#Alex the little ink creature
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
alex4735 · 4 months ago
Text
Alex's eye seen up close
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
godihatethiswebsite · 30 days ago
Text
Tethered Bonds
✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)
A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?
Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✽ Part Five - On Trial
Apologies for the delay as there were a few speed bumps that my foggy brain just did not want to hump over. This chapter gave me some grief, but I'm still happy with how it turned out :)
Trigger Warnings: religious imagery, ptsd, angst, brief mentions of rape/incest/assault/drugging/coercion/miscarriage
Flat deadened eyes bore chasms through your own.
They peeled away the impregnable shroud of shame masking the abhorrent malefactions of those you’ve wronged.
In a split second of time, those eyes foisted judgment upon all your heinous sins with an executioner’s toll. Damning you to an endless oblivion amongst the cacophony of wailing souls eternally condemned to the River Styx.
Behold! The face of your adjudicator!
Blackened barbed wire constricts the fat of his gluttonous form. Exposed sickly ashen skin held together by threaded catgut, bursting at the seams with bone-white mold. Hellfire caged in little glass vials illuminates the agonized expression glued to a visage of perpetual torment, standing against a backdrop of towering decayed limbs, basking in the multitude of jewel toned offerings left by those who worship at the base of this miserable creature’s sacrificial altar.
…Of all the cheerful residents from the Hundred Acre Wood, who on god’s green earth decided that Eeyore of all things would be the poster boy for Christmas?
The melancholically predisposed cartoon character was a mess of tangled Christmas lights, having apparently failed in his endeavor to liven up the wilted excuse of a barren evergreen behind him and somehow succeeding in trapping his own pudgy form in the decorations instead – the ‘D’ in December knocked crooked in his fruitless struggles.
A paltry souvenir magnet from someplace sunny holds the calendar aloft, Winnie the Pooh designs posted on the side of your fridge with thick glossy sheets. A gift from your fathers; a new one included in their holiday care package every year. 
You’re sure the overstuffed box currently shoved beneath your kitchen table for lack of anywhere more reasonable to house it has its plastic-wrapped replacement buried amongst the other contents. Previous years involved such colorful settings as early 2000’s internet memes or a compilation of fun facts regarding the world’s different varieties of cheeses. Not for your own enjoyment, of course, but for the chagrined expression your family insisted on basking in come Christmas morn.
Not that you admitted to liking this past year's theme of childhood whimsey…
The curlicue numbers on the wintery grid mark the passage of time – crossed out with dry streaks of red ink. Christmas is naught but five days from now, the emphasized date stamped in the upper righthand corner with a glittery ribbon as if the holiday needed even more call for attention. It means almost nothing to you outside of a familial facetime over a microwaved breakfast of cheap eggo waffles. 
You’ll suffer congenially through the good natured poking and prodding. Chloe will send a text; Alex won’t. And the day will pass by in a whisper of silence – the magic of miracles stored back in their damp corporate box for cheapened rehashing the following year.
Holing away in the confines of your solitary habitat came with the added benefit of only exposing yourself to the overhyped celebration on a reasonable once-weekly basis, driving to and fro your therapist's office; painfully ignoring the garish spectacle of such yuletide enrichment as fuzzy wonky reindeer antlers wedged atop sticker splattered minivans, off-key fourth graders caterwauling carols in the backseat, tinsel and fiberglass grating on your teeth.
At least, your antisocialness normally would save you from such headaches. 
When the pharmacy didn’t bungle communications with your primary care physician and refill your prescription two weeks early. 
The voicemail left on your phone this morning was a little more than a minor annoyance. You’d only just finished chasing the taste of bile with citrusy mouthwash, leaning your leaded weight against the cold marble of the sink, stomach still spasming with painful braxton hicks-like contractions. Shaky hands splashed tepid water on your face, wicking away the evidence of exertion and clearing your chin of digested chicken noodle. 
You’d only half paid attention to the robotic voice droning over speakerphone, wiping off your face with a disgruntled glare at your reflection and muffling a groan into the pilled fabric of your hand towel at the automated message. This was not a day to be playing at adulthood. This was a day for warm chunky socks and Disney movie marathons. 
And now because some overworked new hire chugging Red Bulls probably keyed in the wrong refill date in an over-caffeinated zeal, you were once again paying for someone else's mistake. 
(A running theme for your life.)
You shook off the bitter thought with a weary sigh, hanging the damp towel from the plastic command hook on peeling wallpaper. The buzzing of the keypad rattled the counter as you’d cleared out your phone’s voicemail, scooping up the device and trudging back around the corner to begin what should’ve originally been an easy day. 
Now, a few hours of lounging had garnered you enough gumption to voyage out amongst proper society once more, rinsing your chubby dinosaur mug from earlier in the sink as your eyes flick up unwittingly to the calendar nearby. 
You know what you’re counting even as you abash yourself for it. 
The crumpled bag of mostly full coffee grounds has been sitting in your bin for the past two days, put there in an abstract protest to the blatant disregard of your feelings by a caustic alpha. The taste on your tongue has become as phantom as the scent that once clung to your coat rack, wafted away by a bottle of descenting spray the same way you wish to purge his lingering effervescence from where it's taken root in your spine.
The offending bag collects dust at the top of the pile, placed there in a huff at the start of every morning. When its existence mocks your suffering and the grief of a life you’ll never get to live is at the forefront of every painful heave into grimy porcelain, forced onto your knees like the flaccid servient creature that beast has morphed you into. 
Still, there’s no sign of refuse or food waste on the flimsy outside packaging. It never stays put long enough to accumulate filth or bury itself in neglected disuse. At the end of the night, when the wounds of before are wrapped in a somnolent layer of protective padding, it returns to its spot amongst the clutter of your countertop, a pitiful idol to the foolish part he’s allowed to fester against your better judgment.
God, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it – you really have. With what little there is to occupy your mind in this lackluster environment, the labor of staying detached is proving arduous. John’s memory agitating the stripped-bare axis of simple order your world rotates upon.
Distraction eludes you at every attempt to forget. The warmth of your nest is the comfort of his leather embrace, the Zofran on your tongue the calloused paw at your nape grounding you in tempered reality. Soft boar hair bristles are his fingers, the zest in your meal his vigor. His face is in the deep prussian sweater jailed to the back of your closet for the sole crime of coming too close to the cerulean shade that haunts your waking memory.
You thought you already knew what it meant to belong to another. To be branded with someone else’s signet like a bored kid in history class taking chunks out of his desk until it was too desecrated with graffiti to be regarded as anything other than his unofficial property. No one wanted to touch what the school bully had already sullied.
Until John.
It didn’t matter that the seat was already occupied. He just scratched out the nameplate with safety scissors and staked his claim with a wad of gum beneath the chair.
He was dark matter wedging its way to take up space between condensed molecules, bullying the other elements into submission until his chemical makeup twisted you to something there was no coming back from. Sweeping in with the strength of a category five and the persistence of the big bad wolf.
You despise John for the damage he’s incurred to your house made of straw – all of them really – but you detest yourself even more for the gnawing disappointment flooding your gut that he hasn’t shaken the foundations further.
The hiss of pain between your teeth as you adjust the abrasive scarf around your neck serves as a sobering reminder of the real cancer infecting your cells. Even if the claim was buried under layers, it didn’t mean your flesh didn’t still carry the scars from its etching. 
Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you take to the task of unlocking each of the bolts guarding you from the true terrors of an alpha’s altruistic attention. 
Please just let this be quick.
The sneer from the old crone in aisle two has you ducking the latter half of your face in the itchy fabric that hides the one thing you’re currently being judged for.
You don’t know her name, but you’ve seen her outside the steps of your apartment enough with her hellspawn of a pomeranian to know she lives in your building. The grey curls of her poodle cut perm do nothing to hide the splotches of alopecia that come with age. Tissue paper skin dappled with sun spots begs for the youth of collagen, gaunt around her cheekbones and only highlighting her witchy exterior, a moth eaten shawl hanging loosely over the quasimodo hump keeping her from standing at a height taller than that of a twelve year old child.
The grouchy bat is clever, though, you’ll give her that. There’s a discerning eye behind those tortoiseshell frames that speak of a bygone prime filled with intrigue and gossip that’s followed her well into her twilight years. 
She’s honed her intellect well.
And she knows.
Your skin crawls with maggots under her heated glare, boring subdermal tunnels that reach beyond the capabilities of a simple itch. The writhing anomalies only add to the growing discomfort of waiting in the pharmacy queue for far longer than need be. Ten minutes you’ve been behind the same middle aged man – too diffident to interrupt the conversation going on ahead of you – as what should’ve been a simple snatch and grab of his blood pressure medication turns into three decades of catching up with a bygone acquaintance from primary school.
“–when Janine drank some weird concoction back at Jimmy’s place. Fucking health nut has his own carbonator in his kitchen and she got the bright idea on six shots of cuervo to run a glass of milk through the damn thing. Ended up spewing all over Crystal’s pants.”
To their credit, the pharmacist had at least been working on filling prescriptions as he prattled on with the bald spot beta in front of you, bustling between stocked aisles of jarred substances and counting out little white tablets with every ping from the database. He just didn’t seem to care about the goings on inside the store. “Adam mentioned that when I ran into him at the football match last June. Isn’t that O’Hara’s omega? The one who used to save her gum in a giant ball after she was done chewing it?”
Eww. Seriously?
“Nah, that’s Abigail. Crystal was Billy and Carter’s girl.”
That seemed to catch the other alpha in his tracks, a quizzical brow replacing one of mild interest as he paused his fingers over the keyboard. “Was? What happened to her?”
“Fucking up and left them, that’s what. And right after they supported her through that unfortunate miscarriage too. Came home one day to an empty nest and a note on the table telling them she was done. Poor guys never even saw it coming.”
“Wow. Who would’ve thought she’d turn out to be one of them?”
“Yea,” the beta’s tone turned sour. “Unfaithful bitch.”
The Unfaithful. 
That’s what they call you now. 
Those who have forsaken their oaths and disgraced the name ‘omega’. The sanctity of packdom desecrated by egocentric bond breakers. Scheming harlots abandoning their worshipful protectors– denying them their designated rights and withholding the gift of eternal peace upon those alphas worthy enough to be chosen.
False omegas. Government apostates to how things are supposed to be run.
Doesn’t matter that those who claim to be victims before the courts are the same conniving bastards stripping us of our bodily autonomy. Nothing is impermissible. 
Rape. Incest. Assault. Drugging. Coercion. Words that carry weight become cotton candy deadlifts in the face of a mating bond. It has no undoing – no magic words or medical procedures. There is no running towards the arms of a better pack in hopes of a brighter future; no room for another in the tether of your soul. That anchor has taken root in the rock bed and cannot be claimed outside the mysticism of a scent match. 
Crueler parts of the world would hunt you down like the runaway slave they’re too cowardice to admit they perceive you as, a bounty placed upon your head and welts on your back for disobeying, brittle nails clawing at the dirt in a last attempt at freedom, dragged back to your master in an iron wrought collar displaying the shame of your sins. 
Suppose you should consider yourself lucky that here, amongst the dredges of refined society, your kind are merely shunned.
Bosom friends all turn their backs, work desks empty into a cardboard box under the guise of ‘performance issues’. The deli at the corner claims they’re closed, red blocky letters drawing blood by the gallons as the patrons inside regard you like you’re nothing more than a sopping wet stray begging for scraps in the rain.
There are no laws that protect from discrimination for people like you. The lease in your fathers’ names and the lie from their lips are the only things sheltering you from homelessness. Others are not so fortunate as to have the word of an alpha keeping them off the street. 
The forlorn promise of a better tomorrow is all that greets you now in the wake of devastation. There is no higher contract than the bite marks on your neck. 
The scathing look from the disgruntled woman would be warranted by those around you if they were privy to the same suspicions she carried. The signs were all there if they only knew where to look.
“Miss?”
You hardly notice when they end their interaction, the off-putting customer service smile from the alpha behind the counter making the pit of your stomach rumble with unease as you scurry to the front, quietly offering up your personal information as you place your ID on the counter.
If he only knew he had the power to blacklist you in his hands…
You fork over the cash in far shorter time than the previous customer did, spending less than two minutes to his twenty before you duck away from the substantial line that’s formed in the time since your subsequent arrival. 
It’s your luck the old hag is three guests behind you, averting your gaze to the task of stashing your meds to try and keep from further interaction. Too bad a half century’s worth of smoking comes out in the rasping slur she spits at you from underneath her breath.
“Fucking glitch.”
You’ve heard the words directed at you once before, only far more cutting and uttered from a far different mouth. That didn’t stop the insult from piercing through to bone, a deep ache in your ribs that slows your gait and gives you pause beside the basket drop-off. 
A quick glance around confirms a lack of disdain from your fellow shoppers. You’re surprisingly fortunate that her biting remark hadn’t been made any louder. You frequent this shop often enough to be recognizable to most of the staff – though not on any sort of conversational terms. Being blacklisted here wouldn’t just result in an inconvenient trek farther for medical service, but a mark that would deny usage no matter the location.
Every step out your front door is a chance for your past to catch up to you… in one form or another.
A shock of cold jolts you from your far-away stare, startling a yelp that draws brief attention as you jump back from the unwanted contact, hand retreating away at the abrupt offense. Cradling it to your chest, you’re met with cobalt eyes and sunshine hair, a bright eyed pupper beaming up at you from its spot perched at your feet.
“Sorry about him!” An apologetic voice squawks to the left of you, calling your attention to the hobbling beta woman at the other end of the leash. Her neon green marshmallow puffer greets you before her dark curls and round cheeks, a prosthetic hand keeping grip on her furry friend. “He’s a well behaved boy I promise! Ain’t gonna bite ya or anything.”
“Oh no, he’s fine!” The tremble in your words is more from social awkwardness than anything, having been caught off guard in a place far too crowded for your tastes, rolling your shoulders to halt the impulse to scratch. “Just wasn’t expecting a wet dog nose is all.”
The beta, on the other hand, has no problem running a knitted mitten over the back of her neck. “Yeaaaah, it’s not often he gets away from me like that. You see, he’s my service animal.” She calls attention to the black vest around his body, a litany of bright colored patches and big blocky words adorning the functioning harness that you hadn’t quite discerned upon first glance. “He uh… was just alerting to you.”
It takes you a moment to process the words, blinking down at the panting canine regarding you with eyes more keen than the pea-brained expression would suggest. 
Good to know even a dog can sense you’re nine different levels of fucked up.
“You can pet him if you want,” comes the gentle offer upon spying the embarrassment painting your features, taking her faithful companion’s inattention in stride. The quirk of her mouth gives you a green light even if her words already did. “Far be it for me to disagree with the boss here when he puts his mind to something.”
The words of declination rest limp on your tongue, a moment’s hesitation giving way beneath the understanding gaze of an impartial animal whose sole purpose is to provide the comfort of love. Crouching down to its level – uncaring of the salt trekked state of the tile – it's almost instinctual to wrap your arms around the retriever for an act that seems so much more dangerous coming from any other being. The muzzle that finds home in the junction of your shoulder roots you through the floor, going beyond solid concrete foundation and miles of serpentine pipeways, winding through terraceous cracks unyielding to the progress of man to find purchase in the damp soil unseen for thousands of years, unbowing to the anything but the turn of the earth.
Calm is not the word; the pounding pulse in your ears and the headrush of being out in public still ring through the chittering bustle of checkout lanes to keep you on your toes. Yet the ache in your soul feels less like a boulder and more like a handful of a pebbled shore.
Pulling away from the smell of damp fur, slobber greets your face in the form of affection, features pulling taut against the playful onslaught trying its best to intrude between the cracks of your mouth. 
“Easy does it, bud.” A soft yank on his harness serves as a gentle reminder, turning from loveable pup to esteemed gentleman panting in perfect submission. “No one wants to taste what you had for lunch earlier today.”
You flash her a grateful smile for the interference, fingers moving next to scritch around the bright red collar mostly hidden by dense hairs, a glinting dog bone with cursive scrawl clacking against the knuckles of your hand. “Rocky, huh?”
“Yea,” she chuckles. “Don’t judge, but he was actually my favorite power ranger as a kid.” Her mittened hand joins yours in the thick pelt of his neck, scratching at some secret spot that gets his tail thumping, the appendage a whirling propeller trying in vain to achieve liftoff. How long they must’ve been in each other’s company for such familiarity. “Figured since this little guy was gonna be my hero too, he deserved a name befitting the courage he inspires.”
Her sincerity sparks something in you as you reach back to your own childhood, the sizzling of pancakes on the griddle against a backdrop of Saturday morning shows. Your smile warms at the memory. “Hey, no judgment here. After all, mine was Tommy.”
The moment breaks with shattered glass somewhere off to the right, the both of you reacting with varying degrees of frazzled nerves. You don’t miss the way her hand strikes out with practiced swiftness towards her hip, something nonexistent bumped away from flexing fingers by a patience nudge. Wide eyes glance down at her stalwart companion, already staring back with all the surety of his namesake, pushing her palm further against the smoothness of his head, urging her to stay with him in the safety of the moment. You don’t know the ghosts that haunt her–doing your best to avert your gaze from the glimpse of carbon fiber–but you watch as they retreat with calming breaths back to the place where they were born.
She shoots you a look you know she rather wouldn’t, an unspoken apology wrapped in embarrassment as familiar to you as it is to her, understanding passing between mirrored irises. There’s a shuffling of feet as you both scurry on your respective ways, you towards the outside air while her path takes her further inward. A quick glance over your shoulder finds him pressed against her side, snout turned upwards with a lolling tongue and dopey smile, eyes on the caregiver staring back at him with fond devotion. To have something that loves you that much…
Your gaze softens along with your words. “Good boy, Rocky…”
Fire ants bite into your cheek as the sharp crack that accompanies them leaves an outline of lava, the slap mark on your face glowing red hot and searing with the weight behind their assault. It dulls as the molten rock cools, a beating heart on the surface kept in time with the now racing pulse in your neck. The shock of it is almost as painful as the protruding iron shelves getting knocked against your spine, blowback jostling the festive display contents some poor stocker worked so hard on as cardboard cubes of kleenex clatter like ornaments to the muck-stained floor.
The outcry from your lips is muffled in comparison to groaning metal shifting under your weight, hand instinctively flying up as a wall to protect from further onslaught. Heat blooms again even under your careful touch, hissing in a gasp as wide eyes filled with glistening saline catch up a moment before your nostrils take in a familiar decadence. 
Her omega scent of rich warm brownie, fresh out the oven – but swallowed from the edges by the beginnings of char. Too high a temp getting cooked for too long, potent in its fury as it cracks and concaves. A sickeningly sweet outer shell transmuting under pressure, turning perfect gooey fudge into bubbling tar.
The visage that greets you is tempered by dread; a mixture of refined beauty and smoldering hate.
White fluffy earmuffs contrast against long chocolate waves spilling like molasses over a matching pristine peacoat – as if not even fate itself dared to sully such purity. If the air of refinement somehow doesn’t outclass you than the designer handbag does. No pack could ask for a more exemplary omega.
You’ve seen those cheekbones on the cover of magazines, that glassy skin splashed clean in luxury skincare ads. Perfect porcelain as artistically rendered as fine chinaware. Every model you’ve ever envied taken shape as your worst nightmare. Dark bambi eyes red-ringed with acidic tears, button nose flaring with each heaving rise of her trembling shoulders. Full pouty lips quiver under the enormous weight of emotions that threaten to claw almond manicured nails through your skin like chainsaws.
There is anger, but there is also pain.
And you caused it.
You do not know which response consumes you more: panic, or shame. 
“You–” her voice breaks like her heart, delicate wind chimes in a spring downpour. “You s-stay away from them…” Her words come in a struggle, fighting for stability whilst she hangs onto her composure with a thread as thin as spider silk. “They’re not yours… so… so just– just leave us alone!”
Gone is the lighthearted vision spun in innocent etherealness from that day in the store. Sparkling doe eyes now filled with scorn don’t suit the unblemished being not a foot in front of you. There’s an ingrained sweetness in her now pitiful form that so easily calls to an alpha’s protectiveness, a creature that deserves to be cherished, adorned; royalty reincarnated to a modern day princess.
There are only traces of that now standing a few feet in front of the automatic sliding doors, a smashed box of tissues keeping the mechanism from closing and sending a chill over the entire conversation. 
You shrink in on yourself, lowering your gaze in a meek show of submission that speaks where your own voice fails. How could you continue to look her in the eye when you are the reason this woman is suffering? When you are the bad guy in every sense of the word?
Filth. Sullied. Poison. Suffocating her with your very presence as if your own tainted pheromones could overcast hers.
You expect more–deserve more–but she turns on her heels, the sensors allowing passage as she hurries back out the way you suspect she only just came.
You’re as stunned as the bystanders around you, blinking at her retreating form into the small parking lot beyond. You can’t help but watch as she races across the asphalt, thoughts of her own task left behind in a trail of her own tears. Badly muffled whispers start in earnest at the display. Chorused words of ‘wicked woman’ following you out onto the pavement. Tongues lashing into open wounds kept bleeding by your own shame. 
That pain is nothing in the wake of the familiar figure of a towering form.
He meets her halfway, hulking mass climbing out from the cab of a blackened range rover at the first sign of her obvious distress. From this far away you can only make out the sounds of heaving sobs, watch as dainty hands clutch the dark material of her protector, the furrow of his brow as he searches for answers to her suffering.
Whatever she responds, you find yourself once more snapped in place by the weight of his stare, looking no less worse for wear than the first time he did. 
Logic says the phantom tartness on your tongue is a hallucination ingrained from previous exposure, but the inner omega whining helplessly to be understood doesn’t comprehend the self inflicted wounds she scores with brittle claws at the first chance to taste. In many ways, designative instincts retain the innocence of youth: purely reactionary in their naive disregard. They’re doe-eyed five year olds holding up the mangled body of a broken baby bird and proclaiming ‘they can fix it’. To them, they don’t realize the damage that comes with wishing for a bite of lemon zest when they know that cupcake is theirs, deaf to the scolding of a parent who knows better. 
After all, what gives you the right to take what hasn’t been offered? For wishing for the comfort of an alpha’s scent that doesn’t belong to you? All it does is make you feel like the shameful thief the people in the shop think you are.
So you keep your distance from the alpha and his mate, once more stuck in a whirlwind of unintentional trouble. He’s too far away to make out the hues of his eyes, but his body language tells you exactly where he stands in all this. Fingers flexed in a possessive grip, the placement of his hand curled around her mid back, the subtle hunch he takes as he tucks her tearstained face beneath his covered chin.
A choice. 
Conceal. Protect. Intruder.
You once wondered at the outcome if you hadn’t run that night; if the call that beckoned you ‘wait’ had kept you rooted to the floor. How would this mammoth have reacted - the one who only watched in pure neutrality as your world crumbled apart? Would he have let his friend make the first move forward? Would there have been an altercation? Spoken words and awkward introductions such as with their Scottish brethren? Did they care about your cowardice? Did the alphas give you chase? Lose your scent in the produce aisle and catch their breaths in the crisp night air? 
At last you have your answer. 
The judgment he passes as he turns his back to you has far more gravitas than the mopey donkey on your fridge. The conjured images of morbidity that entertained you earlier this morning feels like a holiday in comparison to the way your arteries shrivel from necrosis; down another size and a half by Grinch standards.
(Would it ever grow again?)
Closing your eyes against the sight is all you can do to maintain your sanity.
“Lass!”
As if life hasn’t finished causing you torment enough, the rough brogue catching your ears has your eyes peeling back open, the depression gluttoning away at your insides taking note at the promise of further feast, cackling gleefully at the tousled mohawk rounding the the opposite side of the vehicle his companions are approaching. Concern sits heavy on his brow, footsteps sure of their path as the pair sidle up along the drivers side of their SUV, lemon shuffling his omega through the open door he holds and into the relative safety of the back seat. You expect John to join them – to fuss and coo over her the same way he did for you in the cafe. Your masochism soaks up the envy like a yorkshire pudding at Christmas dinner.
But he makes no move to join his mate, blazing a path that leads beyond.
It’s not her he’s calling out for. It’s you.
Something smothers in your chest at the meaty glove that yanks him backwards, the heft of his brawn outmatched by the iron grip stopping him from advancing any further, shoved back against the shiny black of the range rover. The suspension creaks from the sheer force of the impact, giving you a hint as to the momentum which was suddenly reversed and applied to the hull, vehicle tilting a few centimeters off its wheelbase before thudding back down to settle on its chassis.
Charged static fills the air as overwhelmingly as the growl ripped from their chest – from which alpha you aren’t sure. The palpable anger that must be flaring in their scent chokes those unfortunate few nearby into hurrying along, a group of teenagers giving wide berth as the old man a few cars over shoves something fragile into the boot with a telltale crunch, slamming the latch shut before climbing over his center console to the steering wheel from the opposite side. No one wants to get involved in pack business, much less find themselves collateral damage in a showdown between behemoths. 
Where lemon’s mouth is obscured, John’s isn’t, giving you unfiltered access to the snarl he spits up at the man a few inches taller than him. He makes his displeasure clear in a volume still too quiet for you to grasp, but his argument is apparent in the gesturing of his arms, the wildness matched by the heart he so clearly wears on his sleeve. His packmate stands in complete opposition to the outward show of aggression by the former, striking in his marble-like appearance, firm against the blunted chisel of whatever’s being discussed. The only sign that he’s participating comes in the form of the other’s interrupted pauses. 
Your thoughts turn to the omega inside overhearing all of this. The discontent she must feel down the bond from those she loves most has to be just as painful as the ability to hear the quarreling itself. What must she be going through–huddled alone in the shadows by herself–having to listen to what you assume is an argument over another woman… one that a mate is clearly defending?
What consumes her more? Is it rage? Betrayal? Anguish? Abandonment? Jealousy? Your heart goes out to her at this moment in a way you’re not sure her packmates are knowing or even empathetic to. 
You suddenly flinch as if being struck by the accusatory finger pointed in your direction by the up-until-now stoic alpha, nose to nose with a man he’s spent nights pressed even closer against. Whatever point he makes, there’s no rebuttal from the Scot this time – only a strained moment’s silence.
At last John shoves away the arm holding him, straightening his jacket with a look that says this isn’t over as his companion walks away to the driver’s side door. You don’t pay him further mind though as John huffs out his anger like a bull, raking a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze with far more softness. He sees it in your eyes the same way it reflects in his. Two pained apologies spoken without words.
Dark tint keeps you from seeing them as they enter the vehicle and drive off, peeling away with a nod to the discomfort inside but with enough self control to not endanger the ‘precious cargo’ in the back seat.
You knew the other day was too good to be true. It’s clear now the damage you’ve incurred in your foolish desire to forge a connection. The lies John told you to placate his unthinking selfishness. Why the radio silence has been deafening your apartment. 
Nothing is alright. Everything is broken. You’ve ruined god knows how many years of passion and devotion by the sole act of your own pathetic existence. 
You’ve robbed her of that–robbed them. Another reminder that they cannot give it to you. She has taken your place. They cannot claim another.
It’s your fault. Your fault.
Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault… 
You can’t breathe.
Something’s crawling up your throat. You can’t– 
As customers pass the threshold of the automatic glass doors, no one pays any mind to the sounds of retching in the dumpster.
Tumblr media
<< ✿ Previous ✿ <<
274 notes · View notes
wisteriagoesvroom · 3 months ago
Note
LOL I can imagine for vampire au Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident he can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else, and somehow he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb). Then also, if you don’t mind my ask, what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ?
HELP this is so cute. ok. norpinto-frando vampire au for those who aren't up to speed...
Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident, [Lando] can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else -> screaming cus, absolutely. random associated headcanons for this... i'll rewind a bit:
carlos is the oldest vampire, like, moorish/medieval era. he met lando while they were both at a masquerade ball in the early 1600s and smelled each other right away (carlos like wood and ink, lando like gas lamps and wet stone).
lando is an tudor era vampire. like he actually knew shakespeare and said he was one of the best viral marketers of the era
oscar was turned in the early days of the australian penal colony, he's like first or second generation white australian but he refuses to be called british. he moved in to the house because the rent was cheap and he doesn't feel the need to live extravagantly -- even though he, too, is $$ loaded $$
oscar didn't move in until about two decades ago - very short by vampire standards, to them it feels like yesterday - but carlos and oscar are basically They Were Roommates atp even though they squabble con-stant-ly
their neighbours think they are a new age-y polyam group but because the people who live opposite them are students, nobody ever hangs around longer than a year to remember them or dig deeper
so franco definitely brings a fun funky fresh dynamic
he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb) -> things that baby vamp!franco teaches lando include
tiktok trends, like how to make ur teeth comically large in photos. lando finds this hilarious
how to use venmo
creating a roster on google docs for who needs to do what house chores
jailbreaking an apple watch so it doesn't read their pulses (they don't have any), but it will remind them of the moon phases and when they might be extra hungry to feed
at one point franco actually puts his academic skills to use and helps lando hunt down some of his family tree, because since lando was turned and it's been so long, he doesn't remember much about them : ( so one of franco's little gifts to lando is helping him trace his heritage
what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ? -> i love how practical-minded you are. um well let's say this fictional supernatural creatures' market mostly runs on barter trades and goodwill agreements. the entire house sometimes just gets lazy tbh so lando or carlos will just dig into one of the old chests of random shit and pull out an antique and go: "do we think this is worth anything?" then they take it to an antiques dealer who is also a mage (alex albon) and there is a 1 in 25 chance that the antique is actually is worth something, so that bankrolls them for another half a year or whatever.
carlos makes a lot of noise about being "an art dealer" just because he sold a goya painting to a museum once.
oscar is a man of industry, of the "newer" world (australia) etc etc so he spent the 80s and 90s learning C++ and Java and Python so he legit just codes for a living. or when he feels like it. oscar has helped launch at least a dozen startups under various pseudonyms and one of them is even a blue chip company by now. he doesn't do it for money tho. he just does it cus he likes a challenge, and otherwise fights with carlos too much. when he isn't coding he likes to tinker and fix things just for fun. like, he legit knows how to fix a boiler and stuff. his familiar is definitely a grumpy orange neighbourhood cat.
franco keeps studying!! he is such a nerd that he's like "i can totally learn everything about anything now, and i could in theory do like 20 masters degrees, and nobody can stop me"!! then lando is like, "well you might get bored of it after a while or burn out". but franco insists he will not. in fact with his enhanced neurological abilities he goes on an academic bender trying to fast forward through an entire harvard's undergrad degree's worth of material in a week, and he ends up faceplanting on his desk. and then poor lando has to go and find a fresh chicken or something to kill and revive franco 'cus franco wore himself out too fast being a bb vampire with accelerated mind powers.
franco promises never to do that again (but of course he will continue to do it once in a while, and everyone still looks after him in his lil study hangovers because he is so very nice. also he taught them how to use venmo.)
and. one time. franco is like. "i can't find this rare sonnet do you know what library i could maybe locate it in" and lando is like "wait i know that one" and pulls out an honest to god original copy that he at some point got laminated in the early 80s. and franco is like. "um i think this should be in a museum??" and lando is like "yeah but i gave them a copy of this, cus i spilled ink on the corner of this in 1603 after a really good night out" and franco is like "???? ok ????"
then lando swans off to moodily stare at the moon or some shit.
60 notes · View notes
luxury-nightmare · 6 months ago
Text
Mom says it’s my turn on the writing
He knew something was wrong with that place the moment he took the job. The long narrow hallways bathed in red light, the screams of the patients who were just being ignored, the goggles that obscured the employees faces, making it hard to read their expressions.
The caretakers.
He shivered at the thought of them. He had taken this job out of necessity, not out of want. He was a starving artist by any use of the term, working on commercials, infographics, and other projects to make use of his degree, while his own project was shelved until he had enough money to start working on it.
He has never been particularly social, so when the asylum let him work alone with little to no human contact that was fine with him. The one person he did see on the regular was Alex, and intern who did the voice acting for the training tapes. They were nice enough, trying to talk with him despite his more, eccentric tendencies.
So when he got a call from an unknown number, he just assumed it was from them.
He was right, just not in the way he thought.
“Hello?” He said into the phone. “Oh Mort thank si-God you picked up” Alex’s voice was panicked and breathy. Mortimer raised an eyebrow. “Are you ok Alex?” He asked.
“Not particularly,” they replied, “I might need to stay at your place for a while, can I come over for a minute?”
Mortimer looked at his apartment. Half empty paint tubes and pencils covered in bite marks eclipsed every conceivable surface. An ink stain the size of Antarctica stained his rug, half covered by the papers that littered the floor. “Could I maybe get back to you on that?”
“No time, I’ll find somewhere else if you need it-“
“It’s fine I just need a minute to clean” Mort replied “talk later”
“Oh also there’s something you need to kno-“ Mortimer hung up. Jesus it’s been forever since he’s had a guest.
—————————————————
Alex arrived at his door, out of breath and clearly shaken by something. He looked at them, before gesturing for them to come inside. He had made the place look, less terrible than when he had gotten the call. “You’re a lifesaver Mort” Alex said. “Called you on my burner phone, didn’t know if you would pick up” they muttered to themself.
His eyes dropped to their hands, stained with ink in stripe like patches. He didn’t know they drew.
They turned back to Mortimer, concern in their eyes. “Hey, uh, Mort, there’s something I need to tell you-“
But before they could finish, Mortimer’s vision went weird, every color seemed too bright, and he was suddenly aware of how his clothes rubbed against his skin. The feeling that he was being watched came upon him like lightning, and he turned back towards the door.
Only to be met with a monstrous grin.
Do not trust anyone you see wearing this costume.
The creature was crouched over so it could fit in the doorway, wearing a costume both too big and too small for it. It’s body was thin and boney, dark as night like a rotten corpse drowned in ink, and crooked yellow eyes stared into his soul with hunger, like something out of a nightmare.
He stood, frozen in terror, eyes locked at this thing before him. He had drawn it so many times for the asylums tapes, but any familiarity that could’ve brought was washed away as his breath went ragged and ice rushed through his veins.
Dear lord this was why Alex was so scared on that phone call. They were being chased by that thing, and now they were both going to die. Why did Alex lead it here? Why did he do to deserve this? He shut his eyes tight, waiting for it to end.
“Yeah, I was trying to warn you,” Alex’s voice came from behind him. Mortimer whipped around, staring at them in confusion. “Clyde, this is Mortimer. Mortimer, this is Clyde”.
Mortimer turned back to the demon in his doorway in utterly shock. He watched as the demon rolled its eyes and moved past him with inhuman flexibility, only to stop at Alex’s side, tail curled around their wrist subconsciously.
“Do you think we were followed?” It asked Alex. God it’s voice grated on his ears like sandpaper, an overlapping cacophony stolen from so many different people.
But before Alex could respond, the screech of police sirens pierced the brief silence. Red and blue lights blinked outside Mortimer’s window, and a sense of panic rushed over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw police officers approaching the open door.
And in a split second, Mortimer made his decision.
He shut the door harshly and gestured to the closet down the hall. Both Alex and Clyde seemed to get the memo, rushing down the hall and piling into the closet. ”hey sir!” Mortimer opened the door again, looking the police officer in the eyes, praying to whatever higher entity their was that he didn’t notice how hard he was sweating.
Dear lord please don’t let him be dripping again
”we have been trailing a wanted criminal, and you two have shared some kind of connection, correct?” The officer questioned. “Nope, no, don’t know who you’re talking about?” Mortimer replied, perhaps a little too quickly. The officer raised an eyebrow.
“One Mx. Alex Willams. You two have worked together.” He stated. Mortimer cursed internally. He wasn’t buying this. “Oh the intern, yeah they voice acted for me a couple times, why?”
“They have been conspiring with the Eastridge demon.” The shock of that was still fresh in his mind, so he put on a convincing enough show of shock. “Do you have anything to do with this?”
“No, no, absolutely not. Don’t know a thing Mr. Officer Sir.” A look of suspicion crossed the officer’s face, and Mortimer’s heartbeat spiked.
“Hold on sir,” a second police officer walked up the the one at the door “this one is, probably not the greatest the interview. He’s a little” she twirled her finger around her head, the indication was clear, and Mortimer suppressed a growl. He know people judge him often, but at least they had the decency to do it behind his back.
The officer nodded and turned around “we’ll be in touch Mr. Gray”. Mortimer looked in relief as they walked back to their cars and drove away.
Mortimer shut his door and rushed to the closet, where Alex and the Demon were packed inside like sardines. The both fell out clumsily. Mortimer looked down at Alex, offering his hand, which Alex gladly took. Once they were back on their feet, Mortimer took a breath.
“Alex”
“What the fuck”.
Inspired by @slimeboygirlfriend fic “Starving artist” and this original idea came from @purplechaosguardian
I’m using this fic to set up some stuff for a later fic I wanna do.
remember what I wouldn’t let die on the old whiteboard?
48 notes · View notes
hockeyboysimagines · 11 months ago
Text
Sneak peeks!
You guys asked, so here they are.
Brock Boeser
“Hey.” Brock said softly. Shelby was tugging at the bottom hem of her T-shirt, one of his. Her hair was kinked from sleep, and the setting sunlight that filtered into his living room was hitting her just right. He gulped and tried not to look at her legs as she stood a few feet from him, leaned against the side of the wall.
“Did you sleep?”
She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rubbing her left leg against her right. The bruise near her eye was purple now but less swollen than he had thought it would be. She was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
“I’m uh-I’m going to sleep out here.” He gestured to the living room nervously taking a step forward “So uhm..I guess you need me this is where I’ll be.” He cleared his throat and felt a redness come to his face.
She bit her lip and nodded again. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes traveled up her long legs that disappeared into a canucks shirt. His name looked so good on her, and he was close enough that he could smell her perfume and it was making him lightheaded.
“Shelby?” He questioned softly. Her big eyes locked on to his, wide and sad but there was something else glimmering behind them he couldn’t quite identify.
Jamie oleksiak
“Well it’s late....or rather early I guess?” He said checking the time on his phone, before standing and stretching. She dumped the remainder of their wine down the drain and followed him to the door.
“This was nice.” He said leaning on the door frame, hands in his pockets, small smile on his face. She felt a little shiver go through her as she stopped in front of him.
“It was.” She nodded looking at her feet “But Jamie, what was this?” She chuckled a little.
“This was just...what it was. “
“ I see.” She said. The shoulder of her cardigan had slipped down revealing a tattooed shoulder, and before he could stop himself he reached forward and let his fingers graze over the lines inked on her skin. She watched his hand as it slid down her arm, gripping the cardigan and pulling it back up her shoulder. Her heartbeat picked up in her chest, as he took a step forward his other hand reaching forward to push her hair off her shoulder, strands tickling her skin. Her eyes closed at his touch, heat pooling in her stomach.
When she opened them she found him extremely close to her, body almost pressed up against her. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.
“Jamie.”
Jeremy Swayman
“I’ve never had many girl friends, Just Kelsey and V, You know that.” She frowned a little and turned to him stirring her drink “Why do you think that is?”
He shrugged and leaned forward pursing his lips “I don’t know. Being too nice, too beautiful? Girls can be pretty jealous.”
She shook her head and smiled “I don’t think I’m that nice and I’m definitely not too beautiful-“
“I think you’re HOT.” He said loudly cutting her off and leaning forward.
The alcohol had numbed his senses and loosened him up more than she’d ever seen him. Things he wouldn’t normally say to her were coming out, and she kind of liked it. Even though they’d known each other for a long time by now, he was still a little bit shy with her.
But this was a whole new Jeremy.
“Really?” She said raising an eyebrow.
“Come on.” He said with a smile, and a small chuckle “You know you are.” Then he frowned “You-you know you’re attractive…right?”
She shrugged “I don’t really think about that stuff. And even if I am it’s never gotten me anywhere.” She paused and then smiled a little “Except on dates with every idiot in Anchorage.”
“Not on any dates with me.” He said taking a sip of his drink and eyeing her.
Arber Xhekaj
“That’s Tabitha’s ex boyfriend.” Alex whispered under her breath to Ashley.
Ashley looked at him appreciatively before turning to her “Why is he your ex boyfriend looking like that?”
“Because he’s a fucking douche. Wanna take him for a ride. He’ll ruin your life.” Tabitha was glaring at him as he walked towards the bar, eyes never leaving hers, even while he spoke to the bartender and gestured at her. She watched as the bartender made what appeared to be her favorite drink and made her way over but Tabitha stopped her before she could reach their table.
“Sorry to waste your time, but I don’t want that. Tell him to choke on it.” The girl looked at her awkwardly and made her way back behind to bar but Tabitha saw that Arber was nowhere to be found.
She craned her neck around looking for him jumping a little when she felt a voice in her ear.
“Playing hard to get tonight?”
She leaned away from him “Only from you. What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Celebrating being single.”
He glanced around and then smiled “Looks like a pretty sad celebration. I haven’t seen a guy over here all night.”
Tabitha felt her face get red, mostly because he was right. She’d been pouting in the booth all night, her worst bitch face on, hoping no one would approach her. The idea of some new guy in her life gave her the ick.
“I think we both know you’re going home with me and not someone else.”
“You wish.”
Let me know what you’re excited for and how you like these!
67 notes · View notes
hallowedfate · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter One— The Hunter's Code
Tumblr media
Lighting crashed as the tall dark figure returned from a mission, a fierce storm raged around them. The wind whipped through their pale blue hair and rain soaked through their clothes. Water dripping into their face, streaming off from their hat. They struggled against the elements as they made their way back to the old abandoned shack they called home. Which was falling apart but still served as a home for them and their daughter, Naomi.
As they stepped inside, water dripped from their coat onto the wooden floorboards. Alex sighed as took their dark hat off and shook the rain off their hair. Hanging up their soaked hat and trenchcoat as they looked around the dimly lit room. Only a small lamp on the nightstand cast a soft glow around the space. They unlaced their muddy boots and kicked them off, quietly walking to their room.
Alex sat in their room, the soft plush of their bed sinking as their weight was applied. They let out another soft sigh, closing their crimson colored eyes before turning over to their bedside table. The only few things accompanying it was an old, nearly burnt out oil lamp, and an even older leader-bound book. They reached a hand out to the book and gripped it gently, sitting up and setting it in their lap. Flipping through the pages of the old book. Thunder rumbled in the distance, punctuating the silence of the night.
The book was one of many that Alex had collected over the years, each one containing information on a different creature of the night. The pages were worn, the ink slightly faded, stained with whatever oil, grease and water that plagued the whole book. As they read, quietly to themselves, their focus was broken by the voice of a soft little girl.
"Daddy, daddy! Guess what?" Naomi exclaimed, bursting into the room with excitement.
Alex looked up from their book, smiling at their daughter. "What is it, kiddo?"
"You have a new mission!" Naomi exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what is it?"
Naomi grinned. "Here!" The little girl said with excitement, running over to her dad with a small wax sealed letter. The red wax was stamped into the figure of a raven, the symbol of their guilds clergy.
As the grown adult opened the letter and read it through fully, a soft smile grew on their daughters face. Excited to hear what her dad was ready to take out next.
Alex chuckled. "Sounds like fun."
Naomi nodded eagerly. "I know, I know. But what is it?" She asked.
"It's a request from a very wealthy merchant, apparently, the church in their village is being bothered by the undead. Can you believe it?" Alex asked as they smiled, their daughter nearly jumping in excitement.
"Are you gonna kill a vampire? Or a ghoul? Oh maybe a witch!" The little blonde girl gleemed with joy, her twin tails bouncing as she moved around. Then her soft blue eyes opened widely, she then turned to her dad.
"Daddy, stay here, okay?" Before Alex could even speak, she ran off to her room. Earning another chuckle.
Alex let out a deep sigh and closed the book. They were exhausted, and they could feel the fatigue weighing heavily on their shoulders. They leaned back against the wall near their bed and closed their eyes for a moment, trying to find the energy to continue reading.
Just then, Naomi burst back into the room, holding a small necklace in her hand. "Daddy, look what I made!" she exclaimed, holding it out for the to see.
Alex took the necklace and examined it closely. It was made of twine, with a small jar at the center, sealed with wax. Inside the jar was a clove of garlic.
"This is a protective bottle, Daddy," Naomi explained, excitement evident in her voice. "I read about it in one of your books. It's supposed to ward off vampires and keep us safe. I made it myself!"
Alex smiled at their daughter's enthusiasm. "That's very thoughtful of you, Naomi," they said, placing the necklace around his neck. "But we still have to be careful. Vampires are dangerous creatures, and we need to make sure we're fully prepared before we face one."
Naomi nodded solemnly. "I know, Daddy. But I just wanted to make sure you had something to keep you safe."
Alex pulled their daughter into a tight hug, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. Despite the danger that surrounded them, they knew that with Naomi by their side, they could face anything. Before breaking off the hug, the gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek, earning a soft giggle from her.
Alex ruffled their daughter's hair. "You're getting to be quite the little hunter, aren't you?"
Naomi beamed with pride. "Yep! And I'm gonna be the best hunter ever, just like you!"
Alex smiled, their heart swelling with love for their daughter. "I have no doubt you will be, kiddo. Now go get ready for bed, I'll start cooking dinner soon."
Naomi nodded and ran off to her room, As she got dressed for bed, she couldn't help but think about the necklace and how it could protect them from vampires.
Meanwhile, Alex continued to read through the book, taking notes on the vampire they were tasked to eliminate. The storm outside continued to rage on, with flashes of lightning illuminating the room. Eventually they got up from their bed and walked over to their tall bookshelf, filled to the brim with many bindings of stories, information and navigation. Pulling out one for the village requested.
Alex found the book on the requested village, Riverwood and began flipping through the pages. The village was small, with only a few dozen homes and a central square. Located on the northern side of the region, meaning they'd have to travel a few days to get there. The main focus of the village was the large stone church, which had been there for centuries. It was said that the church had been built to ward off evil spirits that plagued the area.
The church had a tall steeple that reached towards the sky, with large stained glass windows depicting religious scenes. The churchyard was surrounded by a low stone wall, and a gate that was always kept locked. Beyond the church, there were fields of crops and small farms. The villagers were known for their hospitality, and were always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need.
As Alex read on, they learned that there were also abandoned ruins nearby that were said to be haunted by the spirits of those who had died there. The ruins were once a grand castle, but had fallen into disrepair over the years. Many had tried to explore the ruins, but had been scared off by strange noises and unexplained occurrences.
Alex took note of these ruins, figuring that they would have to venture into those ruins to find the vampire they were seeking. But they knew to explore and ask for more information before jumping to conclusions. They walked back over to their bed, keeping the book open on the page of the village. Then they walked out of their room, crossing the small living area into the kitchen. The room was tiny and cramped, but Alex had managed to make the most of it.
Grabbing a few potatoes from a sack on the floor as they passed by. They started peeling the potatoes, their mind still focused on the task at hand. As they worked, they thought about the ruins and the vampire that awaited them. They couldn't afford to underestimate the creature, but they also couldn't let fear cloud their judgment.
The storm outside continued to rage on, the sound of rain tapping against the windows filling the room. Alex took comfort in the familiar sounds of cooking - the sizzling of oil in the pan, the chopping of vegetables, the clinking of utensils against pots and pans. It was a small reminder of the simple joys of life that they often took for granted in the midst of their dangerous work.
As they finished peeling the potatoes and started cutting them into small cubes, They pulled out a pot and started filling it with water to boil. As they waited for the water to heat up, they started chopping up some vegetables and meat to add to the pot.
Alex loved cooking, it was one of the few things that brought them peace in a chaotic world. As they cooked, they hummed a soft tune to themselves, lost in thought. The storm outside had started to die down, the rain now just a light drizzle tapping against the window. Their thoughts were broken once more when they heard the sound of Naomi running down the hallway. "Dinner ready yet, Daddy?" she asked eagerly.
"No sweetheart, not yet, can you go set the table for me?" Alex asked softly, their daughter nodded, running off to the small cabinet they called a closet. It wasn't even big enough to be a pantry, just enough to fit a table cloth, some dishes and utensils.
After adding the vegetables and meat, Alex pulled out a small jar of spices from the cabinet above and added a pinch of this and a dash of that, carefully measuring out the ingredients. They knew that cooking was a science, and a slight variation in ingredients could make all the difference. However they didn't have much to work with.
As the stew simmered on the stove, filling the small shack with a delicious aroma, Alex couldn't help but smile. They knew that despite the dangers of their job, they were lucky to have a home and a family to come back to. Leaving the stew alone for a moment, they went back to their room to retrieve the notes they had taken on the vampire they were hunting. They walked over to their bed, picking up up their notes on the vampire. Stacking the books on top of each other without closing them. With a quick glance, they confirmed that they had everything they needed to know about the creature, from its weaknesses to its strengths.
Alex carefully carried the notes to the kitchen, taking care not to set them too close to the pot, in fear that the hot liquid would spill all over them as they went. Satisfied, Alex headed back to the old iron stove and stirred the stew. They added the potatoes to the pot and stirred them in, the aroma of the simmering stew growing stronger. As they waited for the stew to finish cooking,
It wasn't long before Naomi came bounding into the room, "Daddy, is dinner almost ready? I finished setting up the table." she asked eagerly.
Alex chuckled. "Almost, kiddo. But it's not quite done yet."
Naomi pouted, "Aww, I'm hungry now! Can't we just eat it as it is?"
Alex shook their head. "No, we have to let it simmer for a little longer. It'll taste much better that way. Why don't you go wash your hands and I'll show you notes on the village I have to go to You can help me plan for my next mission."
Naomi's face lit up, "Really? Can I help plan with you?"
"Of course, you can. We're a team, remember?" Alex said, ruffling her hair affectionately.
Naomi nodded eagerly and ran off to wash her hands. Alex smiled to themselves, feeling grateful for their daughter's enthusiasm and support, for their daughter and the warmth of their home. They grabbed their notes and a pencil and headed back to the kitchen table, ready to start planning their next adventure together. Once they placed their items down, they returned to the stove.
Alex couldn't help but think about the abandoned ruins they had read about. As they stirred the stew, they wondered what kind of creatures might be lurking in the shadows of the ruins. "I'll have to invest in some new weapons soon, maybe a crossbow with my longsword?" Alex mused out loud.
Naomi's eyes widened. "Can I come with you, Daddy?" she asked, her excitement evident in her voice.
Alex hesitated for a moment, considering the danger that lay ahead. "I'm sorry, kiddo," Alex said gently. "But it's too dangerous for you to come with me. Maybe when you're older and more experienced, we can go on a mission together. It's important that you stay here and take care of the house while I'm gone," Alex replied, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.
Naomi's face fell, but she nodded in understanding. "Okay, Daddy. But promise me you'll come back safe and sound," she said, giving Alex's leg a tight hug. They couldn't help but smile and gently pat her head, waving her off a few moments later to go sit down.
With a deep breath, Alex turned off the stove and poured the stew into a bowl. They took a spoon and tasted it, savoring the warmth and flavor. They knew that Naomi was going to love it, and they couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she took the first bite.
After placing a new bowl on the table, Alex turned to see Naomi already sitting in her chair, her legs dangling off the seat. "Smells yummy, Daddy!" she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
Alex smiled, feeling a wave of love for their daughter. "It's hot, so be careful. I'll get you some bread to go with it," they said, reaching for the loaf on the counter. Something they stole just a day ago from another mission.
Naomi nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on the bowl. As Alex sliced the bread and placed it on a plate, they couldn't help but think about the danger that lay ahead in the abandoned ruins. They knew they had to be careful and plan their next move. But for now, they were grateful for this moment with their daughter and the warmth of the stew on a cold, stormy night.
Alex served up dinner, a simple meal of warm stew, potatoes and vegetables. Chattering about the mission, Naomi eagerly dug into her meal, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the delicious flavors.
"This is so good, Daddy!" she exclaimed, taking another spoonful. "But you know what would make it even better? If we added some garlic to it! Garlic can kill vampires, you know."
Alex couldn't help but chuckle at Naomi's innocent suggestion. "Thanks for the tip, kiddo. I'll keep that in mind next time."
Naomi couldn't help but think about how their dad was going to defeat the vampire. "Maybe you can hit it with a really big stick!" she exclaimed, waving her spoon in the air for emphasis.
Alex chuckled. "Well, that might not be the best idea. But I'll figure something out."
"But what if you smack it realllyyyyy hard with a super huge stick!" Naomi suggested with a laugh.
Alex shook their head, smiling. "I don't think that would work either, kiddo. Vampires are tough creatures. But I appreciate the enthusiasm and creativity."
Naomi grinned, taking another spoonful of stew. "Well, maybe you could put garlic on the stick, or holy water!" she said, excitedly.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "That's actually not a bad idea. Garlic and holy water are both known to weaken vampires. I'll have to keep that in mind."
"Seeeeee! I told you I could help." Naomi said proudly.
Alex smiled. "Of course, kiddo. Now finish up dinner, it's past your bedtime."
After dinner, Alex tucked Naomi into bed and kissed her forehead. "I have something important to tell you kiddo."
Naomi's eyes widened as she looked up at her dad. "What is it, Daddy?" she asked, curious.
"I have to go away for a few days on a mission. But don't worry, there's plenty of food here for you and you'll be just fine on your own," Alex explained.
Naomi's face fell slightly, but she understood that her dad had an important job to do. "Okay, Daddy. But please come back soon," she said, her voice slightly trembling. "But what if a monster gets me when you're not here?" She asked fearfully.
"It's never happened before has it?"
"No.."
"See, my point kiddo."
Alex smiled reassuringly. "I'll be back before you know it. Goodnight dear, Sleep tight, kiddo," they said softly. With one last hug, Alex quietly slipped out of Naomi's room before turning off the lamp and closing the door.
Alex then returned to their own bed, bringing their many notes with them. Studying them for a few seconds before setting them down, and starting to quickly packed their bag, making sure to bring along all necessary equipment for the mission. As they moved about the small shack, their demeanor changed. The warmth and affection they had shown earlier disappeared, replaced by a cold and calculating personality. They were all business now, focused solely on the task at hand. The storm outside had picked up again, the wind howling through the cracks in the walls, The rain pounding against the roof of the shack.
As they finished packing, Alex turned to Naomi's room one last time. In a silent way of reminding themselves on why to return alive, nodding to themselves gently. Alex grabbed their still wet jacket and hat, covering themselves before they left the shack, stepping out into the raging storm. The wind whipped around them, rain pelting down hard against their coat. But they were used to this, having been on countless missions before. They looked at their small map before heading towards the village, determined to find the vampire and eliminate it.
As they walked, their thoughts were solely on the mission. The warmth of the shack and their family seemed like a distant memory now. They couldn't afford to let their guard down, not even for a moment.
Tumblr media
Finally arriving at the village that morning, Alex immediately went to work, asking around for information on the vampire. Alex approached a common villager who was sweeping the front of their small cottage. "Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about the vampire that's been sighted in this area?" Alex asked in a direct manner.
The villager paused their sweeping and looked up at Alex, sizing them up before responding. "Aye, I've heard talk of such a creature. It's said to lurk in the ruins outside the village," the villager replied.
Alex nodded, taking notes as the villager continued to speak. "Have you seen anything out of the ordinary around here lately?" Alex asked.
The villager shook their head. "Nay, I haven't seen anything myself. But I've heard tell of missing livestock and strange noises coming from the ruins at night," the villager said.
"Thank you for your time," Alex said, before moving on to speak with other villagers.
Alex continued to ask around about the vampire, gathering as much information as possible. They spoke to a young woman who was tending to her garden, who told them about the disappearances of several travelers on the road outside of the village.
Next, they approached a group of older men sitting outside of a tavern. They spoke in hushed tones about a strange figure that they had seen lurking in the shadows at night, and how they had heard rumors of a cursed tomb nearby. Alex noted to ignore the cursed tomb rumors, as nothing of it was mentioned until now.
As Alex made their way through the village, they caught sight of a group of knights in the distance. Approaching them, Alex could see the stern look on their faces and the glint of their armor in the dim light.
"Excuse me, sirs," Alex said, approaching them cautiously. "I'm searching for information about a vampire that may be in the area. Have you heard anything?"
The knights exchanged a look before one of them spoke up. "We've heard rumors, yes. But we've yet to confirm any sightings or attacks. We've been patrolling the area, but we haven't come across anything out of the ordinary."
Alex nodded, taking note of their response. "Thank you, sirs. I appreciate your time."
As they turned to leave, one of the knights called out. "Be careful out there, traveler. The night is dark and full of terrors."
Alex made their way to the church, a towering structure that dominated the village center. As they entered the holy building, they felt a sense of reverence wash over them. They walked up to the altar where a man in a white robe turned to face them. "Greetings, my child. What brings you to our church today?" he asked.
"I am searching for information about a vampire," Alex said, their voice stern and business-like.
The man's expression shifted, his brows furrowing. "A vampire, you say? That is a dangerous creature to be hunting."
Alex remained unfazed. "I am aware of the danger, but it is my duty to protect this village and its people."
The man regarded Alex with a stern expression. "Vampires are an abomination in the eyes of the Lord," he said in a deep voice. "We must do all we can to rid the world of these foul creatures."
Alex nodded in agreement with a bored expression. "Do you have any information that could help me track down this particular vampire?" they asked.
The man thought for a moment, then spoke in a hushed tone. "There have been rumors of a powerful vampire who resides in a nearby castle. Some say that he is in league with the devil himself, and that he cannot be killed by normal means."
Alex rolled their eyes in annoyance, talk of God and the church always made them sick, but they remained determined. "Thank you for your help, sir," they said before leaving the church.
Alex finished their conversation with the priest, feeling a mixture of relief and skepticism. They knew that they couldn't rely solely on the information they received and that they would have to see for themselves.
As Alex listened to each person, their cold and blunt personality became more and more evident. They didn't waste time on pleasantries or small talk, cutting right to the heart of the matter. The weather outside had picked up once again, the wind howling and the rain pouring down in sheets. But Alex paid it no mind, their focus solely on the task at hand. With a determined expression on their face, Alex began the trek towards the ruins.
As they walked, the wind began to pick up, making the journey more difficult. Alex's coat flapped wildly around them, and they pulled their hat down a bit to shield their face from the biting cold. Despite the harsh conditions, Alex refused to slow down. They were too close to their goal to be deterred by a little bad weather.
Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, Alex reached the outskirts of the ruins. They paused for a moment, taking in the eerie atmosphere of the abandoned buildings. The air was thick with a sense of foreboding. But they didn't let their fear get the best of them. Steeling themselves, Alex took a deep breath and stepped into the area of the ruins, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
As Alex walked towards the ruins, the landscape changed. The ground grew muddier, and the air became colder and wetter. The ruins themselves were imposing and eerie, with crumbling walls and broken columns that hinted at a grander past.
The ruins were surrounded by a dense forest, and the trees seemed to close in on Alex, casting strange shadows that made it difficult to see. Despite the chill and the dampness, there was a stillness in the air that was almost oppressive. It felt as if the ruins were holding their breath, waiting for something.
As Alex approached the entrance, they could see that the door was partially ajar, and there was a musty smell coming from within. The ruins were dark, but Alex could just make out the outline of a long hallway stretching ahead of them. The silence was broken only by the sound of water dripping from the ceiling, and the occasional rustle of a small animal scurrying across the floor.
Alex felt a chill run down their spine, but they didn't let it bother them. They knew that they were getting closer to their target, but they couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The ruins felt like a place where secrets were kept, and the air was thick with mystery and danger. They kept their guard up, waiting to be attacked at any minute as they kept walking through the old buildings.
As Alex made their way deeper into the ruins, they suddenly heard a haunting sounds of fast footsteps in the distance. The sound was airy, like the creature was just barely touching the ground, drawing them closer to its source. As they turned a corner, they found a ghoul balancing on some rubble, he then sat down, turning to the hunter with a smirk.
"Hello there, pretty boy," The demon greeted Alex, twirling a strand of his hair with a gloved hand. "What brings you to these ruins? Looking for something? Or someone?" He paused, studying Alex's face with his piercing red eyes. "Or maybe you're just lost."
Alex frowned, unamused by the mocking tone. "I'm here on a mission," they said curtly, keeping their voice low. "I don't have time for your games."
The ghoul chuckled, his wings fluttering behind him. "Oh, but games are what make life interesting, don't you think?" He continued, staring down at Alex.
Alex asked bluntly. "Are you a danger to the people?"
Sage chuckled. "Me? A danger? Please, all I do is play harmless pranks on the nuns. Nothing that would hurt anyone. And besides, I can help you find the vampire."
Alex narrowed their eyes at him, skeptical of his intentions. "What exactly do you gain from playing tricks on nuns, demon?" they asked, crossing their arms.
Sage shrugged, his wings fluttering behind him. "Just a little harmless fun. It's not like I'm hurting anyone," he said with a grin.
Alex wasn't convinced, but they couldn't deny that the ghoul might be of some use in finding the vampire. "Fine," they said begrudgingly. "But don't think I'm letting my guard down around you."
The ghoul laughed, twirling his hair slightly. "Oh, hunter, you wound me. I'm just here to help," he said with a sly smile.
Alex raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Why would you want to help?"
The ghoul shrugged. "Boredom!"
Alex rolled their eyes, motioning for the demon to follow them. Despite their reservations, Alex couldn't deny that having creature's help could be beneficial. "Alright, but no funny business," they warned.
He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."
As they continued walking, the ghoul couldn't help but make small talk with Alex. "So, what's your name? You never told me," he said with a mischievous grin.
"Crimson," they responded, trying to remain focused on the task at hand, not giving out their legal name but their given name. One only used during work.
The demon nodded, "Ah, Crimson, I like that name but I have a small feeling you're lying to me. However it's easy to remember. Do you like my name? I'm Sage, by the way."
Alex didn't respond, simply nodding and continuing to walk. Sage persisted, "You know, I've been around here for a while now, I know this area like the back of my hand. Maybe I could help you find what you're looking for. I'm quite good at tracking."
Alex finally spoke up, "We're looking for a vampire, Sage. It's not a game or a prank. It's dangerous, and we need to take it seriously."
Despite this, Sage couldn't resist trying to make small talk a few more times, until Alex finally snapped at him to focus on the mission at hand.
As Sage and Alex continue their conversation, there is a feeling of being watched that lingers in the air. The trees rustle and the wind howls, but it's not just nature. Every now and then, a branch snaps or a twig crunches in the distance, sending shivers down their spines.
As they walk deeper into the ruins, the sense of being watched only grows stronger. Sage continues to chatter on, seemingly oblivious to the unease in the air, but Alex is on high alert. They can't shake the feeling that something dangerous is lurking in the shadows, watching their every move.
Alex quickly reached out and grabbed Sage's arm, pulling him to a stop. "Shut up for a few moments." Alex whispered, their eyes scanning the darkness around them. Sage rolled their eyes in slight amusement.
"What scared the vampire is gonna get you? Oooo I'm so scared—" Sage was cut off by Alex slapping their hand over his mouth.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the sight of a dark figure emerging from the shadows. It was the vampire they had been hunting, and it had been stalking them.
Without warning, the vampire launched itself at Alex with blinding speed, its fangs bared and ready to strike. Alex raised their longsword in defense, the sharp blade glinting in the moonlight. As the undead went to bite them, Alex stuck their sword in front of them. Causing the vampire to bite the blade, hissing came from the beast.
The two clashed, the sound of metal against flesh echoing through the ruins. Blood sprayed as the vampire slashed at Alex with its sharp claws, but Alex fought back fiercely, their own attacks precise and deadly. Attacking like a well strung puppet dancing to it's masters commands.
The battle was brutal and unforgiving, both combatants fighting with all their might. Sage watched in surprise as the vampire began to gain the upper hand for a few seconds, tearing into Alex's clothes, just barely scratching their flesh.
But just when it seemed all was lost, Alex struck the final blow, plunging their longsword deep into the vampire's chest. The creature let out a guttural scream before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching as it bled out. Alex quickly took their sword out of its chest and slashed at its neck, making sure the creature was dead.
Alex breathed heavily, before turning to Sage, who was looking at them with an amused expression. "What's so funny?" Alex asked, their sword still gripped tightly in their hand.
"I found the vampire." Sage said in a smartass tone, pointing to the corpse. Alex sighed in annoyance.
"More like I found the vampire, jackass." Alex commented.
Sage chuckled. "You're quite the fighter, aren't you? It's almost entertaining to watch."
Alex's expression hardened. "This is no laughing matter. That vampire was dangerous and could have killed us both."
Sage shrugged. "I know, I know. But you have to admit, it was kind of exciting. And besides, we both made it out alive, didn't we? Well, you did, I'm already dead so it doesn't matter to me."
Alex couldn't help but feel annoyed by Sage's nonchalant attitude towards the situation. "This is not a game, Sage. People's lives are at stake."
Sage's expression softened for a few moments before the smile returned. "I know, I'm sorry. I understand the seriousness of the situation."
Alex nodded, slightly appeased by Sage's offer. "Fine. But from now on, take this seriously. Lives are on the line."
Sage gave them a mock salute. "Yes, sir! I'll be on my best behavior."
Alex rolled their eyes again and quickly cracked their sword to the side, the blood from the vampire splattering onto the floor. Cleaning the blade as the hunter scowled slightly in disgust.
Together, the two hurried out of the ruins, the duo parting ways.
Tumblr media
As Alex approached the doorstep of their beat up home, they could hear the faint sound of Naomi giggling from inside. The sound was like music to their ears after three days of traveling and fighting. Alex's hand shook slightly as they reached out to open the door.
As soon as they stepped inside, Naomi came running towards them with open arms, shouting "Daddy!" Alex scooped her up into their arms, feeling her warm embrace and taking in the familiar scent of their home.
"How was your mission, Daddy?" Naomi asked, looking up at them with big bright eyes.
"It was long and tiring, but I got the job done, no more evil vampires bothering the village." Alex replied with a tired smile.
Naomi nodded understandingly, and then added, "I missed you so much."
Alex's heart swelled with warmth at Naomi's words. They realized how much they had missed her too. They hugged her tightly, feeling grateful for their safe return home.
As they settled back into their home routine, Alex felt the warmth of their family personality returning. The memories of their dangerous mission slowly faded away, replaced by the comfort and joy of their peaceful home.
As they lay in bed that night, Alex felt grateful for their family and the love they shared. They knew they had to repeat the same process once again, but they also knew that their family would always be their safe haven, a place to return to and find comfort in. Soon they closed their eyes, drifting off into much needed slumber.
Tumblr media
The next morning, Alex heard a knock from the front door as they were cooking breakfast. Alex wiped their hands on a ragged cloth before heading to the door. As they opened it, they saw Sage standing outside, holding a small bag.
"Good morning, my dear friend! I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Sage said with a grin as he entered the house without waiting for an invitation.
Alex felt slightly annoyed at Sage's intrusion, but they didn't want to be rude while their daughter was around. They gestured for Sage to sit at the table while they finished making breakfast. Naomi looked up at Sage with curiosity in her eyes, and Sage smiled back at her.
"What's in the bag, Sage?" Alex asked as they set the breakfast on the table.
"Just a few trinkets I found on my travels. I thought you and Naomi might enjoy them," Sage replied, pulling out a few small crystals and handing them to Naomi.
Alex immediately froze up, grabbing the cold ghoul and dragging him to the next room.
"How the hell do you know about her? She doesn't leave this house, how did you even find me??" Alex questioned with venom dripping from their voice.
"I followed you home last night dummy! What else?"
Alex then rolled their eyes and let go of Sage, pushing him out of the room before smiling softly at their daughter, seeing her unphased by the ghoul in front of her.
Naomi's eyes lit up with excitement as she examined the crystals in her small hands. But even more so she was excited to see a real ghoul at her kitchen table.
"Thank you, Sage. That's very thoughtful of you," Alex said, their annoyance dissipating slightly.
Sage grinned widely, "Anything for my friends!"
As they ate breakfast, Sage made himself comfortable in their home. He chatted with Naomi, showing her a few tricks with his snake and telling her some funny stories. Alex kept a watchful eye on the two of them, but smiled seeing Naomi so happy.
Naomi ran up to Alex, hugging him tightly. "Daddy, who is this man?" she asked, eyeing Sage. Alex shot Sage a look, to which he just shrugged.
"You didn't bother introducing yourself, whatever. This is Sage, a friend of mine," Alex said, tousling Naomi's hair. "He's a bit of a troublemaker, so watch out."
Sage laughed. "Hey, I'm not that bad," he protested, but the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.
Alex couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected company. It was rare for them to have visitors, and even rarer for them to let their guard down and enjoy himself. For once, they could forget about the dangers and uncertainties of their world and just enjoy the moment.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
pandoricpies · 4 years ago
Text
Evil Fripp AU: Part 1
Based off of a post by @rebecawolfforest because idea overload; Avalon confronts Fripp about his suspicious practices
This was it. It was all or nothing. The man had finally made up his mind. He was done being complacent, done being threatened by a creature who barely measured up to his shin. It was time.
However comforting these thoughts seemed, they were as fickle as foolish hopes could be. Avalon wasn’t an idiot; he knew what the small blue squirrel was capable of - manipulation, mind control, torture. It came as no surprise to him that none of his fellow druids had attempted to do the very thing he was about to. Well, except one.
His brother had tried this before. The young man of twenty-three had grown tired of their supposed ‘leader’s’ shady practices and decided to take matters into his own hands. Of course, Avalon agreed his brother was dangerous. He recklessly researched and used unknown magic - dangerous magic. His carelessness however was not what earned him his banishment.....
He asked too many questions.
Avalon shivered in the cold evening breeze, shaking off these intruding thoughts. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as his idiot older brother. He wouldn’t storm into Fripp’s Chamber, demand answers, and threaten the creature to get them. Instead, he would enter with a level head and calmly lay out his concerns to Fripp. The man was content in knowing he had the resources to fight back if the need surfaced.
Avalon continued his way up the rather steep incline to the entrance of the Secret Stone Circle, keeping an eye out for the beginning of the circular path. He averted his eyes from the small cottage placed at the side of the path. The man swore he could still smell that sweet perfume she always wore.
His feet finally began to follow the swirling path that would manifest the entrance portal. Undeniable nerves began to brew inside him. He knew Fripp wouldn’t appreciate the sudden traitorous behavior. His intent ruled over it all though; he needed to save those girls.
Those girls, those teenage girls, the one’s entrusted with saving an entire island. They needed to be worried about passing a history test, not demon squid monsters and psychotic old men. Avalon was determined not to let these ones fall through the cracks, not let the madness tear their friendship apart....
Not let him tear them apart.
The familiar soft twinkle of the portal began to grow louder as he made the final turns. Avalon stopped, staring at the pink portal as if it were a ticket to another life. This would certainly change his. With one last deep breath, he entered the magical gateway.
A cold shiver ran up his spine as he was teleported to the large stone circle, his feet finding the hard ground. Gathering his bearings, he took a look around the circle, his eyes scanning feverishly for the little blue creature. Fripp wasn’t there - he must be in his chamber.
Avalon sighed nervously, feeling the sweat grow in his palms. The worst was yet to come. He made his way over to the green portal, the portal that would take him to the creature - and his fate.
Here goes nothing.
After another trip through time and space, Avalon finally saw his target. Fripp was sitting at his desk, propped up on five lavishly decorated pillows. He looked up, a twitch of his nose the only indication that he recognized Avalon’s presence.
“Fripp, I’d like a word.” Avalon started, clearing his throat after speaking. He didn’t want to sound nervous. Show the first sign of weakness and that squirrel would be all over it.
“Hm?” Fripp squeaked, not taking his big brown eyes off of the old book in front of him.
“I’m here to inquire about the girls. Specifically Joana (MC) and furthering her training.” He explained. Avalon mentally punched himself - he was starting too passively.
“What of it? I’ve told you I will train her when I’m ready.” The creature finally looked up, eyes glaring at the man.
“All I’m saying is, the longer we let her go without the proper training, the more we run the risk of an accident. I’m sure you-“
“And are you implying that I allow you to train her? After what happened with the last one?” Fripp spoke, the spite evident in his voice. He loved to bring that up.
“I-No, I’m not. I’m simply advising that we take the measures necessary to ensure the safety of her and the other soul riders.” Avalon spoke through gritted teeth, unpleasant memories flooding his mind.
“I’d suggest you leave the advising to the high druids.” Fripp said condescendingly, waving his paw at the man as to dismiss him. This only fueled Avalon’s anger.
“I didn’t just come here to talk about them Fripp. I’ve come to discuss the rest of your recent doings. From sending young, untrained apprentices to do your bidding- not to mention the fact that you pin those girls against each other, telling Anne she’s excelling wonderfully and bitterly dismissing Alex, it’s wrong!” Avalon exclaimed, his voice louder and more dominating. The blue squirrel looked up at him, closing the book with his magic. He hopped from the tower of pillows to a side pillar, then onto a high bookshelf - just to be above Avalon.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. I have reasoning behind my actions.” He turned his nose up at the man, little arms folded across his chest.
“Damnit Fripp! You really think I’m that blind? I know exactly what you’re up to! The secret meetings, the unaddressed letters with a ‘DC’ written in small black ink in the corner, your shallow response to the accident-“ Avalon was cut off abruptly by sharp pressure at the back of his skull. He heard heavy breathing from behind.
“Are you suggesting you’ve been going through my mail?” Fripp asked, his voice becoming hauntingly short and shallow. This was exactly what he had been afraid of.
A wand to his head, Fripp’s anger boiling over....
Nowhere to run.
“I’d always known it’d come to this with you. From the time I met you as a little boy, you were always curious... far too curious.” Fripp shook his head, pacing back and forth on the top of the bookshelf.
“And to add, Elizabeth’s demise was no accident. He stopped, turning his head toward the man, a small smile creeping on his face, “it was simply a step in the right direction.”
“Damn you! After everything she did for you, you bastard!” Avalon yelled, wet tears born of anger and sorrow stinging his eyes. He dared not move, but how badly he wanted to unleash his rage against the creature. How could he....
“Enough of the games Avalon. You’ve obviously discovered far too much.” Fripp nodded to someone behind Avalon, the wand being pushed even harder into his skull. Pain radiated through his head.
“What are you going to do, kill me? You need me. I’m the best seer you’ve got. I’m the only one who can tell if your poor followers are lying to you.” Avalon spoke, knowing full well his voice was shaking. Not from fear, but from the anger that continued to rage inside him.
“Oh no. That was not my intention at all. Death does not cause the most pain to a man. It summons an end. There can be no pain after the end.” Fripp explained, his eyes calmly moving around the room. It was as if he were discussing what color the drapes were to be changed to.
“The mind, my friend. The mind is the organ the man seeks to protect most. When the private mind comes under attack, the man begins to fold within himself. For there is no privacy nor comfort left for him.” The squirrel continued, his voice maintaining the calm composure. The subject matter made Avalon sick to his stomach.
“Your mind, Avalon. I will take away every last memory you have of her, of that wretched woman.” Fripp said, leaning off of the bookshelf as to be closer to the man’s face.
The man felt began to feel sick.
“I will take away the friendship, the care..... the love you two shared.” He continued, that same eerie smile returning.
Avalon swallowed, his stomach turning more and more with each word. He wouldn’t....
“I’ll take it all.”
28 notes · View notes
chilly-me-softly · 5 years ago
Note
More Ben and your daughter plsss xxxx
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
The doorbell rings and Ben watches you sleep one last time before going downstairs, the baby in his arms doesn't make a sound as he looks at him - and okay he knows his little eyes still don't quite focus on his figure, but when he looks him straight in the eye with that serious look he knows he's in serious danger.
You've been home from the hospital for two days, your little Alex is very quiet for the moment and you're hoping he'll stay that way. It would be a dream, but in the meantime he's quiet in Ben's arms so you think you'll leave him there forever. And if Ben looks at him because he still doesn't believe that little creature can be his, you won't stop looking at him in disbelief to have another baby. In a way it's new for you too, you have no idea what boys use to play or what cartoons are for them these days. You can already imagine your house full of soccer balls and cars as well as dolls and unicorns.
James greets him with a handshake as soon as Ben opens the door, one of his fingers caressing one of the little one's cheeks before going to sit on the couch. He had been one of the few people you had allowed to visit you in the hospital, you wanted to enjoy those moments with your family and then there would be time to see the baby.
"Hey where's the other one?" he looks around lightly placing a pillow on his lap and playing with it.
"She' at Foster's"
"How are things? She's seen him already?"
"She visited the hospital when he was born. She seems to like him. But she's staying with her father until tomorrow, I can't tell you what it will be like to have them both here"
"Well at least she can rest by going to her father" the two giggle and the little one in Ben's arms moves his head in search of his nipple. 
"I know, I know you're hungry buddy, but I have to wake mom for that" he cooes at the baby, his chin is slightly shaky, a sign that he's going to cry anytime soon.
"Is she resting?" Ben nods, "She's still a little sore, still a few more days before everything returns to normal"
"If I give him to you for a moment... do you think you can hold him without dropping him?"
"Fatherhood didn't make you more funny Chilly" a sarcastic smile glides over James' face as Ben leans over to leave him Alex, his body seems to understand the mission he was subjected to because it tends for a moment before a sweet smile forms on his face.
"Gosh, he's so handsome"
"I know, I'll be right back" one last look before heading up the stairs to your room. You're still asleep and he's really sorry to wake you, but he has to. He sits carefully on the bed and puts the back of his hand over your face, you stretch a little but you don't open your eyes.
"Honey, hey... it's feeding time" you sigh as you open and close your eyes for a few seconds before Ben's face enters your visual field.
"How long did I sleep?"
"Something like 20 minutes" he giggles by passing a thumb on your cheek and leaving you a kiss.
"Best 20 minutes of my life" you slowly lift yourself up yawning, "Hey where have you been hiding him?"
"Madders is downstairs"
"I don't know who's under a train for Alex anymore, you or your friend"
"You can't blame us, he's such a cute little boy"
"True" you give him a kiss before you go slowly downstairs.
The last day without Emma passes quietly, you and Ben talk about whether you should let her sleep at Foster's for a few more nights before resuming the routine.  That little girl is sweet and cute only as long as she can sleep through the appointed hours, and right now you don't need two screaming babies in the middle of the night. But you missed her so much and as soon as she gets there, you fill her up with kisses.
You don't want her to feel left out now that there's an extra person in the house who needs attention. During the previous months you had involved her in the decoration of the nursery to make her feel closer and closer to her brother. She got scared when she heard the baby kicking and it took Ben like half an hour to convince her that he wasn't hurting her mother and to get her back in the same room with you. It had been tiring months, a lot of things like picking her up were getting harder and harder for you because of the belly and you felt as bad as she did. But you had really tried during those months to do your best so that she would understand the situation and not hate her brother.
"Did you have a good time at Daddy's?" you ask her, running your hand through her hair while you're sitting on the couch. Alex is sleeping in the carrier next to you and Ben is lying on the couch watching you.
Emma nods, "We went to Grandpa's and then Daddy took me out for ice cream. But I missed you" you and Ben smile looking at each other and noting that nothing has changed, at least for the moment.
Alex starts complaining at that very moment and Ben raises his head to see that the baby has woken up before going to pick him up. "Oh we woke up" he cooes before sitting next to you.
"Can I caress him?" her gaze goes from the baby to you nodding and she claps her hands happily before getting up on her knees and bending over his little body.
"He's bigger" she states passing her finger gently over his forehead and you giggle when she withdraws a little scared because Alex has screamed.
"Well, he has to grow up, you were just like that when you were little you know" she looks at you with her eyes wide open.  "You too?" you nod before Ben announces he needs a diaper change and then you all head for the bathroom.
That first night, the first time pfficially as four, every time you are awake for Alex one of you also goes to check on Emma, but she sleeps quietly holding Twinkle in her arms.
Having another baby made you understand more than anything else how your little girl grew up in those years, you remember when she was as little as Alex and you carried her around the house because she didn't want to fall asleep or when you hummed something because she showed that beautiful smile.  Now she was a little brat who used to tie her own shoes, she was full of curiosity and was starting to develop her own thoughts.
Days had passed, months had accumulated on your shoulders and Alex was already five months old. He is a very cute baby as well as demanding, just smile and he has everyone in his pocket. Emma developed a sense of protection for that child that is indescribable, sometimes it was even difficult to get her ready for school because she wanted to be with him. She didn't understand why she had to go while he was sleeping undisturbed and that plus the fact she had started primary school made it a little difficult at first.
Ben is lying on the couch, Alex straddling his chest while he makes funny faces at him. He's been repeating the word "dad" to him for days, even though you keep reminding him that it's still too early both to talk and to walk. But he's lost his mind now so...
"Ben?" he turns his head hearing Emma calling out at the coffee table, drawing something. "What's up Twinkle"
"Will Alex call you daddy?" asks the little girl, twisting that marker between her fingers and getting blue ink all over herself. Her eyes down as Ben stands up looking out for the little one in his arms and walks up to her.
"Yes, love"
"Can I do it too?" for a moment he's surprised, he doesn't know what to say. It's been years since they first met, he's always been Ben to her because her father is someone else and that word had never escaped her mouth even once. But his heart still grows wider, it could come out of his ribcage now and he would still live on from too much happiness.
"Do you want to?"
"Dad said I can, but he'll always be my number one"
"Understandable. Sure, sure you can, Emma" he shrugs, spreading his arms to her. And the little girl jumps into his arms, holding him tight, "Thanks, Daddy" whispers in his ear and he's about to cry. He can't explain how he feels at the moment, only the little things matter since those two kids are in his life. Alex laughs and it's as if nobody had done it before, Emma kicks a football and then screw the footballers. He wouldn't give away the life he has now for anything in the world, because that's what he's always wanted.
"Ouch, Alex pulled my hair!" and Ben laughs by taking the baby in his arms and holding them both to himself before kissing them and kicking off his evening.
54 notes · View notes
gokinjeespot · 4 years ago
Text
off the rack #1314
Monday. December 28, 2020
 I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas. These few comic books are thanks to the generosity of fellow fan Doug.
 Batman/Catwoman #1 - Tom King (writer) Clay Mann (art) Tomeu Morey (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). Well surprise, surprise. I really liked this first issue. Someone doubted that I would because I wasn't a fan of Tom King's recent stories but this one I enjoyed immensely and not just because of how Clay draws Selina. My favourite storyline in the Batman run was the relationship between Selina Kyle/Catwoman and Bruce Wayne/ Batman and it still is. I really wanted them to get married. This story jumps back and forth in time and involves Catwoman's complicated relationships with the hero and the villains. I hope I get to finish this new Black Label series.
 Action Comics #1027 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) John Romita Jr. (pencils) Klaus Janson (inks) Brad Anderson (colours) Dave Sharpe (letters).  The House of Kent story concludes with the Superman Family winning the day and defeating the Red Cloud. Too bad the new owner of the Daily Planet and mastermind behind the Invisible Mafia, Marisol Leone, escapes justice. I hear Brian Michael Bendis is leaving this book and that some fans are happy with that news. As big a Bendis fan as I am I thought this story sucked. Not even better art would have saved it in my opinion. Even the shocking development on the last page was dumb. I hope the next creative team does a better job on this book.
 Iron Man #1 to #4 - Christopher Cantwell (writer) Cafu (art) Frank D'Armata (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). You can't keep a good Iron Man down. Here I thought Tony Stark was dead. He's back on the racks and teamed up with Patsy Walker/Hellcat in this latest reboot and the first 4 issues were oaky. I stopped reading Iron Man a while back so I don't know who the new A.I. is that he talks to but it goes by B.O.S.S. How he hooks up with Patsy is another mystery to me. Tony has reinvented himself after being resurrected from the dead and he fights a bunch of old foes. His biggest challenge is a new version of Korvac. Remember him? I don't. For straight super hero versus super villains fare, this is okay, middle of the road comics.
 Batman Black and White #1 - James Tynion IV, J. H. Williams III, G. Willow Wilson, Emma Rios and Paul Dini (writers) Tradd Moore, J. H. Williams III, Greg Smallwood, Emma Rios and Andy Kubert (art). I call books like this vanity projects. They're written and illustrated in an artsy fartsy way that is pretentious to me. When it comes to Batman I'm more of a blue collar kind of fan and these stories feel more like they should be in a snooty art gallery. The stories are accompanied by creator bios and I found the first two to be worth reading but I didn't read all of them, kind of like how I stop reading the little plaques at the art gallery that goes with the art on the wall after a few. $5.99 US for four short stories in black and white seems steep to me.
 Batman #103 - James Tynion IV (writer) Guillem March, Carlo Pagulayan  & Danny Miki (art) David Baron (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). The cover is a blatant bait and switch. It says "Ghost-Maker vs. Clownhunter" but it's really Ghost-Maker vs. Batman as Bruce tries to keep Ghost-Maker from killing Clownhunter. The best part of this issue was Harley Quinn's appearance.
 Batman #104 - James Tynion IV (writer) Guillem March, Bengal, Ryan Benjamin  & Danny Miki (art) David Baron (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). I like this Ghost-Maker guy. He wears a headband. I wonder if he still wears one under his helmet. So Ghost-Maker sedated Batman, Harley and Clownhunter last issue and now has them tied up in Arkham Asylum. He left Clownhunter unfettered with a sword handy to kill Harley with. Uh-oh.
 Batman #105 - James Tynion IV (writer) Alvaro Martinez  & Christian Duce, Carlo Pagulayan  & Danny Miki (art) David Baron (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). Does Clownhunter kill Harley? Does Ghost-Maker kill Batman? Read this conclusion to "Ghost Stories" to find out. Get ready to roll your eyes.
 Superman #27 & #28 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Ivan Reis (pencils) Danny Miki (inks) Alex Sinclair (colours) Dave Sharpe (letters). The last 2 parts of "Mythological" where Superman fights Synmar came to a grinding, groaning stop. This is the type of story that helps explain why some people get turned off super hero comics. It's just a bunch of big punch-'em-ups and then the good guy wins in the end. And can we get a consistent depiction of the Phantom Zone please? Is it a dimension where the bad guys are phantoms existing in null space or just another dimension where the bad guys live basically like they used to, like in this story? I hate when creators change things to suit their plots. I don't blame fans for grumbling about Bendis after reading this multi-parter.
 Detective Comics #1030 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Bilquis Evely (art) Mat Lopes (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Rob Leigh (letters). The grassroots movement to rid Gotham City of masked vigilantes doesn't make me care for the Bat Family more because it sure feels like a contrived plot device. The plotline that I'm much more interested in is Damian's poking around his dad's old case files. That's the kind of detective work I like.
 Detective Comics #1031 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Bilquis Evely (art) Mat Lopes (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Rob Leigh (letters). This issue is reflective of events that happened during the recent US presidential election. Anti-Bat and pro-Bat supporters clash and only in comic books can Batman defuse the volatile situation with a noble speech. Meanwhile, Damian quickly finds the person guilty of sweeping the cold cases of the attacks on Bruce Wayne in the past under the rug and brings them to justice. The perp's real identity offers a clue to the villain who shows up at the end of this issue.
 Detective Comics #1032 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Brad Walker (pencils) Andrew Hennessy (inks) Dave McCaig (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Father and son set aside their feud to save the rest of the Bat Family from the latest super villain that has them in his clutches. No mystery who the bad guy is with the cover for this issue being a ginormous spoiler. Yes, Hush is back and he's got a great new scheme to hurt Batman.
 Superman Special #1 - Andy Lanning & Ron Marz (writers) Phil Hester & Ande Parks (art) Hi-Fi (colours) Dave Sharpe (letters). Flashback sequence Marco Santucci (art) Arif Prianto (colours) A Larger World's Troy Peteri (letters). This is part 3 of "Endless Winter" which is DC's version of the finale of the Game of Thrones TV show. It's pretty straight forward. The heroes fight giant ice creatures. The end. I wouldn't spend money on this rack filler.
3 notes · View notes
tigerkirby215 · 4 years ago
Text
5e Nocturne, the Eternal Nightmare build (League of Legends)
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Alex Flores. Made for Riot Games)
In my continuation of terrifying builds for terrifying characters here’s a build for the scariest champion in League of Legends. The prime horror icon on the rift who everyone points to and says “now that is a scary champion!” Nocturne!
Fiddlesticks? How could that bag of twigs and metal be scary?
GOALS
Do I scare you, summoner? - Nocturne is a champion of fear... I mean at least until someone else came along. Still pretty good at making other champs terrified though.
The light is fading - Fighting Nocturne with spells is pointless: cast one and he gets more powerful.
Darkness... - An assassin is scary. An assassin who can turn off the lights, pop up behind you and scream “OOOGA BOOGA!” is even scarier!
RACE
There’s several things Nocturne could be and none of them really fit the description of “shadow spirit demon.” So fuck it may as well be a Changeling, to take the form of whatever your prey fears the most! As a Changeling you get +2 to Charisma and +1 to another ability of your choice... which can be Charisma! So fuck it +3 to Charisma! You also get two skill proficiencies of your choice thanks to Changeling Instincts (take Intimidation and Insight to see through your prey and strike them with fear) and you can learn two languages to compliment your Common language. (Pick whatever it doesn’t matter.)
But of course the main feature of a Changeling is their Shapechanger trait. It’s basically Disguise Self but your clothes don’t change: you still have to have a basic arrangement of limbs, can’t change your size so much that you change size categories, can’t disguise as something you’ve never seen, etc. etc. etc. But even so there’s more than enough shapechanging you can do to strike fear into your foes!
ABILITY SCORES
15; CHARISMA - You are a being of ultimate horror who knows exactly how to get under someone’s skin.
14; DEXTERITY - Nocturne is an assassin who can travel across massive swaths of the map in an instant, and your arm blades don’t seem like they’d be too heavy.
13; WISDOM - To truly terrify someone you’ve gotta know what makes them tick.
12; INTELLIGENCE - You need smarts to be scary. You need to know why they’re scared.
10; CONSTITUTION - Nocturne is a squishy assassin. (Though that being said feel free to swap INT and CON if you want better health but worse RP.)
8; STRENGTH - Nocturne is a ghost so weak that he can only attack you in your dreams... at least until your dreams become real.
BACKGROUND
There’s no background for “Ancient Nightmare Demon” so how about you join an assassin’s club instead? The Volstrucker Agent background from Wildemount gives you proficiency in Deception and Stealth along with a Poisoner’s Kit and a language of your choice. (Again pick whatever.)
Your feature Shadow Network lets you talk to other demons... the worst of the worst... assassin mains. If you write a letter in special ink, address it to a member of the Volstrucker, and throw it into a fire, the letter will materialize on the person of the agent you addressed it to. The ink used to send a letter is the same as the ink to write in a spellbook, and writing a letter in this ink costs 10 gp per page. Tell Talon you’re ganking, or tell Evelynn that she’s a hoe.
This background is fairly easy to adapt outside of Wildemount but be ready to alter it in case your DM doesn’t allow Wildemount content.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Riot Games)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - MONK 1
What? Were you expecting the magical nightmare demon to have magic? Well we need Monk levels for a number of things (notably Saving Throws) but firstly let’s talk skills: take proficiency in Acrobatics and History to jump into people’s dreams and know exactly how to frighten them! You also get a tool proficiency so take Brewer’s Supplies. A spirit making spirits? How droll!
As a Monk you have Unarmored Defense equal to your Dexterity plus your Wisdom. Yeah Nocturne does kinda wear armor, but you’ll have to go without it if you want to use Martial Arts. While unarmored and unarmed with nothing but Monk weapons (which are simple weapons and shortswords - I’d argue that your arm blades are sickles?) you gain the following benefits:
Your fists and Monk weapons can be used with DEX instead of STR.
Your unarmed strike becomes a d4 (and will increase as you level up in Monk.)
When you make an attack with an unarmed strike or a monk weapon on your turn, you can make one unarmed strike as a bonus action.
LEVEL 2 - MONK 2
Second level Monks can chase down their prey with Unarmored Movement, increasing their movement by 10 feet while unarmored (as the name suggests.) But if you need to chase them down faster with Duskbringer then Ki will help with that. You have a number of Ki points equal to your level in Monk which you can use in a number of ways:
Flurry of Blows will let you spend 1 ki point to make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action after attacking, instead of just one.
Patient Defense will activate Shroud of Darkness for 1 ki point so you can take the Dodge action as a bonus action on your turn.
Step of the Wind will let you take the Disengage or Dash action as a bonus action on your turn at the cost of 1 Ki, and your jump distance is doubled for the turn.
This should be more than enough to chase down your foes, but realize that your Ki points are limited. They come back on a short rest though, so you needn’t worry much.
LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 1
Oh hey look it’s Warlock again. Warlocks can choose their subclass at level 1 so it’s time to go Unearthed Arcana with the Undead patron, not to be confused with the Undying patron which doesn’t have the abilities we want.
Abilities such as Form of Dread: As a Bonus Action you can transform for 1 minute to gain temporary hitpoints and immunity to the Frightened condition, but most importantly all your attacks will force a Wisdom save on the target or else frighten them for a round. You can transform a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.
And of course Warlocks get Pact Magic: you learn two cantrips from the Warlock list. To attack around you with your Umbra Blades take Sword Burst, and to let your foes know for whom the bell toles take Toll the Dead, because not taking Eldritch Blast would be a true nightmare.
You can also learn two first level spells: Hex will let you single an enemy out to do more damage to them, and Cause Fear lets you cause fear! Funny how that works. Hit your foes with Unspeakable Horror before cutting them down.
LEVEL 4 - WARLOCK 2
Second level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations to boost their abilities in the realm of dreams. Devil’s Sight will let you see through magical darkness which is good considering that your ultimate (which we don’t have yet) makes the whole world dark. For your second invocation Misty Visions will let you create an illusion of your target’s greatest fears. And then don’t even have to be asleep!
You also get another spell but we’ll hold onto it until...
LEVEL 5 - WARLOCK 3
Third level Warlocks can learn second level spells like Blindness / Deafness from the Undead list for some more darkness, and Cloud of Daggers, because a spinning knife box is pretty spooky.
Yes I am aware that you can get the Darkness spell proper at this level but wait for a minute!
Of course more importantly you get your Pact Boon at level 3 and for a sword-arm ghost take Pact of the Blade, to make your swords on your arms or somewhere else on your body.
LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 4
4th level means an Ability Score Improvement, and since you’re going to be doing a lot of slashing take a Dexterity increase.
You also get another spell at this level along with another cantrip: Suggestion will let you mess with a creature’s thoughts a little to make them do things they’d never dream of! For your cantrip Prestidigitation lets you do a bunch of minor major spooky stuff. Because the true fear is not taking a d10 damage cantrip.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Choe HeonHwa. Made for Riot Games)
LEVEL 7 - MONK 3
You’re probably wondering what the point of these Monk levels are. Simple: Way of Shadows Monks are masters of darkness thanks to Shadow Arts. You can now cast spells using your Ki: you can cast Minor Illusion for free and for 2 Ki points you can cast Darkvision, Pass without Trace, Silence, or DARKNESS. You also get Deflect Missiles at level 3, making you an unkillable nightmare. Or at least a resilient nightmare.
LEVEL 8 - MONK 4
4th level in Monk means another Ability Score Improvement: more Dexterity is needed to survive. Speaking of survive: Slow Fall will help in case you get stuck in that dream where you’re constantly falling.
LEVEL 9 - MONK 5
5th level Monks get an Extra Attack, letting them attack an extra time with their arm blades, or their fists as your Martial Arts die also increase to a d6.
But of course to scare your foes to the point that they can barely move Stunning Strike will let you force a Constitution save or stun your target! I mean, it probably won’t work because your Wisdom is so low but...
LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 5
Quickly hopping to 5th level of Warlock for Shroud of Darkness: grab Counterspell to counter any spells coming your way. You also get another Eldritch Invocation and while Nocturne doesn’t turn invisible in on the rift One with Shadows will let you hide effectively in bushes.
LEVEL 11 - MONK 6
6th level Monks can finally embrace the darkness thanks to Shadow Step. When in dim light or darkness you can teleport up to 60 feet as a bonus action to an unoccupied space you can see, as long as that spot is also in dim light or darkness. You also have advantage on the first melee attack you make after teleporting.
You can make Darkness with your Ki which means that this ability should almost always be available. So let the Paranoia set in before jumping behind your foes to scream “OOOGA BOOGA!” Oh and your Unarmored Movement increases by 5 feet, up to 45 feet now.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Riot Games)
LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 6
6th level Undead Warlocks are Grave Touched. You no longer need to eat, drink, or breathe, because nightmare logic. Additionally, when you hit a creature with an attack you can replace the damage type with necrotic damage. While you are using your Form of Dread, you can roll one additional damage die when determining the necrotic damage the target takes. So instead of doing bludgeoning damage with your fists you can do necrotic damage instead, and rip at their minds! Wait no that’s psychic damage...
Regardless you can learn a third level spell like Speak with Dead, because what’s spookier than a talking corpse?
LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 7
7th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation: to never lose track of your prey take Ghostly Gaze for some All Seeing Spirit.
You can also learn 4th level spells like Shadow of Moil to shroud yourself in darkness. Yeah I hope you didn’t think I’d stop linking to that sound clip!
LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 8
8th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement: maximize your nightmare blades with a capped Dexterity modifier. You can also learn another spell like Death Ward to come back from anything your foes may throw at you. Guardian Angel? What a nightmare!
LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 9
9th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation. Want to hover? Ascendant Step lets you hover!
You can also learn 5th level spells at this level so it’s time to finally give people proper nightmares with the Dream spell. It’s a fairly complicated spell but in essence you can project yourself into someone’s dreams to talk to them, or to yell “OOOGA BOOGA” at them to make them take Psychic damage while also being unable to get a proper long rest.
LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 10
10th level Undead Warlocks can leave their Mortal Husk: You gain resistance to necrotic damage, and you are using your Form of Dread, you instead become immune to necrotic damage.
Additionally, when you are reduced to 0 hit points you can explode! Each creature within 30 feet of you takes necrotic damage equal to 2d10 + your warlock level and you get up with 1 HP. Once you revive this way, you receive a point of exhaustion and you can’t do so again until you finish 1d4 long rests. Look: Nocturne doesn’t explode in-game but there’s nothing saying he can’t do so.
You also don’t get another spell at this level, but you do get another cantrip! Mind Sliver is an Unearthed Arcana spell (that’s been confirmed for Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything) which will let you further reach into your prey’s mind, and see their deepest fears of not taking a d10 damage cantrip.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Riot Games)
LEVEL 17 - WARLOCK 11
11th level Warlocks get their 6th level Mystic Arcanum, which is a 6th level slot that comes back on a Long Rest. So it’s basically a normal spell slot but you can’t upcast your Pact Magic or your Mystic Arcanum. There are some good options to choose from (shoutout to Mental Prison) but if you want to freak out your foes with a spooky eye trick take Eyebite. Along with making your eyes (and I quote!) “become an inky void imbued with dread power“ you can force your foes to make Wisdom saves or suffer a variety of effects. I suggest reading the spell over properly to learn everything it can do.
Oh but you know what else is cool? Regular Warlock spells! And you get a third pact slot no less! I’m actually going to suggest hopping back to 4th level for Hallucinatory Terrain to shape the world around you into one of pure nightmares.
LEVEL 18 - WARLOCK 12
12th level Warlocks get an Ability Score Improvement, and seeing as we’ve had an uneven Wisdom score this entire time I’m actually going to suggest grabbing Resilient (Wisdom) this time for some spell defense and some better stats.
But more importantly you can learn another Eldritch Invocation so it’s finally time to get value out of your ability to cause fear! Lifedrinker will let you fill your blade (because technically you only have one) with Unspeakable Horror, allowing you to deal extra Necrotic damage equal to your Charisma modifier when you strike with them!
LEVEL 19 - WARLOCK 13
13th level Warlocks get 7th level Mystic Arcanum such as Power Word Pain to subject a target with less than 100 health to Unspeakable Horror.
You can also learn another Pact Magic spell and have you ever had that feeling of someone watching you? Well Scrying will let you watch people. Cut some claw marks through a girl’s blue dress and use the cloth fragments to watch her when you can’t strike. …That was a Nightmare on Elm Street reference…
LEVEL 20 - WARLOCK 14
14th level Undead Warlocks can truly instill Paranoia with Spirit Projection. As an action you can go beyond your body, leaving it behind in an unconscious state of suspended animation. Your spirit can remain outside your body for up to 1 hour or until your concentration is broken. When your projection ends, your spirit returns to your body or your body magically teleports to your spirit’s space (your choice). While projecting your spirit, you gain the following benefits:
Your spirit and body gain resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage.
When you cast a spell of the conjuration or necromancy school, the spell doesn’t require any components as long as they don’t have a gold cost. 
You have a flying speed equal to your walking speed and can hover. You can move through creatures and objects as if they were difficult terrain, but you take 1d10 force damage if you end your turn inside a creature or an object.
While you are using your Form of Dread, you regain hit points equal to half the amount of necrotic damage dealt with an attack once per turn.
Once you use this feature, you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest, but one hour of pure terror should be enough to slay any foe.
FINAL BUILD
PROS
Drip drop; the sound of blood - While it’s mostly tied to your Form of Dread you do a lot of damage. 3d6 + 23 damage with your blade(s and fist) every turn, increasing to 6d6 + 23 with Form of Dead.
Their twilight approaches - You have quite a lot of mobility. 45 feet of movement speed and if you want you can hover. Or even fly! And of course you have dozens of ways to teleport around the battlefield and be everywhere at once.
Are you getting tired yet? - It wasn’t my intention but you are remarkably hard to kill. Good saving throws (or at least good enough), good AC, incredible mobility, and ways to both heal and grant yourself temporary hitpoints.
CONS
Afraid of the dark? - The sad truth about fear in D&D is that most high-level monsters are immune to it. Necrotic damage is thankfully spared but even then if you face an enemy who’s resistant to Necrotic damage (yet alone immune!) you’ll run into a lot of problems.
People are flames to be blotted out - While both your Ki points and your Pact Magic slots come back on a Short Rest a lot of your best abilities are tied to Long Rests. Perhaps it’s the nature of Unearthed Arcana, but even then your pact spells are mostly meant for utility, which is fine and all but it means that you won’t have much for combat. There’s a lot of great combat spells that Warlocks get which you can grab instead of the spells I listed.
I sense fear - All the resilience and mobility in the world won’t save you from Power Word Kill. With a d8 hit die and no Constitution modifier you won’t have much more than 100 health on average.
But as day turns to night it’s your time to strike. Your role above all is to cause fear. Let your victims know that if you want them dead they won’t survive. Stalk them in every moment regardless of if they’re awake or asleep, and let them know that when the world goes dark their time is up. Just be wary of anyone who remembers to bring a flashlight: you don’t want to be blinded while chasing your prey.
Tumblr media
(Artwork by Francis Tneh of West Studios. Made for Riot Games)
5 notes · View notes
cadoielsdorkiestranger · 4 years ago
Note
Clockhand child asks - 4, 10, 17, 24, 25, 31, 39, 40
(Ask meme here)
4. what does your room smell like?
Pine wood furniture, old books, old fabric, potpourri (juniper shavings, orange peel, rosemary), and a little bit like ink and dust.
10. what do you wish you hated, but actually like?
....Bad harlequin and bodice ripper novels. They can’t help but think that they’re hilarious and a good distraction from heavier reading.
17. what form of government do you like the most? (capitalism, socialism, etc.)
Listen....Listen......Anni, I do not know what forms of government exist in this world and I don’t want to ask Alex. I Cannot answer the question. I’m sorry.
Fuck capitalism though.
24. what is your favorite thing to learn about?
Magical creatures. They’re very interesting.
25. what country’s history do you find the most interesting?
Nyfdel, probably. I the player know literally nothing about it except that it’s Probably Elves, but Charlie enjoys the history.
31. how easy is it for you to be honest?
Depends on what they’re being honest about, because, see, Charlie doesn’t lie. They might omit details or refuse to answer, but they don’t tell purposeful lies. It’s still hard to be honest, though, especially about something they don’t want to talk about. 
39. earbuds or headphones?
Earbuds. They’re light, easy to fit in a pocket, and can be worn under a hood or hat.
40. do you like light blankets or heavy blankets? 
Heavy blankets. Love those pressure stims!
2 notes · View notes
vociferous-chaos · 5 years ago
Text
Devil's Train
Marc shot up into a sitting position, gasping for breath as he held his chest. How was he alive? He had stabbed himself, he should be dead. He looked around at his surroundings, confused to find himself sitting by some train tracks. He stood up and looked around, cringing a little when a train whirred passed him. Once it was past he stepped onto the tracks, starting to walk on them.
He heard a weird gurgling noise to his right and he turned to see a weird, black creature standing on top of an abandoned train car. It’s body dripped like ink onto the ground and its mouth hung open seemingly permanently, exposing its mouth that showed where the gurgling noise was coming from. It gracelessly fell off the cart, but got right back up completely unfazed. It started towards him and he took steps back every step it took.
All of a sudden it charged, causing Marc to turn back on the tracks and sprint away. He tripped, but managed to catch himself, heart racing as he tried to get away from whatever the hell was chasing him. He threw a risky glance back and slowed his pace when nothing was there, stopping and gasping for air as he held his side. He doubled over and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
He stood back up straight and froze, staring wide-eyed at the… thing in front of him. Where its head should be was just stitched together skin and its body was an amalgamation of various parts. It was a horrifying creature and black oozed through the stitches on its face, making it even harder to look at. He took multiple steps back, staring at the creature in disgust. Its face split down the center stitches and a garbled laugh bubbled out of it. Maggots fell out of the tear in its face and started crawling in the exposed flesh of the creature, eating the flesh down to the bone.
Marc’s face screwed up in horror and he swallowed hard before sprinting off past it, still following the tracks. He didn’t hear it following and when he looked behind him he was relieved to see it had not pursued. He couldn’t see it though and that concerned him, but he tried his best to not let it get to him as he continued down the tracks. The landscape was strange and he felt like he was in a plane parallel to the normal but rearranged. 
He came to a slope that was steep and as he climbed he tried to rid his mind of the creeps. Within the foggy distance, he saw a silhouette that got bigger as he stepped, the train tracks were wet. He saw a shiny grin from afar like it was happy and as he got closer the guy’s appearance became more clear. He had tousled black hair and dark blue eyes with an icy blue ring around the pupils. His grin exposed sharper than average teeth and a black tail swayed behind him, the tuft of fur at the end a dark red.
"It's a nice night for a walk, would ya mind if I joined you?" The guy asked, turning around to keep pace with Marc.
"Do what you wanna do." Marc said, getting a weird vibe from the guy.
"Well that's great, 'cause I'm going to, and not to annoy you but, see I really have to ask what a young dude like you is doing out by the tracks. You waiting on a train?" He questioned, facing Marc as his eyes flashed red and spiraled towards his pupil in a hypnotic way.
"Nah, man, let me explain."
"Alright."
"I'm minding my business, so maybe you should do the same. I’ve just been a witness to something sick and sadistic, so twistedly disgusting you should feel real lucky you missed it." He said, a shadow falling across his face as he recalled the horrifying creature.
"Oh, easy with the tongue, son, try to listen carefully. What you've seen is scary, but nothing when compared to me.” His grin widened and black wings unfurled from his back. “I could show you things to paint all your dreams haunted.” His fangs extended and his claws unsheathed, horns curling back on his head and his whole body shifting to a very demonic looking entity. The landscape and scenery around them shifted as well, taking on a hellish look that would terrify anyone. “I could make you scream if I wanted.” 
The illusion snapped away and the guy wrapped his arm around Marc’s shoulder. “Or I can be the bee in your bonnet, your best friend forever.” He waved his other hand and a feather swirled between his fingers. “Two peas in a pod flocking like birds of a feather.” He flicked his wrist and the feather disappeared. He moved to standing in front of Marc, eyes gleaming. “And you never have a need to beg, work, or steal.” He held out his hand, the landscape and scenery around them shifting to the hellish look it had been. “If all this sounds worth it then let's make a deal.”
The scenery changed back and the guy kept his hand out, swiping his tongue across his teeth as his shadow discretely slipped underneath Marc’s legs and floated above his head. “All you want in life for the price of your soul. All the money you can fold, power that you can hold.” His shadow started getting into Marc’s head, whispering thoughts into his ear and making him think they were his. “I'll put you in control.”
His eyes narrowed and the red spiralled towards his pupil again. “Only if you're down to roll down these train tracks tonight.”
The guy’s grin widened as Marc’s eyes turned red briefly and he took the guy’s hand, shaking it. "But where are we gonna go?"
--
If anyone wants info on my character Alex, who is the guy offering the deal, message me and I can answer questions.
@doctordiscord123
12 notes · View notes
gunmetalgrey-trashpile · 4 years ago
Note
💋 (From Sam)
For @diabolicaltendencies Send 💋 for a kiss of the receiver’s choice - i’m going with the kiss from someone else
The groaning and cracking of wood filled her ears, the salt spray rising over the sides of the ship around her. It was all she could to do lash him to the mast, despite his constant squirming to reach the mythical voices the men around her were enchanted over. And yet she head nothing but the sound of destruction. She used her whole bodyweight to pull at the ropes, tying a series of complicated knots in the hopes he would stay put.
    “ Sam! - SAM.” Alex slapped at his face, trying to get him to see sense but it was no use. Men around her were throwing themselves overboard, to the mercy of an unforgiving sea. Alex, and Alex alone seemed to have her wits about her. She pushed back the brim of her hat, reaching for her pistol even though it would do very little. How was she supposed to fight the ocean? Never mind whatever these creatures were?
Deep, bottle green tentacles seemed to snake their way around the sides of the ship. They were being encased in the grip of something colossal, it pushed and pulled at the sides of the vessel as if it were a ship in a bottle, being shaken around to see if there was anything interesting inside. As they were raised higher, she clung to the rigging, keeping one eye on her oblivious doctor in the hopes he might come to.
This was her fight, and hers alone.
Alex pulled at the net of the rigging, hoisting herself up to get a better view beneath the surface of the sea. From here she could see them. Beautiful red haired maidens with glass smiles, blowing kisses as they dragged the men of her crew beneath the surf over and over again. And yet they paid no mind to whatever foul beast held the actual ship in its grip. Her stomach was in her throat before she could think, the sinking feeling of the gravity being pulled from under her feet horribly familiar. The had been let go, to come crashing down to earth again.
The bow sunk beneath the waves. The down to a watery grave, and there was nothing Alex could do about it. There was only enough time for her to take two deep breaths, before the rush of water overcame her. Her hat was pulled from her head, the long braids cascading around her face making it difficult to see. There was a few minutes at most before the sail either cracked with Sam stuck to it, or sunk too far for her to find. 
In the misty water, the best she could make out was the splintered wood. Alex launched herself forwards to avoid a barrel or two, ignoring the twirling limbs of the monster that seemed to share her love of what had once been her ship. Her gaze glanced over the bodies down here, before one caught her yes.
There. The sea weed hair was enthralled around him, and yet he smiled at the creature so sweetly. The way he had looked at Alex, when no one else was watching. Her eyes narrowed, her arms launching herself forwards through pieces of the wreckage. She used her knife to dig into one of the writhing tentacles, letting it pull her closer at a forceful speed. The gilled creature looked different beneath the water. They all did. Here you could see their gills, their fangs, their webbed hands ready to tear men limb from limb. At least this beast was untying him from the ropes as Alex was pulled closer, doing the hard work for her.
She pulled her knife free from the kraken, launching herself at the mermaids back. She buried her knife deep there, the black blood flowing like ink between her and Sam just as his ropes loosened- and his eyes drifted closed.
Despite the wreckage around them, Alex shoved an arm under his and swam upwards. Upwards and upwards still, as far up ash she could go to break through to the surface. They were so close. They had to be.
And then she was hot, and dry.
Her sodden clothed pooled around her, waves lashing around her feet as her throat drew ragged and raw breaths. She fought to get air, rolling onto her side to cough up more salty salty foam. Scorching sunlight covered the bay as pieces of wood and ropes drifted slowly towards them. He lay to her side, his tattered shirt clinging desperately to him. He looked at peace, she could see his chest rising and falling at the very least. He was alive, although he would have hell to pay when he came to.
     “ Fuck me-”
Alex leant back on her elbows, cursing at his stupidity. Men, yet again, had cost her more than she cared to admit. Hopefully, this one was worth it.
2 notes · View notes
ginnyzero · 5 years ago
Text
Completely Harmless Ch. 1
Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.
When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?
A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577
Chapter One
Thomas Moorland had been nice enough and extremely sympathetic when he’d regretfully told them that he couldn’t sell them the horses they were riding. They were the camp’s horses and if he sold every horse that one of his campers got attached to, there’d be none left. They’d pouted, but the man had held firm even though he’d had a twinkle in his eye.
The large group of girls talked among themselves a bit sadly. They did love riding and the horses at the stable.
It was Justin. Thomas’ dark haired son with the soulful eyes that half of the girls in the group had a crush on that saved the day.
Figuratively that is.
“Psst,” he hissed as he peered into the stables.
The girls looked up at him in different stages of untacking their horses.
He grinned at them and bounced in. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms. “Heard you ambushed dear old dad.”
“You don’t have to sound so chipper about it,” Abigail mock pouted.
“Happens every year,” Justin grinned. “A couple keep trying to buy Saga out from under me.”
“You should be complimented. He’s a good horse,” Jennifer said. She patted her horse’s nose.
“He’s my horse!” Justin made a face and stuck out his tongue.
Lily cocked her hip. “Justin Moorland, you either have a trick up your sleeve or you came to torment us.”
Justin smoothed his face. “Torment you. I would never do that.” He put his hand to his heart. “My honor.”
“Loretta does all the tormenting around here,” Melody muttered.
Justin flicked his fingers and held up a folded glossy square of paper. “Ladies, if you truly desire horses, the best in Jorvik, you need to go see old lady battle axe herself, Baroness Annabella Silverglade.”
The girls stopped untacking their horses.
Lily raised a brow. “And what must we do to get there?”
“Stop trying to buy my horse!” Justin flung the folded square at her.
Lily caught it.
The girls giggled.
Justin rubbed the back of his neck. “I heard a rumor that she really could use some help. A friend of mine, Linda, she’s been working for the Baroness, helping run the Equestrian Center. But I’m afraid she’s bit off more than she can chew. Plus, she’s so busy already. Alex isn’t helping much since she comes down here to hang out with Maya so much.”
Maya shouted. “I can hear you!”
“Judy, Tyra, and Pauline are trying to keep things under control, but you know.” Justin shrugged. “Linn is stuck at the Riding Arena, Sonja is supposed to be helping out but she’d rather be in Valedale. Sabine is a bitch.”
“Justin!” Abigail gasped.
Justin smirked at them. “Well? If you want to get there and back before dark, you better be going now.” He waved at them cheekily and trotted off.
Grace huffed. “The nerve of him.”
“Utter cheek!” Melody agreed.
Lily opened the square of paper. It was a map. And Justin had helpfully drawn a red line from Moorland Stables to Silverglade Manor. There was also a few notes written in white ink. One read ‘Grape Mountain,’ and the other, “Loose Paddock.” Grape Mountain was south of the manor and Loose Paddock was north of it. Justin had included a note with an arrow at a broken line also in white. “The Baroness’ personal territory.”
Tumblr media
Lily nodded. Justin was right. If they wanted to go out to the manor and get back before dark, they’d better leave now. At least the route seemed mostly clear. Though one bit looked disturbingly off the roads.
The horses seemed a bit astonished that the girls were putting the saddles and bridles back on them. But they were generally good spirited animals and were more than willing to leave the stables again, as long as it was at a placid trot.
The girls weren’t willing to push them either. They chattered at each other about what type of horses the Baroness might have. Some thought Arabians, others English Thoroughbreds, and others droned on about the merits of Hanoverians.
Justin’s route took them up the cliff to Nilmer’s Highland and a sharp right to the north towards Silverglade Village, a place they hadn’t yet explored. But the map said that off to their left, under the disturbing red line, there should be a path near the castle. Well, relatively near the castle. There was a lot of lawn between them and the huge yellow limestone castle on a cliff.
Regina saw it first. “Found it!” She said loudly enough so all could hear but not so loudly it’d spook the horses. They turned off the cobbled road and followed what was little more than a dirt track between some hills.
In the distance, up on a hill, had to be the manor. But it was really far into the distance. Between them and it was lots and lots of green.
“It looks rather impressive,” Lily said.
Their talk drifted to who they should approach. Annabella Silverglade herself? Or this Linda person? Or Judy? They didn’t want to be too much of a bother especially so late in the day.
The track led them to another road, they emerged on it between two birch trees, as the map showed it would. Off to their left and thus, to the south and across the road to the west were rows and rows and rows of grape vines. They grew along the flat parts of the mountain too.
“Oh, I get it,” one of the girls said.
“That can’t be the real name.” Abigail wrinkled her nose.
They turned up the road and noticed that the grapes continued despite the terrain. The road continued skirting a hillock and they came to a bridge. Far to the east they could see the village and realized it must be tucked right up next to the old castle walls. As they crossed the bridge, a dot off to the east (their right) looked like a rather quaint farm. They thought or speculated. There was a silo at least.
The road turned and for a little bit the road was lined with birch trees and grape vines. It was a long way up. They grew nearer to the manor and details emerged. A white stone wall with an iron wrought gate overgrown with weeds. To their left was a terrace also gone to weeds. Ahead of them though, the classical Greek inspired white stoned manor with its large windows and stately columns shaded by birches was impressive. The frieze on the tryptic above the door satyrs frolicking among the grapes and playing harps and pipes.
Tumblr media
But overall, to either side of them were large, no huge, gardens gone to seed populated by yet more birch trees.
To the north the stable, or they assumed it was the stable, mimicked the manor house. It was large and long and off center was a columned archway over the roadway with another tryptic with a triangular frieze displaying horses rearing, cantering and trotting. Through this archway they could see a stone bridge. The stable had small individual doors that the top part opened individually on the lower floor and on the upper floor with the flat roof were more open windows showing where the hay was stored.
They assumed they could get into the stable proper through that doorway.
Tumblr media
In front of it was a large parade ground with a rather odd symbol tiled into it.
And, to the south, the other large building was a large rectangular thing with a triangular roof instead of a flat one. It reminded them of what the Parthenon was supposed to look like with the long columns down the side of it.
Despite the run down appearance, the place was remarkably busy. Now, they didn’t want to bother the Baroness at all. That wouldn’t be proper. She was no doubt a busy woman. So, instead, they looked for Linda.
However, the first person they found was a girl with black hair that reminded them a lot of the stable manager of Moorland Stables, Jenna. She introduced herself as Judy.
They explained their mission. They wanted to buy horses and Thomas refused to sell them the camp horses and Justin had sent them this way.
Judy shook her head. “Happens every year. Well, you’re in luck. We have a fresh batch of three year olds looking for forever owners. They’re broken enough to ride and all, but they’ll need a great deal of training before you’ll be able to win any championships.
That was fine with the girls.
“Now, I’m going to warn you. These horses are special. They won’t be accepted by just anyone.” Judy said.
The six girls nodded.
“All right, they’re in the stables. May Aideen smile on you,” Judy grinned at them. She waved them towards the long structure.
There was a fence around the parade ground. But no one wanted to tie their horses to it. That wasn’t done. Plus there was nothing for the horses to eat near the parade ground. The girl’s dismounted and loosely tied the camp horses up in the area overrun by the weeds.
They all gasped as they went under the rotunda. It was actually stained glass and parts of it was faceted to throw off rainbows. The stained glass was of course, grape bunches and vines. They went into the shorter section of the stables first.
Inside the stables reflected the outside of the stables. There was cool white stone under their feet and the walls of the stable had been bleached white and had a silver sheen where the pattern of the wood was. Each stable wall topped with the delicate iron work like the gates.
But inside these pretty stalls were the prettiest horses the girls had ever seen. They had delicate heads and long flowing wavy manes and tails.
Tumblr media
No one could restrain their squeals.
They didn’t run. They didn’t want to scare the beautiful creatures. But they certainly all walked quickly to the different stalls fishing out cubes of sugar and holding out hands to try and make friends.
A dark brown girl in a bright orchid t-shirt that read Knights of Unistria and black shorts laughed. “You must be new here. These are Jorvik Warmblood Sports, Jorvik’s best kept secret. I’m Linda.” She seemed friendly enough.
Lily was the leader. “Oh, we heard you worked here. I’m Lily and these are my friends Abigail, Grace, Regina, Melody, and Jennifer.” She gestured at each of the girls. “We’re, um, campers.”
“Obviously,” Regina rolled her eyes. They all wore the camp uniform after all, red t-shirt, grey fingerless gloves, brown riding pants, black riding boots and a black helmet. It was dreadfully unstylish.
Linda smiled at them and pushed her glasses up her nose. A bay horse with a white blaze down his nose and a white mane and tail huffed into her hair. She reached up to pet his neck absentmindedly. “And this is Meteor, the constantly starving.”
Meteor had the same nose shape and body structure as the horses in the stables. Though he was bigger and his hair wasn’t nearly as long.
“He’s handsome,” Grace said. “Is he yours?”
“More like, I’m his,” Linda wrinkled her nose.
“Oh, like cats,” Melody giggled.
“We’re here to become owned too, or something,” Jennifer waved her hand around.
Linda sighed. “Did Justin send you?”
“He gave us a map and everything.”
“Is it really Grape Mountain?”
“No. That’s him being cheeky.” Linda huffed. She tugged on her pony tail. “All the horses here are for sale, it’s true. In fact, if we don’t sell them. We’ll have to cull them. We simply don’t have the resources right now to look after them all. They’re in here for their final checkups.” Her face fell. “And it’s not really fair to release them into the wild. I mean, maybe they’d be all right.” She bit her lip. “So, they’re really cheap, three hundred shillings each. The Baroness is simply at her wits end and so am I.”
The girls looked at each other and looked around the barn. It seemed clean enough, but it probably could be cleaner.
“Thanks Linda,” Lily said before anyone else could. “That’s, a lot better of a deal than we expected.”
Linda twiddled her fingers. “Look, I have to run. If you have any questions, talk to Judy or Tyra. They know everything there is to know about the stables and Jorvik Warmblood Sports.”
“Not Sabine,” Grace said shrewdly.
Linda blinked. “Sabine’s a boarder. She doesn’t work here. She likes to make everyone think she does.”
“Good to know. We’ll be on our guard.” Lily saluted.
Linda smiled again. “All right. Good luck!” She said and trotted out.
“Huddle,” Jennifer said.
The girls gathered into a circle.
“Okay, something is definitely going on here.” Lily rubbed her chin.
Abigail groaned. “I’d do anything, and I do mean, anything, to get away from Loretta.”
“But, but, camp,” Grace hissed.
“Look, if this Baroness is as important as Justin implied she is,” Regina murmured. “I don’t think Old Man Thomas is going to mind us coming to help her out.”
“He might reward us,” Abigail bounced on her toes.
Jennifer sighed. “And riding around the cavaletti in a circle is so dull.”
Grace wrinkled her nose. “And the Bobcat race is, look, okay, Tan and Loretta are full of it and the other girls don’t want to lift a finger if it involves actually doing anything that might scuff their nails. They want us to be Bobcats to do their dirty work.”
Lily held up a finger. She jogged out of the stable and flagged down Judy who had a clipboard. “Judy, I have a question. It might seem odd.”
Judy widened her eyes. “Ohkay?”
“Does this stable have a dedicated riding club?”
Judy opened and shut her mouth. “No. If we did, we probably wouldn’t be in this state.”
Lily beamed at her. “Thanks, Judy.” She turned around and jogged off leaving a very bemused and confused Judy behind her.
Lily returned to the huddle. “Good news. No riding club!”
The girls jaw dropped.
“No club? Really? This gorgeous stable is ripe for the taking.” Regina’s voice turned fervent.
“This is not Pokemon Go!” Jennifer glared at her.
Lily tossed her hair. “Girls. I have an idea.”
Abigail pounded her fist into her hand. “Let’s show up Loretta.”
Grace’s lips parted. “Form our own riding club,” she breathed.
“And claim the SEC for our own and rule!” Regina pumped her fist into the air.
Lily smirked. “Exactly. So, let’s get some horses, recruit Tyra, Pauline, and Linn. The map says the Riding Hall is behind the manor, recruit more if we need to back in Moorland, and take Loretta and her Bobcat girls down.”
“Break,” Jennifer said.
They girls moved apart and scattered across the stables to look at the different horses. There were plain horses without markings, and those with; appaloosas, dapples, paint horses. There were those with the fancy coat genes too, cremellos, buckskins, and roans.
It wasn’t like they fell in love with the horses, because they did. But it was also like the horses fell in love with them.
With their shillings in hand they tracked down Judy and handed it all over.
Judy beamed at them. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much.”
“No. Thank you,” Lily said with a smile.
A/N: If you read this, I’ll be surprised. This story is a practice project for my portfolio and my own Horse MMORPG called Mystic Riders. I wanted to prove to myself and my dev partner that I could in essence design a section of game. I’m a fashion designer and a writer who loves games. I don’t expect (or want) SSO to implement ideas into the game (mostly.) This is for my own education and entertainment.
Writing story is the way I organize my thoughts and world build. So, this story may be a little salty, and a little shady in places. I care about Star Stable, horse games, and actual MMORPGS so much that the wasted potential grinds my gears. I chose the Silverglade Manor area because so much of that potential felt untapped to me and there were so many story lines that touched the Manor. If you want to see my take on anywhere else in the game, then, I’d have to work for the game. (There is only so much free labor I’m willing to do.)
FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.
Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.
3 notes · View notes
smallgayblanket · 5 years ago
Text
New/revised/whatever- List of stuff
Egos (Marks/Jacks) that I have written for or at least actually have thought about HCS/other universes for:  (Just some brief rambles about them, please don't hesitate to ask about them :3)
  -Anti,   Two takes really, I like him soft, like him mean, hes just fun to write, plenty of different ways to spin why he acts out, what he is and all that. My current fav way to portray him is a missing piece of Seans soul, which means hes unstable as a ‘person’ (cough, not really a human but not, not human either.)  And how he has static filled blue eyes but usually hides them with the scary emerald green...
-Jameson,  I will always stand by this kinda universe i created with a friend aages ao that Shawn took away Jamesons voice when being puppeteered by an awful ink creature that shares his body.  Giving Jameson a lovely fear of knives, some scars, and some very damaged vocals..
-Crank, Oh my fucking boi, a near dead human spliced with a bunch of robot parts..human skin tangled with wires and a heart incased in metal..hes a right mess, a voice in his head that makes him feel all sorts of bad.. He tries his best..he cries oil,  I hardly get to write  him but I love him.
-Blank, another big fav oi, black hollow eyes..a tendency to faint... My Hc involves him having been in an accident that almost killed him, leaving him with a very rare heart condition. He also has an aura which..kinda ties into him having a few abilities and stuff. 
-Nes.. He started off as my own kinda Ethan ego, basically Ethan who was mistreated and really lost his marbles..hes great for the real twisted messed up kinda stuff, so dependant on others, a minor murderer, and has been eyed off by a certain ice cream driver for quite some time...
-Were eth,  Okay granted this was literally just kinda an idea that..Eth became a were wolf boi, fangs, tail, ears. Hes just a fun lil pupper
-Eden. Succubus Ethan basically, but well, he again kinda turned into his own thing separate from Ethan. He's got a tail and wings, and hes a lovely lithe thing. He doesnt dare do things without consent, just gets a bit touchy-feely when hes gone without any energy for too long. Very wide stunning saphire eyes. 
- Jackie  Oh my lad..Buff, trans, adorable, sweet. I always love tinkering around with how/what powers he has tbh..and like- I’ve always had the hc that his eyes are lilac?? or gold. Depending on things.. and he works either at a comic book store, a gym, or at the counter of a gas station. Gives the best hugs. Also I love AUS where hes a phoniex because of uhm?? Big fucking red wings??? YES.
-Hen, Getting his accent right is tough but other than that I love writing about the tired doctor living off coffee and ignoring himself in favor of others. 
-Chase The fucking best dad, sunshine lad. Running a vlogging channel and doing his best while combatting depression..I hc him to have chronic fatigue so he has to push himself extra hard. but He does well in trying to get better and look after himself and only slips up like any other helpless human. Very fun to write. 
- Robbie.   Sof.t zombie lad. Drown in a sweater. Stutters and is v quiet. Slow with speech. Struggles to see sometimes. Loves soft textures.Loves attention. Overall soft fucking lad.
-KOTS, To mean known as Simon. Actually v smart, big brain, very scattered n shy and nervous and squirrelish. Loves books n plants, loves nature. Red is his best colour. Warm sweaters and nuzzling and cuddling up. I always get torn between him being a hybrid of human/squirrel or just a lovely soft guy. 
-Yan ! My fem nb/trans gal! They’ll kick ass with their katana, have the hots for Bim, and looove Japanese culture and stuff. Very adorable. Loves pink. 10/10 love to write. 
-Technically I do have a muse for Mark, or..idea? I’m thinking about shoving it into my own oc/thing..but basically he got tortured n abused by Authy so hes not quite like the real life markimoo..just a nervous mess whose dealing with his traumas..
-Bing, Skater lad, yellow/orange eyes, sunflower vibes. Tries his best, clumsy as fuck, great for a laugh when hes not cowering under google. 
-Edward iplier,  Gah my doctor lad.. I have a hc that he Lost arm. In fire..or by dark n wilf.  He has heterochromia too!! One cho ceye one blue one. He is a fucking nerd (Minor adhd lets be honest) He fucking loves space and science and space/science related lights. He has a bat plus with spacey wings. He likes reading, likes being clean and is quite a quiet indulger in food which has left him with a big of a softer figure. Super gentle nature..nothing like the arrogant portrayal we got in some videos. 
-Angus   I love this man!!! Part Aussie, part irish, a whole lot of gruff old dad with a soft spot for nice people and animals, has his own big place, next to a large ass forest. Loads of scars. Loves boots and cameo coloured clothing. A lovely guy when you get past the rough edges. 
Aand onto all my ocs as of writing this (cause you name well know I be writing new ones like..all the time.) 
--------------------
OC’S (My original characters!)
-Jessy, Cowboy-   Choker with gold bell. Lil ears/horns. Spots. Shy but sweet. Hands and feet different colour to rest of skin. Kinda  fur ish feeling rather then just straight-up skin.  Pear shaped figure. Shy lad. Likes to take lots of naps, anxious easily but a big people pleaser too. 
-Ailan and Keros. Moth n butterfly boi.  (Literally just made up with a friend, just a random soft pair of lads tbh nothing too fleshed or spesh)
- Louie - Followed by a dark being/creature/spirit... Yet to determine what else about him, but hes got brown hair, pointed ears and looks lovely in green.
-Quinton  A Hybrid of Demon and Angel otherwise called a Guardian. Quirky, Pan as shit, great dress sense. Extremely calm. Can see auras. Lovely black feathered wings. Bright blue hair.  Kind smile. Works at a little coffee shop in his spare time.
-Ori  Very pure angel boy, previously owned and not very well treated by a god, came crashing down to earth with no memories but his wings intact. Some help him. 
-Lumi  Ghost boy! Died years ago under awful circumstances..now lingers around on earth, sometimes meeting humans who happen to be able to feel or see his presence, he has the ability to make himself solid for short periods of time. 
- Lucio Witchy..dragon soul something or other- Deaf.Paralyzed? In the arms??They might use alot of energy trying to hover around instead of having to use a chair..(I mean how many witches do you see with chairs??).. Although they could not have use of their arms instead, like..paralyzed from the shoulder down- they still have them but theyre effectively useless and easily sore.. (which might make magic really hard, cause theyd have to master it again without their hand gestures.)
- Eztli, Bit of a prick. Basically got cursed to have really weird blood that replished and rejuvinated too fast/too much by a witch he angered. So he turned the curse into a good thing and basically goes out offering himself as a human blood bag for vamps willing to pay in info, items, cash or uh..other services..  
- Gallio Photographer, has hypocalcemia. Haven't really done much else with him tbh.
-Aomi Warlock/witch in training. Downright awful at it. Young and lives in a nice lil cottage outside of the village he was abandoned in.
- Lucas A moonstone gem perma-fusion, he kinda has SPD/DID but he doesn't, cause..hes two gems that became one but not fully. Leaving him to be a bit of a mess and not as strong as other moonstones. 
- Kiyan. A little assistant android!! Created to assist, he can make portals!, He works at a post office. Hes under surveillance by the company that made him and isnt yet aware of many human customs/emotions.. 
- Alex  A very confused, overly optimist Alien who doesn’t know what they are. Come from the planet Eutychia, 4'3. They fucking glow. You know  Kilowatt from space chimps? think that. But hair n freckles and more human and just as  bubbly and energetic. 
-Locus  Mer/Fish boi!  Transparent fins, glowy patches, plays harp + loves music.
-Lir  A Tiny Octopus/Human hybrid lad. Makes little burble and trill noises. Quite harmless. Needs a home. 
Benji (Strawberry shortcake boi- Cursed tape /bandages. Demi half god.? One eye. Uses notes. To communicate but also sign. Really. Good sweets maker)
 Small bois (A collection of tinys because G/T is fucking great okay?)
- Tobias. Literally Made of hair gel. cleary, adorable, aaand Eats soap..amoung other non food items he probably should not ingest but does..
- Hinto  Guy made of foam slime. Very chill n laid back.
- Glowstick bubs. (Alo/aloke -  Green and blue  +  Siro - Yellow n pink.  + Mavi (Vi) Red and silver. + Roxy (Ro) - Orange and  purple )  They’re a cross between glowsticks and lava lamps and its epic- asides the fact they have like.half a brain cell each. Lots of sleeping n lazign around.
- Theo  A tiny ink creature.  A clever little lad, who likes to drawn and write n paint in ink and leave cheeky little black splotches everywhere. A very good writer companion tho. 
- JellyBubs! A collection of tiny sentient jelly babies, hungry lads will raid your cupboards. 
-Miel A tiny little bee boy! Loves flowers <3 
Apocolyse Squad:
The planet Keres,  Left uninhabitable after the invasion that ruined the air and killed almost the entire race.
Sameal o’Ceirin (Being of smoke- partly blind.)
Mallory Thomas (Part cat. Vet, partner to Sam who ends up dying in the canon of their story)
Hamrish Benat  (Hayden. 4 eyes, soft tongue. PTSD. extra tiny heart in wrist. Quite fem/soft. Likes soap cutting vids and stuffed toys/teddies.)
Joshua who cares (An asshole. Staight up. He dies. Fuck him. He sucks ass.)
Andy peters (Strong, kind. Kinda like Tyler shied. Big, tol, but actually pretty soft.)
Adrian  Géarán  (Tail, fire abilities, likes to make little robots. Very weak n has a couple of disabilities that leave him tired n such, which aint great for his esteem or his team when the apoc hits.)
--
Wyatt ???? ?????????????????
Pace- Nerdy. Finds a cat. Observer for the aliens. Is immune to black goop. 
Four - buff. Scary. Deadly. 
Apocolypse Squad Part 2  Small lads who dont derese to be in danger: 
  -Apep, Naga boi  Legs mutate into a cool tail. Hisses, fangs. Adorable loves the sun. bout 20 years old. 
Chris. Camp leader! Biig dad type, redhead, buff, likes gardening and camping, very outdoorsy. Little awkward but great.
Small child Talise- nickname tails? ..   Blind and slightly traumatized by the car crash that killed his mother and ended up with glass in his eyes, very sensitive to noise n textures.     Ends up mutating tails.  6 v young n smol  blocks n colourin
Shirin Parvis. Crystal boi .. trained solider/ royalty.  Tried to warn people before the apoc hit and failed. Now tries to protect the small group of surviors he stumpbles across. 
 Zephaniah, mutation turns him into a  Chameleon basically, just.. a human one. He  Prefers Zeph. Big gamey Nerd-  gets a pet gecko.  16. Quiet. Loves Lazar skirmish and lazers. 
Moyachi, Cactus boi!! Plant bab. Loves water and has clear/lime green tinted aloe/herbal helpful blood. Spikes up at defense from bad people 18/ 19   likes drawing. Pretty grumpy and needs a break.
Colin, nicknames: Coco,  Lady bug lad, who is baby trans  mutation resulted in a weird Red/Orange skin condition basically.  Can predict weather v accurately.       Ballet/dance, 14   Likes cooking. 
Hotaru , Firefly bby  - Glowy bub with antenna,  possibly mutates wings.. Sassy and tired. Turns nocturnal as the apoc progressed. Also becomes Colins first love <3
Zeno  A Siren of sorts.  DC/ hip hopper/   Lost his arm in apoc.  He loooves music alot. Very purple aesthetic and checkerboards.
Liren Pichi, deaf peaches n cream aesthetic boi- Nickname Pichi.  He is alone during the apoc, sneaks aboard and ship and goes missing..
Neighbours AU:
They all live on the homeworld, Ermioni.
Lesbabs:
Blake Aglaia  A human with a gift of being able to put emotions into glass balls.. Red head, quite fem, but gay, sweet, but not mousy. 
Lynx ?? An alien and human, the alien somewhat resides inside its host but they coexist. Sometimes goes feral.  Alien half likes to go by Perse  (Percy)  They have cool looking saliva- viens that run down their arms that are pretty cool- sharper nails/claws. Tendrils. Large ol mouth. Lots of pointy ass teef. Lynx likes to train,go to gym, and kick ass. Big ass butch energy.
Demon fam:
Hyacinth  A six-armed demon with serious parent energy. Big gardener, his body grows flowers depending on his moods/strength of emotions. Purple neck length hair. Great at comfort and cooking. 
Rhys  A Demon with a great curiosity about humans has a sibling, Feri.  Rhys is a big nerd, but very hard to get to know. Not great with emotions, comes across a tad distant and cold without always meaning too. Loves candles and lots of autumn aesthetic. 
Anthos, AKa Ant. Rhys and Hy’s accidentally created/summoned a toddler.. and hes fucking adorable. 
Vato - V   Hy has another bub later on who's more purpley blue with red curled horns and 4 arms.. No tail.. 4 eyes. V cute and inquisitive. Less noisy and wreckless than Ant. 
Roommates:
Douglas Connelly  A regular chubby human bean! Learning to become a chef. He loves food, loves cooking and also loves dancing. Hes a big guy, big cudddler, but a little shy and akward at times. 
Donovan Amores  Real fricking cool and smokin hot Bartender with a love for dogs. Dougs roommate. Has glowing fuckin orbs- donates his heart to a fucking god is smooth as fuck, background heavily Spanish, moved when young.
Haris Alaksim Real name (lost in translation, Huitzilopochtli God of sun and war) ) - A god whom Dono is very close with and donates his heart two one every 3 years during the day of the highest sun. He is a god / Mouros.    Donovan refers to him as “Dios gentil”  or “ Viejo colibrí sabio”   (“El viejo colibrí sabio es un dios gentil” (The old wise hummingbird is a gentle god.)
Donovans Family
Rem (Looks after magical creatures- Cane is from Haris)
Oscar  (Not sure what trinket or power but He’s just a casual store worker w/ good arms. Surprisingly good with knives- perhaps has one from Haris?)
Nicole  (His only sister Makes clothes..possibly got some ability to do with seasons..?  Perhaps earrings or a bracelet from Haris)
Javi  (Makes jam, cute boy, wears cloaks. Maybe has a cute little jar necklace or magic jar??)
Luca (Trans bookkeeper- Talks to Haris most often and likes to ask questions..Has precious books...Possibly a special pen..) 
Forest bois!!
Cypress The soul of the forest - Mentor of Rem. Very calm, very wise. Kinda like master oogway type. 
Unicorn boi, Hes rare, missing a chunk of his horn. Dont hurt him. He doesnt even have a name.
Fyn. Mushroom boy. Protects a gate. Lost his twin during a human-caused fire. Very mad about it. 
Fie. Bat boy. Loves fruit. 
Moh. Fairy/incubus hybrid.  
Tucker. Bunny boi, Best friends with Ainsley. Got some like, punk vibes about him, piercings n such. Not as soft as one would expect but still nice at heart.
Ainsley. Fawn boi, clums, shy, round glasses,  Looks smart but doesn't always know stuff. Very unsure of self. 
Experiment AU: 
Izekiel Iris A being of Paint. Hes made of paint. He has trauma from being experimented on. Slightly depressed. Loves art, loved creating. also regresses to try to deal with said PTSD.  Hard to get to know at first. 
Matty  (Matthew Libelle)   An experiment, part human, part lizard, part dragon. Much smol.  Hes fucking baby and i adore him alot please do ask anything and everything about him. 
Cult bois:
-Nero Aakil   (Means Genius/Orange blossom)   Orange bub  - Leader. Smart. Telepathic link with all cult members.  V corrupted…  (Parents were rich and ignorant)
-Mao Cerise   Pink - Ditzy, Looks after their ‘little bird’ (aka Jey) 
-Jey Michael Cherubim   Fallen angel -  Corrupted..desaturating and weak.. Was summoned by the cult and captured as a trophy. 
-Jaden Hirav  Looks after a garden of plants both harmless and some not for master. Previously Neros old pet..His  The family was alright but he was moreso raised by like his mum and bro. He was kidnapped from his garden and never seen again. The cult ritual to initiate him into the group failed and he was spliced with plants making him near useless to the cult.
-Rowan maverick - Now known as  Rogue- Red. Lost their tongue. Does Not follow orders to the T but gets their job done.   Has another voice/god/soul looking out for them… Very assassin ready, very perceptive. Wants to get out the cult but knows theyre too far in.. Cool glowy words in the air because they don't have their tongue. Possibly only lives of medication and vitamin pills..possible OD? Possible addiction. They struggle alot with it. 
P - Pax -  God who watches over Rowan. Was killed by the Master but their spirt lives on.
Cato.   Purple - Another smart one.. Possible Wiccan?  Sadist. Mean. Tall.  Scary. Abuse. Twisted. Loves being in the cult. Eventually wants to host Masters soul.. 
Gin Short for Ginger but the real name is Xanthe.  Blind. Also another assassin like Rogue but more obedient.  Doesn't talk often out of fear. 
Benjamin Brandy  (Benji. B) is Gins friend, Gin is trying not to get him involved in the cult but was too late as B had previously already been cursed and dealt with mythical beings..
 Silver bub. Demir. A demon summoned by the cult to complete the collection. Wants out, very stressed.  
Adopted AU: (This is like a mess of some of the boys but younger and in a different timeline to their universes smushed together intoa kinda cute school/adoption au idea.)
Matthew is smol autistic, malnourished and heavily abused both mentally and physically, leading to selective mutism and being a small fragile easily tired bab.  He loves hanging in the library once he gets used to going to some schooling. Gets tutored by Chris? Goes to camp and helps around n has fun..
Jaden, loves the school garden, and likes science class. His family is alright, However he ends up mostly raised by his sister? Or brother? 
Iz is the lil art bab, also in foster care of a big family, not so much abused but semi neglected. Quiet.
Nero is the gifted nerdy child..Parents ignorant. They love history and fictional books and reading and learning.
Benji is the slightly older kid whos possibly maybe a little behind or delayed or..something, they help out with other kids as a buddy? They like to do cooking classes.
DA AU
So this Au was like..the Septic tank births all the egos.
Angus first- He has..some kinda strength I imagine/..
Then Anti, Hen, Jackie. Marv. 
Chase -  He kills himself because of Glitch- also falls in the tank a second time and ends up with odd powers. 
Glitch Starts off as very bad and misunderstood. Turns out they were just highly unstable and required medical treatment.  Their real name is Arius and they cant stomach solid foods all the time. Mostly a liquid diet. They have glitchy fits/static seizures. Very unpleasant. Can enter tech, and its not so great, can get trapped. Can absorb certain amounts of electricity because of this they Got hit by  ightning once and has epic lighting scars!! Up arms..some on neck. All over his chest and back. 
Septic clone AU
Sean giving up bits of soul to make clones ends up in coma
Experiments and torture and odd shit with the egos ensues??
Minecraft AU??  
Yeah i had weird ideas for a cute minecraft gang of minecrafters who had accidents involving getting merged/recded with other creatures traits ect. 
Vail.  -Vex / Human
Snow golom hybrid? Or Blaze?
Slimey boi
Kitsune
Panda lad.
Pokebabs au
Mainly for Matty, Iz and Blank.. were they have pokemon forms and when bonded with a human long enough can evolved into human forms?? 
Horned AU  (With Troiseh/Glitch-in-the-static)
Shiro  -Prince lad  (This is their lad :3)
Junji - Battery..whump/slave/lost prince 
Isao Asuka -  Shiros Royal Guard 
Alien AU
Hami if he were..alien instead of being a human in an apoc basically. 
Angel AU stuff: 
Good omens inspired boi
Leo Halvar   Part..humany..demon..Cambion are according to google "In late European mythology and literature, a cambion is the offspring of an incubus, succubus, or another demon with a human, or of an incubus and succubus"
Ryan  Hot archangel guy: One wing, demon hunter thing.. Good kinda reforming from a less nice lifestyle previously. 
Mute angel possibly demon idk- -   Latif? Emmet? Evan? 
Long fringe shy boy-  Cael / Lox
15 notes · View notes
devolympian · 5 years ago
Text
Two days, then a year.
After arising out of the cold, black water of the river Styx. Alexander watched as his mother ran away, screaming about her cursed child, and begging Zeus to forgive her. Eventually, her scream died out and her son could no longer see her.
He couldn’t understand what had happened. Where was he? Did he not just drown? Why did his body feel heavy?
Alexander was confused, scared, hurt but most of all, he was oddly relieved. 
The mother who had hated him, wrote him off as nothing more then a failure, hit, screamed, and cursed his very name, had just run away. Alexander was free.
He could live a happy life now. He could be with his friend, and the two could spend the rest of their lives together. His sister could grow up without a monster of a woman as her mother, enjoy her life along with him.
However, they would first need to get home.
Putting his clothes onto his soaking wet body, Alexander grabbed his crying sisters hand and they began to walk up the river bed. Surely, there had to be someone here, someone who could take them home, and tell them everything would work out. 
They walked for what seemed to be hours, maybe even days, yet they saw no signs of people or even a town. The place they were in felt so empty and lonesome that it was strangely soothing, almost as if Alexander could just lay down and sleep, and never wake up. However, he forced himself to keep walking, he needed to get his sister out of this place after all, so he was not allowed to rest. 
He continued to walk along the river. Even as his legs began to feel weak he forced them to support him and continued to walk. Even as his feet became sore and blistered he ignored the pain and continued to walk. Even as Fiona became exhausted and could go no farther, he lifted her onto his back and continued to walk.
The air around him seemed to grow colder as he moved farther away from where his mother had tried to drown him and he could feel his eyes growing heavier with every step. He knew that he was going to die here, that was unavoidable, and as far as he cared,a no-issue. But, he needed to get Fiona to safety.
“She’s the only who matters, I need to get her home.”
That was what he thought.
It was what eventually became his only motivation to escape this strange place. His mother, his home, even his best friend, he had to force them all out of his mind to focus on this one goal. He must keep Fiona alive.
As his legs began to buckle and tears rolled down his face, Alex noticed a strange sound next to him. The ring of a bell.
He turned his head and saw a large fishing boat next to him.
Without a second thought, the young boy walked up the wooden plank that connected the boat to the land, set his little sister down onto the deck and collapsed in an exhausted heap.
2 days after walking onto the boat, Alexander woke up in a comfortable bed.
Alexander was sore all over and unable to move, but he could tell that the room he was in was far larger then the one in his home. It reminded Alexander of the bedroom a prince would have in the picture books him and his friend read together.
Unable to sleep anymore, but still too sore to move, Alexander laid in the bed his mind trying it’s best to work out what had happened to him and Fiona. He was scared, of course, but also, pleasantly relieved. He was no longer near that river and surely his sister was safe.
A long while passed by with Alexander simply laying in the bed until anything of note happened, the simple sound of a clock on the wall being his only company. 
Then, the door opened and two maids stepped into the room carrying food and a change of clothes for Alexander. However, upon seeing the little boy awake, one maid leaves the room while the other helps Alex out of the bed.
The maids where clearly not human. Alexander couldn’t even tell if they were alive.
They had almost translucent blue skin and inky black hair that reminded Alex of dried paint that wasn’t evenly spread out on the canvas. However, their clothes were surprisingly well tailored and in good condition, completely clashing with the women’s other worldly appearances.   
Once Alexander was dressed and fed, the maid who stayed behind lead him into the hall.
It was clear the moment he had woken up in the room that Alexander was in some sort of castle, but, he was surprised at how large it truly was. The dark red colored hall ways seemed to go on for hours, and became even longer whenever him and the maid turned a corner. The eventual sight of stairs was a welcome blessing as far as Alex was concerned.
After even more walking, much to Alex’s  dismay the maid stopped in front of a large golden door, knocked seven times, then quietly stepped to the side.   
Slowly, the door spread open to a large room with onyx floors and a stone ceiling, both decorated in dazzling gems of all shapes and sizes. 
Sitting in metal thrones at the end of the room was a man with pitch black hair and dark blue eyes that seemed to drill into Alexanders very soul, and a fair haired young woman with sun kissed skin. Both where dressed in black robes and wore bronze crowns embedded with bright red rubies and deep blue sapphires.
Next to them was a young girl with wheat colored hair who was happily playing with a smiling Fiona.
Alexander smiles with joy, which soon fades as he notices the mans stern gaze firmly glued to him.   
With a long sigh, the man broke his gaze and simply rubbed his forehead with annoyance. 
He explained to Alex what had happened, how his ferryman had brought the siblings to the castle, how Alex wouldn’t wake up and had slept for two days, how his daughter has been caring for Fiona, and how their mother was no where to be found. 
He also proceeded to tell the boy of what his mother had done, explaining that Alex had been drowned in the river Styx and was now indestructible but that this blessing was a curse in disguise.
Because the Styx is the river of the dead, Alexander would continually attract dangerous creatures and spirits to him and that the only place he would be safe is in the after life.
With all that said, the man introduces himself as Hades, king of the Greek underworld and uncle to the two, and invites the children to stay at his palace until they break Alexander of his curse.  
With no other choice, Alex accepted his uncles invitation and stayed in the underworld with his little sister.
Much to his surprise, it was rather nice in the palace.
The bed was always comfy, food was well prepared and tasted better then anything Alex had ever eaten, and the clothes he was able to wear always fit. It was far better then living with his mother.
Almost everyone was friendly, albeit in their own way. 
Much to his surprise, Alexanders uncle was far kinder than he had assumed and seemed to make sure that him and Fiona were as comfortable in his home as they could be. His wife also treated the two with more kindness then their mother had.
Alex was also able to meet his other relatives. One of them was a teenager who wore winged sandals and had a silly story waiting for Alex every time he visited. Which was a lot.
His name was apparently Hermes and Alex would often go with him to the Underworlds village to have fun. Which often lead to Alex being lectured by his uncle and having to write apology letters to the people they pick pocketed.
For a year, Fiona and Alex lived a happy life in the underworld. However, Alex still held onto to a strong desire, a selfish wish to go back to his home and friend.
He wasn’t sure why, but this desire made him feel a deep guilt. It was like the thought of going back would betray everyone who had helped him and Fiona and spit in the face of those who had taken them in.
One day, Alexanders uncle called him to a large room.
In the center of the room sat a wooden desk, where mountains upon mountains of papers had been stacked and behind the desk, with a pen in hand, sat the god Hades.
The two sat in almost complete silence with only the sound of Hades pen, scratching against the documents he signed, to fill the room.
After a long ten minutes or so, his uncle sat the pen down and asked Alexander a rather simple question.
“Would you like to go back to the surface?”
Alexanders eyes widened as the shock hit him.
It was what he had wanted, but he didn’t know why Hades was asking this. Had he done something wrong? Was he being thrown out? What will happen to Fiona?
He was confused, happy, and rather sad at the same time and tears soon streamed down his face.
His uncle, rather quickly, explained that Alexander had done nothing wrong and was not being thrown out. It was simply that his desire to go back to the world of the living had been noticed.
Hades then informed the young boy that there were several tunnels that could take him to and from the underworld almost instantly, and that he would be free to use them as much as he wanted.
Alexanders face then glowed with joy as he grew a large and happy smile. He thanked and hugged his uncle, and got ready to leave the room and go see his friend.
However, Hades was forced to remind Alex of another issue.
The curse of the river Styx.
As soon as he gets to the surface, Alex will be attacked by demons, monsters, and even gods if they desired.
And with that reminder, Hades decided to make a deal with his nephew.
Alexander could return to the surface, but he first needed to be able to defend him self.
The next morning, Alex got up early and left the castle with Hermes. 
They traveled out of the village and up into the dark mountains of the underworld. Near the top they found a small cave that they had to travel through in a single file line.
It wasn’t a long walk, much to Alexanders surprise, however, the sound of the dead moaning and the ink colored darkness that surrounded them, made the young boy want out of the cave as soon as possible.
The exit couldn't come soon enough and Alex found himself standing in a field of cabbages and other assorted vegetables. 
However, what caught Alexanders eye was the large, almost pitch black castle which sat on a cliff in front of the field. And, adding even more to the surprise he felt, Hermes began walking him towards it.
Eventually, they stopped at the bottom of the cliff where the castle sat and Hermes instructed Alex to start climbing.
Alex stared at his brother and assumed he was joking, only to be answered with the god flying up and leaving the child by himself.
In shock, Alex looked up, the jagged rocks in front of him glaring back.
A voice in his head soon began to shout at him, demanding that he turn around, go back to Hades castle, forget about his friend, and live happily in the underworld for the rest of his life.
He could do that, it would be easy, he wouldn’t have to suffer.
Alexander then began to climb the cliff, forcing these thoughts out of his mind.
He fell quite often at first, landing on his back almost all the time. The rocks hurt his hands and the climbing made his legs sore. Soon, his entire body was screaming for him to stop and just go back.
Alexander kept trying, swallowing down all the pain and exhaustion he felt.
With a loud scream of pain, tear, and determination he continued to climb until, finally, he felt the top and pulled him self up onto the grass of the cliff.
Standing there, glaring at him with judgmental eyes was the woman who would change Alexanders life.
His new mentor, the warrior queen of shadows, Scathach.
3 notes · View notes