The battle raged on, red and golden lights flashing throughout the room. Ichthys stayed behind the front lines like he always would. He was never an attacker. He was the support role, defending his friends’ backs as they wrestled with their opponents. You stood by your husband, drawing on the ancient magic in your soul, containing the war in a bubble that shielded the humans of the Earth from the destructive magic.
Ichthys spotted Teorus stumbling back from a duel, and raised him hand. A channel of energy pulsed from his palm into his friend’s body, a cool relief seeping into the wounds and damages, soothing them over, leaving a tingling sensation as the slashed sinew sealed themselves. The blond prince gave him a nod of thanks, and launched himself forward to help Karno. It was going well. They could win this. It’s been a long battle, and Ichthys could feel the fatigue slowly chew away at his insides. It wasn’t painful or particularly horrible, but it made every process of healing go a little slower, making him feel like the healing process was just pushing his capabilities a bit more than usual. Above the yelling voices in the mansion, Ichthys suddenly heard Huedhaut. Horrified, and alerting. “Lynne!”
Your six year old daughter had been tucked away in a safe room, guard against the violence with spells. Altair and Vega had been by her side. How did they-? How dare they.
Ichthys was running at the staircase without another thought, everything postponed as he tried to get upstairs to his child. Huedhaut had been the first to notice the girl, being closest to the staircase. With fluffy straight bangs and braided loops of hair bouncing with her movement, she was just an innocent little spark out of place within the slaughterhouse. She always looked a bit like you, and he saw the terror etched into the stars in her eyes. Familiar stars that Huedhaut loved once and dedicated his entire life to protect still. He called out for her father, and started towards her before two creatures jumped on him and he went under. A fleeting vision burned in his sight like an afterimage. The idea froze him, a stark fear gripping him as he tried to call out to Ichthys again, his voice choking in his throat and being lost in the yelling in the room. Vega pulled on the girl’s hand and they ducked under a fancy table before a fire strike smashed into the painting overhead. Altair waved his hand at the nearest bust statute, levitating it off the table and onto the head of an attacking demon. But they weren’t safe. A blur of black shadows followed them, having chased them out of the safe-keep and into the fray.
Ichthys lashed against those that tried to stop him, struggling to reach his daughter. There was a whirlwind of motion as someone barrelled him over, and by the time he scalded them to a puddle, she was gone. “Lynne!” His cry was drowned out in the thick of the battle a thin and desperate sound over the shouts and blasts of magic. He was scared. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. You were looking for her too, trying to move through the rooms, trying to find any trace of your daughter. A taiyaki plush toy sat on the floor by the staircase. A few drops of blood splattered on the tile like blossoms. Nothing else. There has been so much bloodshed here lately that it wasn’t even indicative of anything. You kept your hopes up, forcing yourself away from any likely conclusions that would break you completely. You had work to do.
The gods chased the demons out of heaven, winning the fight, clearing the mansion. It was this precise moment of celebration when it all came crashing down. “Ichthys!” His head jerked up from where he was tending to Dui. The god was slumped over the floor, holding himself on his elbows as his leg was straightened. A wicked smile flickered and faded over his face, and he sighed with exhaustion. “Ichthys, get over here! __________! ____________!” Teorus was screaming, completely unlike his usual dignified and elegant self. There was a ripple of commotion, and Ichthys ran to them expecting the worst.
Huedhaut had found her. He sought her out after escaping the demons that ensnared him after his vision.
Ichthys collapsed beside his friend, reaching with shaking hands as his daughter was passed into his arms. Lynne twitched, the movement making her cough. A deep puncture in her chest was leaking out her blood, purple splotches tainted into her blue dress, spreading rapidly like Ichthys’ despair. He latched onto her energy, tuning into the core force within her. Everything he had rushed through the connection, a healing pulse trying to keep her alive, trying to heal the would. You came to the scene slower than him, letting out a cry that sucked the strength from your body. Karno caught you as you swayed, and held you both in support and restraint as you tried to get to your husband’s side. “Sweetie, look at daddy.” He touched her cheek with a gentle hand, fingertips brushing over the freckles and smeared blood. Her tears washed two clean lines along her face, and Lynne whimpered. “Daddy… help… hurts…” “Daddy will make it better, okay?” Ichthys kissed her forehead, trying to summon the strength in him. “Just try to stay awake. Don’t sleep. Daddy got you. It’ll be okay.” He could sense her body try to heal, try to close the gaps that were opened, but there wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough time, not enough power from him. His powers were drained, the supply exhausted from the work he had done earlier, his mind weak from watching his precious daughter suffer. She wheezed, chest heaving for breath as her young face scrunched up in pain. “Ow…” “Daddy will save you.” He tried to ignore the sight of her, trying to focus on moving his magic into her body. He could feel the organs repair, bit by bit, not nearly fast enough for a wound that has been inflicted for so long already. She was too weak. She was dying. “Ichthys…” You wept, pleading with him, begging him to save your daughter. The head of sandy hair stayed bowed over the small body. He couldn’t meet your eyes, couldn’t bear to admit to his shortcoming, couldn’t believe that yes, he will fail to save his own daughter. He couldn’t hear anything else but the dying heartbeat that pounded on his chest with every weak pulse. A hot drop slide along his cheek, catching on his jaw momentarily before falling on her chest. Lynne’s dress was completely soaked through, a hauntingly beautiful shade of wine rouge. Her face was pale, contrasting the scatter of pretty freckles that he always said were her stars. She still moved, her heart still beat, her chest still rose and fell with breaths in agony. A tiny hiss of pain escaped through her teeth. He was keeping his daughter alive. But she wasn’t going to get better. Ichthys tried channeling all the energy he had, feeling the magic hit its limit. The puncture in her organs were half closed before they stopped. The heart couldn’t beat on its own. Lynne was dead, and he was torturing her by prolonging her death. “Please… Ichthys you can save her, right?” Your voice wavered, scared of hearing any answer that didn’t correspond with your hopes. He couldn’t answer. The silence sent a chill through your, numbing you from the depth of your heart to your fingertips. Lynne was your joy, the proof that your love for him was real and reciprocated, the adorable commotion between you and the man you loved so much. She was cheerful and playful like her father, sweet and kind. She was your daughter. She was real, lively, and called you mom. And now she lay there, in her father’s arms, without all her usual bright spirit, hanging on thread that was her father’s denial. Something felt like it clawed at your heart despite the empty feeling. It burned, sizzling in the hollow of your chest, making it impossible to breathe through the pain that intensified into the root of your being. “I’m so sorry, _______.” Ichthys’ voice came out as a helpless whisper. He gazed at his daughter adoringly, her face swirling in and out of focus as the tears gathered in his eyes. “Daddy’s sorry, Lynne.” The tears splashed on her cheek, melting the bloody smears into a spin of red on the pale face. “Daddy can’t help… This… This is the last time Daddy will lie to you… okay?” He reached out and hooked her pinkie finger into his. “It’s a promise… Daddy won’t lie ever again…”
He drew back. The magic retracted from its hold around her heart, letting the slowing pumps fade away to silence. He could feel every part of her die. The movements slowed, the breathing stopped, her face unclenched from the painful twist to a peaceful blank. Ichthys broke into a sob. It was always harsh on him to witness a death. It was always considered a failure when he couldn’t save someone. But to choose to let her die like that. Ichthys clutched her body to him.
I’m re-watching Teen Wolf on Netflix and I’ve honestly got to ask, because I didn’t get it the first time through this show either: Why the fuck is Sterek considered like the main slash OTP of the show?
Maybe it’s just me but I don’t get any chemistry between them at all. It’s a snarky teenager and the brooding angry emotionally-stunted adult who acts creepy as hell and repeatedly threatens him with violence.
That doesn’t spell ‘awesome relationship’ to me.
You know who does have chemistry in bucketfuls and who’s characters do make such total sense as a pairing that it’s consistently baffling to me that the show itself never acknowledged it and instead crowbarred them into straight relationships?
year had started off on a bad foot and it seemed to head down a dark
path. First, Loretta Loriot had been taken by someone who, seemingly,
was against the changes she had made at the school. Then the students
had elected Pauline Mangin as the pro-tempore headmaster in Loriot’s
absence and the woman was acting as if her predecessor was already
dead. All this while the Nachtmarr still roamed the halls of Haus
Gold and Haus Silber. His proposal had done nothing to stop other
attacks from happening, and now his sister had been hurt.
was not the type of person to lash out physically. There was no
hurling of spells, no violence. He had lingered in one of the
workshops instead, day after day, hour after hours, to work on a
project. Laid on the tables were charts, diagrams, numerous
mechanisms and magical components. He was building something—sleeves
rolled up to his elbows and hands dirty with chalk and black ink—and
was invested in his work that he barely noticed someone coming in, at
first. “Professor O'More is not here,” he said, not even looking
up from his calculations. “If you need something from the storeroom
remember to write down on the ledger what you took.”
I’ve seen a few posts commenting on Dean and “I had it coming”, expressing that the beating was deserved for previous actions of his, in particular Dean’s violent actions towards Cas in The Prisoner. I wanted to write a counter to this opinion, simply because I think to hold Dean entirely accountable for the events of 10.22 was to perhaps miss a vital point that episode was trying to make: Dean had lost his fight against the mark of Cain.
This is of course simply one interpretation, but for me, repeatedly throughout the episode we were shown Dean doing things that ordinarily he wouldn’t, all to highlight how much the mark has corrupted the older Winchester. Standing before the pyre, Dean tells Sam that it should be him burning and not Charlie. Dean has gone to extremes to keep Sam safe throughout the show’s run, we know how strongly he loves his brother and that there is very little he wouldn’t do to protect him. So to hear him at this point tell Sam it should be him dead, that’s a pretty significant indicator that this isn’t the Dean we know and love anymore.
Then there was the Styne family massacre. What we had here was Dean destroying a bloodline, a dark bloodline that he no doubt reconciled with himself as deserving of its fate and that the world was better off without.
This should sound familiar. We saw the same thing in The Executioner’s Song with Cain. Cain, the father of murder, the original human to fall to the mark’s corruption, made the decision to rid the world of his own bloodline. We are seeing Dean do similar in The Prisoner to show how much in Cain’s footsteps he has followed and, again, to show how much of himself has been lost.
We even have Cyrus Styne to further solidify the parallel; back in The Executioner’s Song we had Austin Reynolds, a young boy who Cain deemed “could go either way” but would kill anyway because he preferred to be “thorough”. Knowing the child was at risk, Dean didn’t hesitate in his decision to stop Cain, despite all of TFW’s fears that doing so would cost Dean greatly.
So when Dean stands before Cyrus, who we the audience know isn’t a killer like his family but ‘could go either way’ in Dean’s eyes, and shoots him coldly, this is another massive indicator that Dean is at this point not the Dean we know and love.
And to even further solidify this, we have Cas outright tell Dean “The Dean I know would never have murdered that kid”. And he’s right, he wouldn’t, and we have the events of The Executioner’s Song to support this, if there were any doubt.
So when we get to the controversial moment of Dean beating Cas severely, we should be viewing this understanding that this isn’t Dean acting of his own volition but rather that the mark has such a dark hold on him that it even has him beating up Cas. And the music we hear playing at this time is yet another device used to drive the point home. This theme is often played during emotionally significant moments for Dean, it’s a theme representative of his heart and soul, his love for those who mean everything to him. Playing this melody during the above devastating scenario is for the purpose of emphasising how tragic these events are that a good man (and yes, Dean Winchester is) has fallen this far to an evil curse. How tragic it is that Cas suffers physically at the hand of a human he shares such a profound bond with and emotionally at the knowledge of how lost Dean is to them and that he couldn’t save him here like Dean asked him to if he ever reached this point.
So, to agree with Dean’s self-loathing statement (and both Dean and Cas in the Bad Seed know that Dean chooses not to be healed because of his guilt and need for self-punishment) that Dean was deserving of Cas’ spell-driven violence against him, is, for me, to misunderstand what exactly the mark had done to Dean by the time we had reached The Prisoner.
Prompt: Imagine being in the same situation as Sam from Until Dawn, Where the Pack and you go on a mountain getaway, And you are left alone in the house, and a murderer is stalking you, until the pack shows up, and Stiles comforts you because you were terrified.
A/N: I really enjoy this game, it’s amazing, but damn, it is scary as hell, and I’m not just saying that because i’m a girl, Its just really great. So I recommend you play (not so much) this game, but since i’m a little bitch, I watched Pewdiepie play this awesome game. Also I’m going to try to write exactly what happens in this scene, but try to make it fit the characters. Requests are always open, Enjoy! xx
Warning(s): Some violence, shitty spelling, and just some pack fluff.
Words: 1213 (WOW)
It was an Idea by Lydia that you and the pack go on a little holiday because you were all working so hard to protect Beacon Hills from all the supernatural creatures. So she decided you all go to a ski lodge on a mountain that her parents owned. You were excited, you agreed that you all deserved a short adventure away from Beacon Hills. So you packed your bags, filling them with the warmest clothes you had, because Lydia warned you all that it was going to be cold.
Stiles and you drove to the address Lydia gave you. Snow covered the road, so much that you couldn’t see the sign that told you that you are leaving Beacon Hills. It was about a 3 hour drive to the destination, and you couldn’t say that you weren’t excited, the view was amazing! You and Stiles jumped out of the car and grabbed your bags and trudged through the snow. You made your way to the entrance of the ski lift, the mountain was way bigger than what you thought. “Stiles, isn’t the view amazing?” Frankly, you were quite scared to look over the edge, but who isn’t?
You and Stiles finally made your way to the cabin, well giant cabin, and opened the door to be greeted by darkness. “Uh, Stiles didn’t they tell us we would be staying here?” He nodded his hand and pulled out his phone from his back pocket, and turned the torch on. “Guys? Lydia? Scott?” You heard footsteps and got a little freaked out. “Oh, guys you’re here.” Lydia shone her torch in your direction, and you could tell she was pissed off. “Well my parents didn’t tell me the power wasn’t on, so I told the gang to go look for the switch, so I waited for you guys.” You nodded, “I think i’m going to stay here and have a nice warm bath” They agreed and left to find the rest of the group. You took off your shoes and tried to find the bathroom, so you could actually feel all of your limbs again.
You turned the faucet on, until the bath was filled with hot water. You peeled your clothes off and stepped into the bath. You decided to bring your phone and earphones with you to relax in the water, and placed the ear buds into your ears and forgot about the world around you. A few minutes later you could of sworn you felt a presence in the room with you, but you shook it off. ‘bang!’ there was a door closed that made you pull the ear buds out and step out of the water. “Guys? what are you doing back there?” You walked over to the rack and picked a towel up. You search under all the towels trying to find your clothes. “And took my clothes? This joke isn’t funny anymore!” You walked out of the bathroom, and looked around the open area. “Stiles?” you walked towards the stairs and stepped down them, “Please, can you just stop? this really isn’t funny, aha Paige is walking around in a towel, now I really want this to be over,” There were so many stairs, it felt like you were walking around in circles, until you were met with another pair of stairs. ”okay, if you were trying to freak me out, guess what, you succeeded.” your heart was thumping in your chest so hard it felt like it was going to burst with fear when you came to the end of stair cases and face to face with an open door, the theater room to be exact. You hesitantly walked towards the door and picked up a torch from the table. “where the hell are you guys?” you whispered to yourself, and stepped in side the room shining your torch in front of you and quickly took a glance behind.
“Hey! guys come ON! I am DONE with this! I really don’t appreciate the silent treatment here!” The door behind you slammed shut, and your screams filled the room. The screen turned on, and a voice started talking, “Hello, Paige,” You circled around the room trying to find the owner of the voice. “Looking for me? I don’t think you’ll have much luck by looking, Paige.” “what the…what the hell..!” You gasped It felt like you couldn’t breathe, its like he knew you were going to be alone, and you were human, he probably thought the rest of the group were human too, but boy is he wrong. “Your only going to see what I want you to see, and I have quite a lot to show you.” “what…what is going on..!?” “open your eyes..” A video started playing on the screen of you in the bath, you gasped placing your hand on your mouth.”She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? a beautiful bathing bird.” “how..why..” “Do you think she has any idea that lies ahead?” “why are you doing this? WHY are you showing me this?” You slowly stepped away from the screen, “I’m going to give you ten seconds,” “no, nonono..” “Nine, eight…” “nonono… please,PLEASE DON’T” “seven.” the doors behind you slammed open.
“Paige.” “Shut up!!” You threw a vase at his arm and ran to the door on the other side of the room, and quickly opened it and ran out. “shit,shit,shit shit!” You ran down the hallway, and opened the other door, jumped over the bed, and kept running until you got the main staircases again. “HELP, SCOTT! STILES! LYDIA! MALIA!” the heavy footsteps became louder, and sounded like they were coming closer. You looked around you shoulder to see if the killer was following you still. he was hot on your heels. “No! stay away!” You ran down the stairs trying not to fall. You were almost there. “Paige… you can’t escape..” Tears started pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill. You threw the door open and ran into the cold winter night and saw something moving. Glowing red eyes came into your view, and you ran faster that you thought you could. “Scott! oh god help me!” you ran into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. He hugged you tightly, until he saw the bastard chasing after you come through the door and stop his action. “Stiles take care of her,” Stiles ran over and engulfed you into a hug. You couldn’t see what was happening,but you knew it was bad. It sounded like flesh being ripped apart.
You were shaking, you have never been so terrified, of course you should be scared all the time because you live in Beacon Hills, but you were alone this time. Just a little human girl with no one to protect her. Sounds pathetic right? But sometimes the pack tried to convince you otherwise, that you’re stronger than what you think. Stiles collapsed on the frosty floor, you still held in his arms, he kept placing butterfly kisses on top of your head and whispering sweet nothings until you felt more pairs of arms being wrapped around you. You knew since you had such great friends, no family, you would never be in danger ever again.