior to his right. Besides everything he was happy, his father had called him son, he had not done that for a very long time. He steadied his rifle and knew that the Humans must be out there, the flare went up and indeed, they were.

Ceten’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped, the Humans were standing only five feet from the barricade in complete silence. It was not just a few either, they stood shoulder to shoulder glaring at him and there must have been thousands of them. How long had they been there? Why had they waited for the flare? Such thoughts left him as the Human in front of him grabbed his rifle with a speed he could not follow struck him. The last he remembered were the shouts and cries of his townsmen as the Humans leaped over the barricade and began their work. Then everything went black.

He awoke some hours later, he knew because it was day and from the height of the sun it was coming to near midday. He had fallen under the barricade and lost conciseness from hitting his head. Grunting as he rose he put his hand to the back of his head and felt for a wound, there was none and he was thankful. Movement above him made him freeze, a Gal was walking along the barricade and moving some things. Looking around he saw the remains of his town, much of the buildings had been burned caught up in the fighting and most likely any Benemar they found were slaughtered. The Humans and their Gal allies had made themselves at home, they moved and looked just as terrifying as the books said. He knew all about the last war and the last time the Humans came to Bento Prime. How they devoured their dead and cooked their still living prisoners alive. He had no wish to die that way, he had no wish to die at all but it seemed that that decision may not be his. He would have to stay exactly where he was until the Humans moved on, most likely after they had devoured everything they could and their hunger spurred them on again looking for new hunting grounds. Luckily some debris from the barricade had fallen on him making a kind of cave that he could stay under and if he was careful watch what was happening outside. But for all his fear he was still curious and wanted to learn about these creatures.

For the most part the Humans did not seem to act too different than his own people, they stood around and spoke to each other and their Gal friends. They drank and ate and were generally just going about their business. But he never saw any of their weapons, not a single one was carrying a rifle, he shifted to look out another part of the wrecked barricade hoping to see this towering machines that walked but it was nowhere in sight.

He scoffed to himself disappointed he would not get to see one, his friends would have been so jealous to hear he saw a walking tower machine. Then the thought occurred, what friends? He had only a few and they were all most likely dead now as they were manning the barricade with him.

And his father? His father had been there and called him his son. Tears came and he struggled and fought the urge to cry. “Only breeders cry” he repeated his fathers words. But he couldn’t help it, he loved his father for all his faults.  

“I found a survivor!” sounded a Human above him looking down through the wooden planks and was beginning to shift them. Panic gripped him like a vine and he thrashed and screamed at them to get away and leave him alone, only then did he notice his leg was caught.

“His leg is pinned under the wreckage” the Human called jumping down and other Humans came to help. The barricade that he had fought on was shifted with surprising ease and a Gal tentacle reached in and pulled him free. He screamed as the Humans gathered around him, they were going to tear him apart and eat him he knew it. He cried and thrashed waiting for the moment he felt their teeth on his skin. But it never came, he stopped shouting and slowly calmed down his eyes low and slowly looked at the one Human holding onto his arm, smiling at him.

It was a warm smile meant to comfort him and she showed no sign of aggression, she was not even armoured or armed. He looked around and the other Humans were also smiling at him and the Gal hung back behind them.

“Have you calmed down now?” said the female human who had hold of his arm.

“Um…yes” he said meekly.

Her smiled widened and a small chair was placed behind him and she placed him on it while another Human inspected his injured leg.

“A small cut, nothing broken, you’re a tough one” he said and reached into his bag “This will stop it getting infected” the Human said and sprayed something on his leg that stung a little and was bandaged. Then the Human got up and handed him a small white stick with a ball on the tip that was orange in colour, patted him on the head and left.

He looked at the strange thing the Human had gave him and looked at the others who giggled, the female who sat beside him took it and took off the small wrapping and put the lolly in his mouth. His mouth exploded with the sweet taste and his smile brought one to hers.

“My name is Karen, what’s yours?”

“C-c-…Creten” he whispered the lolly still in his mouth.

“Nice to meet you Creten, are you hungry?”

He nodded and she took his hand and lead him through the Human camp.

He looked around as he was lead past countless Humans who all smiled at him or greeted him warmly, he began to wonder if these were Humans at all, they were nothing like they were supposed to be in his books. The Gal even watched him but showed more a curious interest than an intent to kill.

Then they reached a place where there were more Benemar.

“Farther!” Creten screamed and ran into his fathers embrace, he was horrified to see his father had lost his right arm but he was hugged all the tighter with his left.

“My son” he said as Creten buried his head in his fathers chest tears once more flowing freely.

“Ah perfect timing” Karen said as one of the cooks came pushing a trolley.

“We know you are purely carnivores but we did not want to give you just plain chicken so we made you all chicken soup” he called to the Benemar who all regarded him with a mixture of hatred and suspicion.

Creten moved and went to him and was handed a bowl and poured some and handed a spoon, he turned and ran back to his father and gave it to him. His father looked at it and at his son who had gone back for his own.

Creten sat down in front of his father and began eating this Human food they had been given. None of the Benemar moved and the cook was standing there waiting patiently for the others to decide to move on their own. His son was eating it vigorously, he had not eaten anything like it and was incredibly hungry. Creten’s father looked around, they were not held in a prison, there was not even a fence, there was just a small area next to a tank with some sheets thrown over them to shield them from the sun and wind. There were not even any guards, where these Humans so confident that they did not even guard them. He looked down at the bowl seeing the different colours of the soup as the Human had called it, slowly he took a mouthful and seeing one of their elders eating the others slowly made their way to get their own helping.

Black Sheep

Jared Padalecki x Female Reader

Summary: Imagine being the other woman.

Warnings: NSFW Gif, Vaginal sex and CHEATING. I’ll say it again: cheating. If it bothers you, don’t read it

Reader request. 


It’s the soft click of the bathroom door that wakes you. Cracking an eye you get a glimpse of Jared, naked as a jaybird, making his way back to bed. The clock confirms it’s mid morning, just after ten. The heavy blinds are still closed but sunlight is streaming in through every crack in tiny laser beams that seem to illuminate every spec of floating dust.  

Keep reading


You fall asleep against their shoulder while they are talking to you…


Youjin will be surprised to find you asleep, but once he sees your sleeping form cuddled up against him, he’ll melt into a puddle. You’ll nuzzle into Youjin’s neck, the soft vibrations of his voice rumbling against the bridge of your nose. Youjin holds you to his side, your legs draped over his lap. His heart glows at the closeness of your form and the soft press of your palm against his chest. The gently lull of Youjin’s voice humming against your skin sends you drifting off to sleep. Youjin notices almost immediately that you’ve left this world by the slackness of your fingers and the heaviness of your breath. His lips pull up into a warm smile, his fingers tightening over your waist. It shows a great amount of trust to fall asleep in the arms of someone and Youjin cannot comprehend how you ended up here in his arms. If he didn’t already know he loved you, he certainly would know it now. He presses his lips against the top of your head and whispers “I love you,” before lifting you into his arms and carrying you to bed.


Seungjun will probably coax you awake if you fall asleep while talking with him. He doesn’t like to be alone especially when he’s in the middle of a conversation. You lean your head against his shoulder as Seungjun carries on about some interesting comic he’s found. You really are trying to pay attention, but work went long and as much as you love how passionate Seungjun gets, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer. Seungjun feels your weight get heavier and heavier against his arm, but he doesn’t notice you’ve checked out until a soft snore leaves your lips. He turns to you, his lower lip puffing out into a pout. He doesn’t melt at the sight of your sleeping form or take a moment to remember the shape of your lips or the flutter of your eyes. He already melted over the sight of your sleeping form the first night you spent together and every night there after. He’ll want you awake so he can finish his story and then carry you to bed. Seungjun won’t want to startle you awake, he’ll try to gently ease you back to reality. He’ll start by massaging your hands and if that doesn’t work, he’ll move to tracing the shape of your eyes and nose and then mouth. If you’re zonked out, he’ll eventually give in and let you sleep. If he’s able to wake you, he’ll finish up whatever tale he was in the middle of and then insist on getting you to bed.


Inseong won’t know what to do if you fall asleep on him. During a night in, you’ll end up cuddling on the couch talking about the happenings of the day. Inseong pulls you into his chest and tucks your head under his chin, hands clasping together over your waist. Oblivious to the world, Inseong won’t notice when you fall asleep on him until he shifts to ask you your thoughts on whatever he’s been carrying on about and discovers your eyelids closed and mouth parted gently open. Inseong will freeze up. He won’t know what to do. He’ll worry that he bored you and then he’ll worry about your health. Maybe their not getting enough sleep. Why aren’t they getting enough sleep? A strand of hair falls gently over your eyes, tickling your skin, and your nose twitches, halting the whirlwind of anxiety in Inseong’s heart. A smile lights Inseong’s face and all his worries evaporate as he finally takes note of your sleeping form, cheek smushed against his chest, every limb slack and peaceful. He brushes the lock from your face and presses his lips gently against the top of your head before making himself comfortable, nuzzling his cheek against your head. He’ll hold you until you wake or he finds himself joining you in the land of dreams.


Jihun, impish by nature, is bound to play some sort of prank on you. You rest your head against Jihun’s shoulder, breathing in the fabric softener scent of his sweater. Jihun squeezes you to his side, pressing his lips gently to the edge of your hairline. You’d both had long difficult days and took solace in spending your evenings in silence together, but tonight was different. Jihun was particularly talkative. Some nights he was just like this, where his mouth was nonstop, and as much as you wanted to listen, the smooth timbre of his voice lulled you to sleep. Jihun will notice you’ve fallen asleep pretty quickly and will be disappointed you left him alone in the waking world. He’ll pause a moment to watch you take in slow breath after slow breath before Jihun smiles that devious grin and brushes the hair from your face. He tickles his fingers down your jaw line, watching your face closely. Then, he’ll gently brush his index finger across the tip of your nose. When you twitch in response his smile only grows bigger and he flickers his fingers over your nose again, watching as your face twists. Finally, he gets the desired reaction: you awake, swatting at your nose. He lets out a long hard laugh at the exasperated look you give him. You shove his shoulder, which only makes him laugh more. When you try to get up, he’ll pull you back into his arms and nuzzle his face against your neck murmuring how much he loves you.


While Heejun is rather playful and sarcastic, I see him melting over the sight of you falling asleep on him, but only while you’re asleep. The second you wake up you bet he’s going to tease you about it. You rest your cheek against Heejun’s shoulder, his head falling to rest against the top of your head. You’d just finished up dinner and were enjoying simply being in each other’s presence. Heejun takes your hand in his own, caressing the side of your thumb with his own. The quiet of the room billows out around you when Heejun starts humming softly, his voice vibrating against your skin. You squeeze his hand as your eyes fall shut, taking in the soft gravel of his voice. You get so comfortable you drift off. Heejun will notice you’re asleep the second your hand goes slack against his. He’ll pull back to gaze at your sleeping form, your cheek smushed against his shoulder, mouth parted gently open, eyelashes casting shadows across your cheekbones. A small smile lights his face and he has to resist the urge to trace the slope of your nose and the curve of your jaw. When he noticed you’d fallen asleep, his singing stopped and the lack of sound causes you to stir from your slumber. When your eyes open, Heejun flashes a crooked smile and you duck your head into his chest, mumbling a soft “Sorry”. Heejun’s chest rumbles with a light laugh, “Get bored with me?” You gently slap his shoulder, “Yes, very. Your singing is so boring it rendered me unconscious.” Heejun smiles, “Well in that case,” and then he begins belting out the most obnoxious version of the original score of Knock you’ve ever heard.

Two Sentence Horror Stories

“I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, “Daddy check for monsters under my bed.” I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, “Daddy there’s somebody on my bed.”

“I can’t move, breathe, speak or hear and it’s so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.”

“Don’t be scared of the monsters, just look for them. Look to your left, to your right, under your bed, behind your dresser, in your closet but never look up, she hates being seen.”

“I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.”

“She wondered why she was casting two shadows. After all, there was only a single light bulb.”

“There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping. I live alone.”

“I just saw my reflection blink.”

“Working the night shift alone tonight. There is a face in the cellar staring at the security camera.”

“After working a hard day I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn’t know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.”

“The longer I wore it the more it grew on me. She had such pretty skin.”

The one below is written by myself.

“I went downstairs to get a snack late last night. My dog’s tail always thuds the couch in sleepy excitement, but I took her to the overnight vet a few hours ago.”

romeo and juliet: aesthetics
  • romeo: a disassembled jigsaw, bright pieces spread colourfully over a green blanket; lipstick marks from a good friend's mouth on one's cheek and brow; the heat of your own flushed cheeks; streaks of strawberry sauce in a banana milkshake, bright pink cutting through the yellow; a drop of sugar, sweet on the tongue and not yet dissolved into a sloppily made builder's tea; warm hands sliding under someone else's shirt; laughter heard on the wind, warm despite the chill of the breeze; the snag of his woollen scarf on her coat button in the midst of a kiss, followed by giggles and awkward shuffling; soft gasps in the dead of night; whimsical tales bound in high-brow black leather.
  • juliet: a white dress laid on a newly made bed; fresh-picked lavender and heather in a vase upon the sill, reflecting lilac against the windowpane; the warmth of a new fireplace; the scent of a summer breeze; a piano heard in the next room, fingers smooth against the clean keys; a series of cloth-bound books in every hue, clean of dust and shelved colourfully along the wall; drops of blue and pink dye into cake mix, showing swirls of colour in thick white with each shift of the spoon; baked biscuits, pressed flowers, the texture of parchment and the satisfying, smooth roll of a new pen over a blank page.
  • benvolio: the sensation of sliding into a hot bath after a long day; soft sighs into cups of steaming cocoa; shared smiles in the dark, laughter muffled by someone else's shoulder; the smell of old books and baking bread, clinging to a broad-shouldered jacket; a grip slightly too tight on your wrist, firm but not sadistic; a thick, red blanket laid over the back of a comfortable chair; gold braid in places gold braid doesn't need to be; a proffered piece of sweet chocolate that melts on the fingertips.
  • mercutio: glitter smeared on someone else's bedroom door; loud laughter heard just over a song's bass line; an affectionate hand sliding over a good friend's shoulders; freshly cooked lamb laid to rest on the kitchen side; bruises and scuffs that ache on the knees; a white shirt cut so low it might as well be an open vest; a stack of CDs and dog-eared books on a bedside table; an unmade bed with three people sleeping in a row, the cat laid over three feet and purring; a hot shower after coming in from the pouring rain; wide grins shared over good beer.
  • tybalt: the drag of eyeliner over sensitive skin; a bed made tightly with black shining sheets and a half-dozen pillows stacked neatly at its head; a bloody fingerprint on the spine of a well-loved book; the metallic hiss of a blade through the hair; dead flowers tied with ribbon in an antique vase; new shoes settled on a chair awaiting polish; a wardrobe full of crisply ironed, clean shirts; black hair, long and sleek and tied back at the neck; an empty photograph frame hung on a plain wall; a red ribbon curled around the stem of a champagne flute.
I Won’t Let Him

Request: Hi! I have a request for a bellamy image: the reader & bell are secretly in love but reader has a bf who abuses her but she is too afraid to break up with him or tell anyone. when it is rly hot in camp and she has to work on the wall everyone tells her to take her jacket off but she doesnt want sb to see her bruises. later she collapses bc of the heat & when she wakes up bell is with her & asks her out about her bruises. fluffy ending & bells point of view pls when he sees the bruises. thx! 💕

Requested by: anonymous,

Pairing: Bellamy x Reader

Warnings: abusive relationship. 

Originally posted by fyeahbellarke

“Y/N don’t be silly, take off your jacket.”

The idea was tempting, more than tempting. It was reasonable. It wa smart. But if you took off your jacket then everyone would see the secret you worked so hard to hide. How would you explain to everyone, your friends, about the bruises that littered your arms and left nothing to imagination? “I’m good,” you respond. Waving your hand towards Monroe with a reassuring smile, you turned back to the pieces of scrap metal that you still had to build onto the wall.

Monroe didn’t give up though, instead she continued to stare at you in concern. Her brow furrowed in concern as she didn’t let your excuses be believed. She set her hand on your shoulder, stopping you no matter how hard you tried to ignore her pestering. It’s not that it annoyed you, on the contrary it actually made your heart well that she cared this much. But you couldn’t let her see the bruises and marks that marred your skin, no matter what. It wasn’t just the fact that you didn’t want them questioning, there was a lump in your throat and fear lodged your mouth shut from telling and pleading for help to everyone because of how you’d gotten the abuses.

If your boyfriend ever found out that you’d been going around camp telling the tales that happened late at night, he’d kill you or worse, he’d beat on you worse than ever before. It happened almost every night. Whether you did something to anger him or you did nothing wrong. You’d wait on your guys make-shift bed and he’d stumble in, his face twisted into anger. He’d yell at you for something you’d done, then beat you until you passed out or until you pleaded enough for him to stop.

It was a different reason every time, but recently it had been more because of Bellamy Blake. You’d been close with him for a long time but recently it had been bothering your boyfriend a lot more. To the point you were scared to even look at Bellamy because you feared you’d be beat black and blue that night.

“Y/N?” Monroe’s voice echoed, albeit quieter and more hushed. You blinked, turning to her confused on why she’d grown so quiet. But upon reach her face, you saw stretched along versions of her face and her face contorted into pain. “Y/N, are you alright?” Her voice echoed around you. You stumbled suddenly, finding it hard to balance on your feet as you tumbled backwards. You heard Monroe and a few others call your name and suddenly you were falling over. You expected to feel your head smack against the ground but rather you felt yourself fall into something softer and warmer.

“Y/N? Y/N, no!” A voice echoed, clearly different from Monroe’s. But before you could even try and decipher who’s voice it was, you felt your consciousness slip.

Bellamy watched your face carefully, his eyes grazing over your form in concern. He’d been sitting there for a good twenty minutes, just waiting and willing you to wake up. After he’d caught you before you’d crashed into the ground, he’d brought you to Clarke immediately who stated you’d only passed out from the heat and advised he take you back to his tent and cool her off. Bellamy of course followed her instructions and upon reaching his tent, he took off your jacket careful of you, only to be stun with shock as his eyes grazed over your arms and shoulders.

He had a really good idea of who had done this to you and he figured that the bruises didn’t just stop at your arms, but he decided to remain calm until you woke up and he could ask you himself.

Being brought from his thoughts, Bellamy looked up at your face when he heard shuffling and a quiet moan. He leapt up from his seat, leaning over your form as your eyes opened. He watched as you squinted, blinking a few times before your vision focused on him. “Bellamy?” You whispered, your voice groggy. He helped you sit up and watched as your eyes scanned around yourself. “Why am I in your tent?”

“You passed out Y/N.” Bellamy whispered, looking down at his folded hands.


“You passed out because you refused to take off your jacket, Y/N. You passed out from the heat and now I know why.” Bellamy explained, his brows furrowing in concern and confusion. Confusion on how he hadn’t notice the pain you clearly were put in everyday and why you hadn’t told him. “Jesus Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

He watched your eyes fall to your arms, and biting your lip, you tried to stop yourself from crying. “I was afraid.”

“Of who?”

“I c-can’t tell you.” You stumbled over your words. Looking up you finally found his eyes, and with a certain pleading look, you shook your head pathetically. Bellamy’s eyes softened considerably and he pursed his lips in thought. “I can’t… he’ll hurt me.” You whispered. Leaning forward, Bellamy grabbed your wrists careful of your injuries, and softly gracing his hand over one of your arm, he sighed. He looked back up into your face, looking directly into your eyes and with sincerity, his whispered; “I won’t let him ever hurt you again. Y/N/N. Just tell me who did it.”              

You found only trust in his eyes, and with a trembling lip you whispered; “Y/B/N.”     

“Okay.” Bellamy’s hands fell against your cheeks, he brought your face closer to his. You were too focused on the fact that you’d told you biggest secret to someone to notice that the man you admired was so closed to you. Your heart was beating rapidly in fear at Y/B/N’s reaction, and an image of his twisted smile popped into your mind. You trembled in Bellamy’s hands and he was all too quick to respond. His lips descended upon your forehead and pressing a kiss there, his whispered; “I won’t let anything ever happen to you again Y/N.”

What Did He Say?

Title: What Did He Say?

 Summary: When Kili decides to say something to you in Khuzdul, you have no idea what it means.  But that doesn’t stop the fallout that occurs with Fili, causing you to have to seek out some extra help.

 Warnings: None?

 Masterlist of Fan Fiction

Originally posted by lehnshark

 You were laughing at the story that Bofur was telling, completely entranced with the narrative.  Bofur was always an amazing story teller, you loved it when he would share stories around the fire.  You leaned back a bit and bumped into Fili, who was sitting next to you.  “Oh, sorry.”  You said as you shifted.  “Didn’t mean to bump you.”

“No worries, lass. Doesn’t bother me.”  He said back quickly, giving you a soft smile that made you want to melt.  Those blue eyes, those perfect blue eyes, you couldn’t think when they were looking at you.

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anonymous asked:

Favourite Hannibal fanfictions?

Ooooh so this is a tough one! I still kind of see myself as a newbie in regards to the fandom, so I’m still reading/finding/perusing fanfics and trying to learn names. So far, this is what I’ve found! I’m putting the names of the authors as they are on Ao3 if you guys want to go check them out as well! Feel free to add on if you can think of any recommendations as well, guys!

-’Redemption’ by HouseofCannibals is seriously so good and beautiful and engaging with its gritty edge of prison life and the realities of such a rough institution with a shameless warden. Can’t wait for an update tbh, it kills me to wait, but it’s so worth it every time.

-’Il Ragazzo e il Suo Monstro’ by Phos is so unique and breathtaking. Their descriptions of the mental state of a young Will Graham just wrecks me, and I am honestly taken aback at how beautiful they craft the plot while maintaining those wonderful elements of the show that we all love and adore.

-’Bound’ by Norgbelulah is so fun and unique! Basically just picture a nordic/viking Hannibal and a monk Will Graham and BAM. So fun, so well done, and so happy whenever I see an update.

-’The Fox’s Wedding’ by TheHoyden is a cute one-shot where Will Graham gets abducted and it’s as hilarious as it is adorable and fluffy. Love, love, love

-’The Tale of Prince William Graham and the Insufferable Dragon Hannibal Lecter’ by Ghostwriter98 is basically the best mash-up of Shrek and Hannibal EVER. So funny, so gut-wrenchingly hilarious, and honestly…a Princess Alana stuck in a tower just is so amazing I can’t handle myself.

-’Omiai’ by Iesika is a lovely and chilling au whose descriptions of the macabre and dark know no bounds, and I’m obsessed. It picks up around where his encephalitis is actually cured by Hannibal rather than left to run rampant, and their work is so sharp and utterly lovely to read.

-’Night Shift’ by Possessivenoun –okay, basically anything written by Possessivenoun because it’s all so good and amazing and fucking fantastic. I think this one is my favorite by them, although they also have ‘Dark Wonders’, ‘Behold the Lamb’ and those are equally recommended and loved.


Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by anon

Jason’s s/o is shot accidentally when a street kid mugs her and Jason arrests the kid and takes his s/o to the hospital and when the s/o wakes up she convinces Jason to bail the kid out and let him stay in their apartment because she doesn’t blame him for shooting her and he’s just a kid who is trying to survive on the street. At first Jason doesn’t like the idea (because the kid shot his s/o) but then he realizes that the kid is kinda like him when he was younger and just family fluff

It was a dark, foggy night in Gotham as you were walking home late from work. Knowing the dangers of walking around the city at night through the many tales Jason has told you, you did your best to avoid them. That night, you had been stuck with the night shift that you begged your boss not to give you to no avail. As you silently hastened down the street, you heard rustling in an alley up ahead. You made a mental note of the fact that Jason knew you had taken the night shift tonight, changing his patrol route to be closer to you. Very carefully you pulled out pepper spray and a pair of brass knuckles Jason got you when he told you about his nightly activities. You began to walk faster when a figure jumped out of the alley in front of you.

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Simon Imagine - sad break ups and drunken make ups part 2

REQUESTED:  “Part 2 to sad break ups and drunken make ups? Like you’re trying to get your lives back together and your relationship back on track, and everything feels so new again”


Waking up next to Simon the day after the party was weird to say the least. The feeling of his naked chest against my back was both comforting and unnerving. It was a feeling I had missed, but also a silent confirmation of my fears: so we had definitely done stuff last night. I let my eyes wander around the familiar room, trying to look for some sort of change, some sort of tell tale to what had gone on whilst I had been away. But everything just looked exactly the same.

“Y/n? Are you awake?”

Oh that morning voice. My heart expanded in my chest, tripling it’s size. I wanted to remain silent; this moment was not to be ruined by words. However, as I felt his body shift behind me, I turned to face Simon.

“Yes.” I breathed, my voice timid and croaky after all the alcohol last night. “I’m awake.”

He looked down at me, his great blue eyes burning holes into mine. I thought maybe he might say anything - but he didn’t. Instead he just remained quiet, his arms returning cautiously to my naked waist. For some odd reason I felt extremely insecure in my naked state. My mind turned to wandering whether he was in the same manner underneath the covers. After as long apart as we had had, I felt as if Simon was a new person. It felt like being in the dating stage: everything is slightly awkward, uncomfortable, and you’re always on egg shells. 

This is what it felt like currently lying with Simon.

“Do I dare ask what this means for us or will it ruin this moment right here?” 

He broke the silence first, resting his head against the pillow as he looked at me. It occurred to me that perhaps he was trying to find an answer in my face as an alternative to in my words. This is always how our relationship went in the past. I broke the eye contact, looking down at his bare chest, tracing his anatomy with my fingers. 

“I think you just asked.”

His face broke into a timid smile. “It’s good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour.”

“Never,” I whispered, mirroring his smirk. “Simon what does this mean?”

His body tensed, but the words were already out, no taking them back. I wanted to bury my face in his chest and hide, already feeling exposed enough without my clothes, let alone now asking the dreaded question no one wants to hear while lying next to their ex after a drunken night. But as I looked down, my face heating, he placed a hand under my chin and lifted it.

“Y/n, it’s whatever you want it to be. I love you and you know that. That’s never ever gonna change. But I don’t want you to feel pressured, and that’s why I’m making this your call.”

I chuckled at the irony. No pressure, Y/n, but everything that happens from now is completely your call. Great. 

What did I want to happen? I loved Simon, I knew this, but everything in the world of Minter moves so damn fast, and I didn’t want a repeat of last time. I didn’t want to end up hurt and alone again. The thought made my eyes sting.

“Hey,” he cooed, his voice soft and warming. “Don’t get upset, okay, you don’t have to decide anything straight away. Just know I’m not going anywhere until you do. I want you, Y/n.”

I avoided his eye again, feeling painfully shy at the raw confessions, for some reason. 

“I want you too, Simon.” 

His body visibly relaxed at my revelation, however I pressed my palm to his chest, looking up at him.

“But we have to take it slow, okay. It’s not a relationship yet. It’s just…seeing eachother. We have to get to know eachother again.”

His eyes flashed with an emotion I did not recognise, and I felt my heart wrench a little. Was this not what he wanted? Was it even what I wanted? This all just seemed too much.

“Okay. Getting to know eachother again. Deal.”

“Thank you, Simon.”

“Y/n, it’s fine. Now what exactly does slow mean?”

“It just means less intensity. Less talk of the future, less involvement from fans, less travelling and all that jazz. I just want us to be happy together, just us, without any added labels. Is that okay with you?”

“Anything’s okay with me as long as you’re involved, Y/n.”

I smiled up at him as he propped his head up on his elbow, his face in his hand.

“I missed you, Simon.”

“I missed you more than you know, Y/n. Now one last question.”


“I can still touch you right?”

I laughed, hitting his shoulder playfully. 

“Well that depends on your behaviour, Mr Minter.”

He smiled, mouthing a ‘whatever’ at me as he lay back down. I turned to lay on my back and he put his arms over me, rubbing his hands over my stomach, my breasts, my thighs. 

“I’m getting to know your body,” he breathed against my earlobe.

“I think you know that well enough.”

“Oh I’ll never know it well enough, Y/n, believe me.”

a thing where RNJR is travelling to wherever and having to make camp for the night-

Ren decides to take the first shift of watch as everyone catches much needed sleep

Nora- refusing to go to sleep unless Ren sleeps- stays up with him

they both go on about talking about the routes they’ll take- Nora mentioning they’ll have to pass through their old village again to get to Mistral if they want to get there faster

Ren easing her mind on it with some soft quiet words and comfort

Ruby wakes up to Ren humming to himself as Nora’s next to him already fallen asleep

Ruby taking the second shift of watch for the night-

Ruby watching quietly alone in the dark- shadows flickering around her slowly start growing towards her as the fire she’s tending to starts to die out

Ruby getting deep in her own thoughts-Penny, Yang, Pyrrha, Beacon- but stopping and catching herself before she thinks herself deeper and attracting grimm around

Ruby building the fire up for the next shift- it’s Jaune’s turn

maybe they have a little talk-

Maybe some brief mention between the two of singing and how it calms the nerves- Ruby bringing up songs and fairy tale ballads her mom and Yang would sing- Jaune following along and trying to learn Rubys songs as Ruby sings herself to sleep

then it closes and fades out to Jaune humming to himself

hellsbellssinclub  asked:

Quiobi, no.1 with Qui-Gon as a Sith and Obi-Wan as a Jedi?

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s world is black and white.

There is good and there is evil.

He is a Jedi and therefore he is good.

Raised as the last Padawan Learner to the venerable Grand Master of the Order, Obi-Wan has strived all his life to be the perfect Jedi, the epitome of the light. He has ruthlessly chased out fear and anger from his heart, has excised all that would tempt him down a darker path shaded in charcoal, ebony, and onyx. He knows the shades of ivory that mark the path of the truly righteous like the back of his hand.

He is an example to the Order, to those initiates who feel they will never be chosen, encouragement to those Knights who fear that perfection is out of their grasp, and a subtle reminder to masters to think twice about their preconceived notions.

If Obi-Wan Kenobi can become a paragon of light, the finest of his generation, Master Yoda’s true heir, then anything is possible.

Through the light all things are possible.

Except… that is all Obi-Wan can see.

There is no color in his world, no vibrant blues, no ruddy crimson or a delicate yellow. The world around him is as black and white as the lessons handed down to him from a grandmaster who has evolved beyond caring about the color of a flower or the particular shade of the sunset.

After 800 years of shades of grey, Yoda needs no gaudy, saturated rainbow to tell him that sunlight dappled through the leaves of a sweet oak in the Room of a Thousand Fountains is beautiful. He simply accepts the world that he sees as it is. He does not need color nor does he want it.

“A Jedi craves not these things, Obi-Wan,” Yoda tells him and Obi-Wan does his best to listen to his master’s wisdom, to tell himself that there is beauty in the shift from radiant white to ecru to charcoal and the inky wash of night time.

It works for the most part.

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The Fiery Land of the Cyclopes

Vergil, Aeneid 3.570-587

Note: Trinacria = Sicily.

There is a harbor, unmoved by the approach
Of the winds, and huge by itself; but beside it
Etna thunders with dreadful collapses, and
From time to time it shoots forth into the air
A dark cloud, smoking with pitch-black whirlwinds
And red-hot ashes; it lifts up globs of flame
And licks the stars.  At other times it belches forth
Crags and the mountain’s torn-away innards,
Raising them high, and in the breezes
It melds together melted rocks with a groan
As it seethes from its lowest depths.
The tale runs that by this mass the body
Of Enceladus, half-burned by lightning,
Is pressed; that vast Etna, placed atop him,
Breathes out flames from its ruptured furnaces;
And that, whenever he shifts from one
Weary side to another, all Trinacria trembles
With a rumble and veils the skies with smoke.
That night, sheltered by the woods, we endured
Terrible prodigies, and we could not see
What cause produced the noise.  For the fires
Of the stars were nowhere to be seen,
Nor was heaven bright with starlight; no,
Vapors filled the murky sky, and the
Dead of night held the moon fast in a cloud.

Portus ab accessu ventorum immotus et ingens
ipse: sed horrificis iuxta tonat Aetna ruinis,
interdumque atram prorumpit ad aethera nubem
turbine fumantem piceo et candente favilla,
attollitque globos flammarum et sidera lambit;
interdum scopulos avulsaque viscera montis
erigit eructans, liquefactaque saxa sub auras
cum gemitu glomerat fundoque exaestuat imo.
fama est Enceladi semustum fulmine corpus
urgeri mole hac, ingentemque insuper Aetnam
impositam ruptis flammam exspirare caminis,
et fessum quotiens mutet latus, intremere omnem
murmure Trinacriam et caelum subtexere fumo.
noctem illam tecti silvis immania monstra
perferimus, nec quae sonitum det causa videmus.
nam neque erant astrorum ignes nec lucidus aethra
siderea polus, obscuro sed nubila caelo,
et lunam in nimbo nox intempesta tenebat.

Volcano, Lionel Walden, ca. 1920

anonymous asked:

How would the SDR2 guys react if their kids somehow found out about their past as the Ultimate Despair?

Hm… That sounds interesting anon ;D I hope you enjoy :)

SDR2 Boys reacting to their kids somehow finding out about their past as the Ultimate Despair

Hajime Hinata:

- Your kids were just playing around the living room whilst the two of you were just enjoying a nice cup of tea

- “Dad, is this you?” They hold up a picture of Izuru Kamukura

- Hinata instantly starts um-ing

- “Hehe! You looked really funny with long hair, I like it just how it is!”

- If the kids asked him anymore questions he’d probably try and explain that way before they were born there was a constant war going on and he was fighting at the wrong side at first but then things changed (probably because he met you)

- Every now and then the kids would ask about it but Hinata would be more than happy to tell his ‘epic’ tales like the time when he saved the Future Foundation

- The dork makes himself sound better than he actually was at times

Kazuichi Soda:

- “Dad, Dad, Dad! What’s this?”

- His kid is holding up a Monokuma. He let’s out a little scream which scares and confuses his child but then he notices, it’s just a teddy

- “Um… Well you see back in my day when I was young and…. Reckless let’s say I used to build these”

- “But they’re so cute!”

- Yeah not when they force you to kill your friends

- “Someone at school said it was a Dis-bear?”

- “Do you mean Despair?”

- “Yeah! Apparently they were horrible people!”

- He then spends some times explaining about the Ultimate Despair (Missing out the most brutal parts though)

- “But you’re good now right?”

- “Of course! Now all I want to build is a rocket car!”

Nagito Komaeda:

- “Dad! You never told us why your arm is all cool and metallic!”

- “Oh haha that was when I was part of the Ultimate Des-… Despair.”

- Dammit, it’s just his luck to reveal such a detail, and to his own kids too!

- “Huh? What’s the Ultimate Despair?”

- He kind of just goes off on a massive rant about how he hates despair and how this was the most hated group and how h-

- “Okay time for bed sweetie!”

- “Okay mummy!”

- You lead your children to their bedroom and tuck them in before returning to Komaeda

- “You used words they didn’t even know existed!”

- “Of course I did! Maybe they won’t ask anymore” He winks and then kisses the top of your head

- Honestly, all these years spent together and you still can’t understand him

Nekomaru Nidai:

- Honestly he just kind of laughs it off


- As soon as he sends your kids to help he instantly checks the house for any signs of Ultimate Despair

- If he finds any… BIN

- When you manage to bring the shopping in it seems the house is a lot more… Cleaner?

- That’s kind of odd you don’t remember leaving it so clean

- He’s giving you that big grin of his

- Hopefully his kids won’t asks again if there is nothing that triggers it

Gundham Tanaka:

- He tries his best to keep this part of his life hidden about him but one day when his kid comes to him and asks what the Ultimate Despair is he just stops for a second

- “Ultimate Despair you say? Well then let me tell you this fascinating tale!” He turns it into some sort of bed time story

- Needless to say he changes it into something completely different

- When you come home from a late night shift you see him silently creepying out of their room

- When he sees you he makes his way over to you and kisses your hand

- “I made sure they’re entertained… At least for tonight”

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu:

- “Dad tell us pleaseeeee why do you wear this cool eyepatch?”

- “Are you a pirate?”

- “Maybe Aunt Peko was the cause of it?”

- “What no, it was when I was in the Ultimate D-” He just stops before he can finish

- “Huhhhhh? Do you mean Ultimate Despair?! I knew it!”

- “Tell us about it pleaseeee!”

- “U… Uh….”

- And that’s when you just so happen to walk in


Byakuya Twogami (Imposter):

- His talent is a big advantage in this situation

- “Who’s this dad?”

- “Never met him.”

- “He kind of looks like you dad!”

- “Nope! That is most definitely a different person!”

- You just watch him play that game with your kids for a while and not gonna lie it’s kind of funny seeing how hard they’re trying just to get an answer

- In the end, they didn’t manage to get any answers out of him which caused them to go and pester you next

Teruteru Hanamura:

- He would just be making some nice meal until he felt a tug on his apron

- “Dad. I have a question.”

- “Hm? What is it?”

- “Is Ultimate Despair a meal?”

- “… No… Ultimate Despair is the name of… A cooking programme I was in!”

- “Woah! Really? Did you win?”

- OhmyGodtheybelievedit

- When you come back home you’re greeted with a nice warm meal and a lot of questions rapidly being fired at you, apparently Hanamura was in a cooking programme?… You’re majorly confused

Day Fifty-Seven

-I was thoroughly underwhelmed and relieved by the amount of customers we had last night when we opened the doors. Unfortunately, the real Black Friday shoppers apparently decided to wait until today to come in en masse, and it was more terrifying than I had ever imagined. Thankfully this did not stop Cat Lady from coming in four separate times during my shift without making a single purchase.

-A woman attempted to specify to me which items she wanted a gift receipt for. I would ask, “All of it?” She would reply, “No, just these,” gesturing to everything. This cycle went on for an entire minute at which point we finally reached the understanding that she did in fact want a gift receipt for everything.

-A gaggle of elderly guests shouted from a location I could not determine, repeating, “Excuse me. Excuse me.” in what was simultaneously a whisper and a shout. While it may be later than they would have hoped, I would now like to formally excuse them from all that they could have been asking for.

-Far too many people have come through the store treating Black Friday as a sport, seeing who can sacrifice the most manners to attain the most savings. The winner is whoever spends the least money while purchasing the most stuff. The loser, their cashiers.

-An older woman purchased $150 of Pokemon cards, but at no point did she mention any gift receipts or anything about presents at all. I hope this means that she is working her way towards being the best that there ever was and establishing that Pokemon trainers can, in fact, age past ten years.

-A woman in her sixties purchased Cards Against Humanity along with several expansions. Whether she is entirely unaware of what the game holds in store for her or entirely aware of what is to come, I want nothing more out of my life than to be the Czar.

-The only genuine winners of Black Friday are the two amazingly polite dads who came through with their toddlers in hand, boasting to each other of how much they saved on their kitchen appliances.

-I watched on in confusion and terror as a woman deliberately passed up dozens of smaller bills, one at a time, to ultimately draw out a $100 bill to pay for her $11 purchase. If her goal was to prove herself the highest of rollers in the store at the time, she accomplished this with flair.

-A sweet old woman entered my lane, a mysteriously goatee-shaped bandaid on her chin, pristine white gloves on her hands, a gray sweater with the hood altered to function as a cape perfecting her ensemble. I want her to adopt me as soon as we can both fit it into our schedule, or at least sign her as my fashion consultant and see if I can commission a cape-hooded hoodie from her.

-I handed a young girl the book she had so eagerly purchased. She excitedly took it and ran to the end of the lane as her parents continued the transaction and began to read the story aloud to all within earshot. She spun the tale of the two kittens with such passion that I was left wanting more than another chapter as the family left the store.

-I was greeted by a mother-daughter shopping duo who had also come through my lane the previous night. They were passionate about their savings, but equally concerned with my well-being and lack of sleep. If I had the energy, I would have wept a single tear as they walked away, leaving me behind to watch the closest things I had to friends in this shift attain the freedom I so dearly desired.

-”You have incredible hair,” a bald man told me wistfully, eyeing my unreasonably thick brown mop. The sadness in his eyes made me consider cutting off a lock to hand to him, but I thought better of it, lest we enter a giving-a-mouse-a-cookie style scenario.

-An elderly woman placed her bills down on the conveyor belt one by one to count them out. I picked them up as she placed down the first couple to ensure they were not swept under the belt. I gestured for her to place them in my hand rather than on the moving surface. Instead, she took this as a challenge, throwing her money across the counter, avoiding my hand as best as she could, cackling to herself as I made a mad dash to pick up each. I never expected this sort of chaotic evil to come from such a frail body, but I have learned my lesson. I will never underestimate a potential nemesis again.

-As I was walking towards the guest services counter, I passed a shrieking baby and a mother desperate to soothe him. I happened to have a strip of stickers in my pocket and, before thinking about it, swooped in to hand them to the child. They immediately ceased the crying and the mother shouted her thanks as I walked away. I am now a gracious sticker fairy and I will pursue this new path wholeheartedly.

-The information that I used to work at Forever 21 has leaked to the management, and I became the subject of a battle between a front end manager and a soft lines manager. I believe soft lines won out in the end and I may have been brought into a new line of work.

-A father attempted to heckle me, asking if I would accept his Kohl’s cash. I turned the tables on the man, telling him that I would gladly take it, but it would not lower his total at all. His family found this hilarious, laughing at him uproariously as he pouted to himself after being roasted so severely. Let this be a lesson to all cashier-hecklers: we are doing our best and our jobs are hard enough and some of us cope with humor and sometimes you will get brutally burned.


one-shot for @jilychallenge - february 2017

@gryffindormischief vs @woollfs (previously gxnevras)

prompt: so I’m a greek god and you’re a demigod who I turned up to curse because man you screwed up, but honestly that face is too cute to turn into a minotaur au

A/N: so this goes over 5900 words HA.  Not Greek gods but it’s all about gods/demi gods and whatnot.  Also it’s loosely based on the Epic of Gilgamesh so if you recognize anything that’s why. :)  @petalstofish this is it!!!! :) <3

Also available on FF and Ao3!

A sharp wind licks across the steep rock outcropping that cuts into the emerald landscape below, far enough down that vertigo kicks in for even the bravest.  Aside from James.  He’s traveled these lands enough times that nothing but that initial free-hand slide over the side to whatever makeshift handholds he can find will even bring his pulse above a resting heart rate.

Tucking the remnants of his lunch into his rather Spartan pouch – wouldn’t do to climb on a too full stomach – James tightens his belt, stretches his limbs, and strides toward the precipice with the casual purpose of someone who knows themselves and their task. That is until the scratching of claws – four sets if his ears are to be believed – scrape across the rough hewn stone.

James turns at the last minute, even his highly trained senses too slow to defend beyond raised forearms protecting his chest and head.  His vital organs should be well enough protected by the stiff leather that wraps around his middle, although his legs are vulnerable beneath the soft, worn cotton of his dark green trousers.

All this slips through his mind like a well-worn checklist – a product of years spent fighting and defending and being generally heroic – in the brief moments before the large, dark beast descends on him, the impact of its hulking form nearly knocking him to the ground.

As it is, he stumbles back a few steps which is a few more than he’s surrendered to any opponent since he counted his age in double digits.  Considering the circumstances, he lets the injury to his pride roll off his proverbial back as he flips the beast over his literal one and James quickly grabs his newly sharpened dagger from his boot.

With a few huffs that almost sound like indignant laughter, the dog like monstrosity stalks closer again and the two circle each other warily.

Relying on the adage of fortune favoring the bold, James quickly closes in on his opponent, its back to the sharp cliff as he wields his dagger expertly.  And yet despite his prowess, each swipe and thrust is easily evaded despite the rather heavy appearance of his foe.

Their single combat proceeds in this fashion for a time, neither gaining ground, neither surrendering, until James finally sees his chance and herds the beast toward the edge.

In the split second before he intends to push it over, delivering it a fairly sympathetic death as these things go, the monster shifts before his eyes, thick dark fur melting from its body and revealing taught olive skin, but the silver-grey eyes remain the same.

Momentarily caught off guard, the beast – man – grasps at his forearm desperately.  James narrows his hazel eyes inquisitively, jerking the man back from the sharp drop and shoving him toward his abandoned campsite.

Smirking rather arrogantly for a man who just barely escaped death’s clutches, his companion pushes up onto his hands, legs extended in front casually as if spending a lazy day picnicking by the lake.  “Quite the fighter then.”

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