#I'm having a bit of a crisis lads

[yearningaces]

Ok ok enough of humans being scared

I want a monster that's scared, that's the prey in the relationship, that's instincts are so different it makes you realize just how scary you can accidentally be

Reader is described as strong/heavier/ carnivorous/a predator (keep in mind though, this is a human being compared to small rabbit-like creatures so regardless of your stature it applies)

Reader is referred to as 'he' once in passing, beyond that everything is up to interpretation

I want a monster that's intimidated and horrified by humans because humans are a predatorial species, specifically pursuit predators. We just keep going- humans do insane shit for fun or adrenaline, or because it's a dire situation and their brains have hit fight/flight and at that point has dropped any barrier of "can't do that, too much effort would hurt the body" and will lead to humans doing insane feats in crisis mode, even if it damages their body. Once the adrenaline wears off they're gonna feel it but essentially at least for a short time a human is capable of hulking out.

And I want you to imagine with me, say a rabbit monster, small, quick, agile. No excessive strength because they're made to evade which means being light and being fast.

A bunny-boy if you will. Triangled nose that twitches when he smells things, upright ears that when relaxed lean back against his head. Fur patches on random body parts like arms or legs or along the spine from his hair to his hips where the humanoid body morphs into a pair of anthropomorphic rabbit legs. Springy lad.

I'm calling him Nyx

And Nyx adores his human partner so much. You.

He just adores you, you know that post about the rabbit with his gf that's 3x his size? Similar case but this rabbits got a human for a partner.

And whenever he brings you home to his families burrow, you note there are many burrows of different families around here. Almost only burrows. As if it's intentional.

Now, in your eyes you're an average human. Maybe a bit strong when you need to be, but your not the strongest or fastest or smartest. Even if you're very capable you're not the best of the best, and You've told Nyx this whenever he goes on his tangents about being the lucky guy to score such a capable partner.

But you realize just how different you are once he brings you inside and you have to duck down to get into the burrow. When you see the children and the adults alike freeze as if something truly terrifying has entered their home.

You have to soften yourself right now, overly deferring to Nyx in a way you never thought you'd need to just so this family of prey monsters will feel safer. Strange isn't it?

And Nyx -happy as can be- drags you along, not ducking, not concerned, not out of place, brings you to the kitchen to meet his Da and his Ma. His Da is at the stove cooking something a bit clumsily as if there's something he's unfamiliar with as his Ma is setting the table with one spot given the most room. And they both freeze for a moment, noses twitching, taking you in before it's Nyx's Ma that finally takes the plunge and greets you with what you can clearly define as nerves.

No one else seems to notice though, or remark on it.

You'd followed your little Nyx here wondering how his family would threaten you about 'if you ever hurt him' the way human families would, but these creatures seem overly appeasing. Nonconfrontational.

Eventually you ask Nyx's Ma -as she seems to be the one in charge- if she has any questions for you. She takes a breath, looking back to her own partner and mentally decides to ask something. "What sort of human are you?"

It takes you some time to understand her words, but Nyx chimes in before you can. "A loyal one." And the way his gaze flutters up to you, so enamored and adoring, his form leaning into your side where your arm automatically wraps around him. It must be comforting with how he sinks into your hold with a content little sigh. You never did notice how fragile he is until right now when it's so obvious around his families home how out of place you are.

With a tilt of your head, you feel the need to experiment a little. With one hand you grip onto his shoulder, supporting the weight easily and with the other hand you grab onto his hip. And lift up.

He's light- so, so light. Weighing nothing to your heavier body that's built for heavier task than the rabbits swiftness and agility.

Nyx is having the time of his life, delighted at the curious display you've demonstrated, his family has their own shock to get over- as do you. With such care, you set him back down again with the absent minded remark of- "You weigh nothing, hun... I gotta feed you more." Because to you that's what it means, he's not eating enough.

To the families confusion, Nyx clarifies for you. "It's a human thing. They feed others they care about, really big ordeal food is. Share it with loved ones, make it to express care or appreciation, even old phrases like "the way to a humans heart is through their stomach", it's a big deal!" And he's so delighted to explain something you never really thought about too much yourself because it's instinct. Natural. But there's something so sweet about how he describes it and he is right, so you nod your head, holding him close once more as he turns to you. "And I promise I'm eating enough, I'm just made to be a lot lighter than predators like you." His tone is soft and comforting as if intentionally trying to appease your own instincts you've never given much thought of.

With a tilt of your head, you shrug and agree but mentally swear to give him bigger portions in the future regardless.

He leaves to help his Pa in the kitchen, and you're left to entertain a family of rabbit-like monsters. It's surprisingly easy when the youngest are released and immediately ask you to lift them up like how you did Nyx. So you do, one after the other, occasionally giving a little toss where they're caught immediately once more.

They're so weightless and tiny, almost like your stuffed animals when you were little. But they squeal and giggle like they've never been lifted so easily before. As if it's impressive.

You chatter aimlessly with the older rabbitesk creatures, speaking of how you and Nyx met, what sort of accommodations you've worked out to live in a place suited to both you and your much smaller companion, whatever topics come to mind. Though you seem to be the one unintentionally driving the conversations, no matter how socially adverse you feel, or how confident. The floor is yours, practically given to you without any trying to speak over you a single time.

When you sit for supper you note that you'd been given a different plate, the plate that Nyx and his Da had been working on. A clumsily cut, undercooked steak. Not wanting to be rude, and knowing red meat won't hurt if it's not entirely cooked through, you tear into it.

You don't quite notice any of the stares until you hear your little Nyx voice his thoughts.

"See? I told you, eats like a carnivore he does!" His voice beaming with pride. You glance over with a confused expression only to really notice how every other rabbit creature sitting at the table is staring at you with different expressions. That's when it really kicks into your head your plate is the only one with any meat.

You give a sheepish grin and instead eat one of the steamed slices of eggplant that's on your plate.

Strange isn't it? To be human and to be viewed as something dangerous... But I suppose you are, just not in ways you'd notice because it's so normal for you.

Not to them it isn't, not to those monsters that are more prey than predator.

Isn't it just so strange?

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Divisa; One

Parings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 3,052

Themes; reality hopping, alternative universe (same universe, just things are a little different), doppelganger, multiple endings, slowburn

Warnings; swearing, maybe an existential crisis or two

Notes; Hey guys! Divisa is finally out!! This won't be following the original story at all. Just bits and pieces here and there. This is going to be different compared to “Twist of Fate”– it's also going to be shorter. I'd say possibly fifteen chapters? There will be five different endings; Four endings will be with each love interest and the fifth will be with all of them. The original MC will not be a white lotus (aka someone who seems sweet, but is actually a bitch) and certain things will be changed. This is based on the universe of LADS, but the whole in-game story doesn't mean anything– unless I mention it specifically! You'll see what I mean.

It’s gonna have a bit of a slow start, but I hope you stick around for it regardless! If there's any smut, it'll be in the endings. So, this is only rated as mature purely for all of the swearing! (ps I'm sorry for naming the reader's father, but I felt it was necessary to do so)

Also! This will have a sporadic upload schedule, so if I finish a chapter, I'll post it soon after. There's no specific day I'll upload this <3 Hope that's okay.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

Divisa

//Latin and Italian for: Divided//

||adj.||

Split into parts; separated

Not united; in disagreement

○o。. .。o○

“Seriously, how much shit does Grandma have up here?” Another box joins the stack of five and you wipe sweat from your forehead with your sleeve.

It was your day off today and while you'd love to spend it relaxing, instead you offered to help your elderly grandma clean out her attic— because “you're her favourite grandchild”, her words…You were her only grandkid.

You had already been there for well over an hour, cleared out five boxes so far, and grandma still wasn't home yet. She was at the farmer's market before you even arrived, so she should've been back by now, but you know your grandma is a chatterbox. She'd yap her whole life away if she could.

You take your jacket off and tie it around your waist, slinging your mini-backpack on once more– it's a habit to always have it on you. You never know when you might need something. Like your chapstick, hand sanitizer, a pen…It's almost a mystery how the bag isn't heavy as hell with how much junk is in it–

You head back up the stairs and glance around at the almost empty attic. You wondered what exactly grandma was going to do with the place after it was clean– maybe she'd turn it into a room for you? You shake your head at the thought and go back to moving boxes.

With a heavy box in hand, you head back toward the stairs. The box slips just slightly within your clammy hands and you bring your knee up to help keep a hold of it. This, however, causes you to fall. Your shoulder slams into the sharp corner of an even heavier box and something on top of the box makes a loud noise as it hits the hardwood floor.

You suck in a deep breath to disguise the pain in your shoulder and quickly roll over to check on the fallen object, internally hoping it wasn't something really valuable. But once you spot it, you're confused.

It was…a jewelry box?

Your grandma wasn't one to wear jewelry, so this was out of the ordinary. The wooden box also seems pretty…old.

You pick up the weathered box and lift the lid to make sure the hinge still works. That's whenever you notice something wrapped in a cloth.

You set the box to the side and pick up the cloth. It was hefty, so there must be some kind of jewelry wrapped up in it. Maybe a necklace?

You unwrap it and before you can look at the necklace, a signature at the corner of the cloth catches your eye.

It was your grandpa's name.

You have never personally met the man, but your grandma loved to tell stories about him. The stories were a little…odd, but you would blame that on her being old and the possible beginnings of dementia. She would tell tales of another time period entirely, how grandpa was a prince and she was wrongly deemed as a saint, how she had to run away with your mother and grandpa couldn't come back here with them…

While it was a beautiful story, you often wondered if it was just a coping mechanism and something bad had happened to your grandpa, but you didn't dare ask your mother.

It seems as if the men in your family were never present, so maybe…there's a curse that only affects the men? Seeing as your father wasn't present either, but your mom had so many pictures of him. You even kept a picture of the two of them in your wallet.

Those thoughts aside, it seems like grandpa was an actual person, at least…even though this cloth– handkerchief, you realize– appeared to be just as old as the box itself, but that can't be possible.

You shake your head and set the handkerchief back into the jewelry box, turning your attention to the necklace.

It was honestly a rather beautiful gemstone necklace. It almost seemed familiar somehow, like you've seen it in a Marvel movie or something. It was a deep red-wine coloured stone with silver wire coiled around it like a vine. It hung from a thin, silver chain.

It was pretty and you did love collecting shiny things, so maybe you could ask your grandma if you could keep it. You pocket the necklace for now and, as you go to stand back up, you spot a piece of folded up paper on the floor. You grab the paper between two fingers and open it up. The tiny scrap of paper only has four words written on it.

The Reality Stone || Aether

Aether?

That word seems…oddly familiar to you. Why– oh, right!

Your phone buzzes with a notification.

‘Rafayel is waiting for you’

A scoff slips from your lips and you shake your head. You did need to check up on your game today and do your dailies…and you did make a huge dent in the attic, so you're sure your grandma would allow you to rest for the remainder of the day. Then, tomorrow, she could help you with the rest!

With your decision made, you put your phone away and descend down the stairs. But then, your pocket feels oddly warm. Intensely so– It's like it was burning a hole through your jeans and you pause mid-step to grab the necklace from your pocket, but you miss a step with your heel and you feel your body fall forward.

Panic spreads throughout your chest, because you know this won't be a pain-free tumble. You'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle or wrist. Your eyes squeeze shut on impulse and instead of your body slamming into hardwood, you felt a face full of…grass?

“What the fuc—”

As you sit up in a panic, your body freezes.

…how the hell did you end up outside?

You scan your surroundings, but you don't recognize where you are.

You're surrounded by jasmines. Beautiful, fragrant flowers as far as the eye can see. A couple of scattered cherry blossom trees, but you were not in a forest. You were just on the outskirts of a city.

With a sigh, you take the reason for your troubles out of your pocket. The necklace. You give the red gem the dirtiest look you can muster before reluctantly clipping it around your neck. If this is what sent you here, you might as well keep it safe, until you figure out how to get back home. Then, you grab your phone.

Maybe…it just sent you to the next city over and your grandma could come pick you up.

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone, but your thumb freezes before you can tap anything.

“The date…What in the..” You can't even finish your sentence. You were so confused and panic was beginning to sink in. “It's 2048?! This…must be a joke, right?”

You rake your fingers through your hair and rise to your feet. “It's fine. Let's try calling grandma,” you murmur to yourself. You try to keep your breathing calm, but you can already feel yourself beginning to panic as you hold the phone up to your ear.

It rings…and rings…and rings…

“This number is no longer in service—”

“Whatever. Seriously, whatever. This is fine. Great, even. Everything is a-ohhhkay. Perfectly normal.” You pocket your phone and rest your head in your hand for a moment, then you take a deep breath and nod your head.

“Alright, I should head to the city first. No use freaking out. It's not like that'll get me home any faster.” You clench your hand into a fist and desperately hope you'll at least be able to reach the city before nightfall…

…The good news is, the city wasn't far at all. Well, it was far, but not three-hours-away type of far! So, you made it well before dark. According to your phone, it was only 5pm so you still had time to find a place for the night. Hopefully whatever place you decide to stay will take your cash…but who knows maybe 2024 money is outdated in 2048.

“I'm sorry, we don't take this form of payment anymore.”

This was the third hotel you've checked tonight…You take a seat on a bench near a large water fountain and hold your head in your hands. Even if it's twenty-four years in the future, they should still take your cash! This is insane–

As you tilt your head back to wallow in your sadness, you notice a billboard in the distance and you can feel the blood drain from your face.

“No, no, no—”

You whip out your phone, making sure you have all your apps before you click on one specific one. You quickly tap the screen, murmuring, “Come on…come on..” And once the game finally loads in, you navigate to the guidance tab.

“The Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034…fourteen years ago. Fourteen plus 2034,” you nervously mutter as you chew on your thumbnail. “That's 2048…that billboard clearly said Linkon City.” You hold your hand over your mouth as dread fills your stomach.

You weren't in the real world…of course that's why your cash wouldn't work. Were you in a coma? Did the fall hurt your head?

No…if that were the case, you wouldn't have taken your bag with you, you wouldn't feel so panicky and cold right now…or could you? You could be self aware and in a coma. But you didn't want to be, so you decided to brush the most realistic thought aside.

“They recognized this money, so maybe…” In the real world, old money could sell for a lot. Especially when it comes to collectors. So maybe you could find someone who would buy all of your old cash. That would definitely work for now, but what about in the future? You'd need money for however long you're going to be here…ugh, does that mean you need to find a job?

Wait…

Wanderers and evols.

There were creatures here.

The thought sends shivers down your spine and you shrug your bag off to put your jacket back on.

As long as you didn't go into a rift you should be fine, right? You're almost positive wanderers never came out to terrorize people—

Your thoughts are cut off by a loud scream and your head jerks in the direction of it with wide eyes.

There was a big ass blue portal in the middle of the street and fucking creatures were coming out of it!?

What the hell was your luck today??

You sling your bag back on, getting ready to run before a bright light blinds you and you shield your eyes. Squinting them to try and see where the light was coming from.

Once the light faded, your heart stuttered in your chest.

A tall man stood in the center of the road as the blue rift dissipates. His wispy, ash-blonde hair blowing in the wind as he turns his head to the side to talk to his companion next to him. From where you are, you can just barely make out his blue eyes.

Xavier?

Then…who was next to him—

Y…You?

You slowly pull up your hood as you stare at the uncanny sight.

While she clearly didn't share the same hair or body type as you, everything else was…identical. Her eyes, her face…It was like looking in a mirror.

You were the main character, but you were not, at the same time.

“Y/n, are you sure you're not overexerting yourself?” You could barely hear his voice over the wind, but your breath catches in your throat at your name coming from Xavier’s lips.

“I'm fine, I promise.” You– She replies with a small, almost pained, smile.

“This is some bullshit,” you murmur under your breath, tapping your finger against your leg as you think about the unfairness of the situation.

Seriously!? You were brought here and you– gosh, you really need to come up with a name for her before this gets confusing. Gemini? Sure, that works.

You were brought here and Gemini was already here?? It's so unfair to have two yous in the same timeline, especially when one already had a head start!

The male leads would definitely sacrifice you for her. They'd probably even tear out your heart, thinking it would fix hers.

You tug at your hair with a small groan of annoyance.

Fuck. Fuck–

Deep breaths...

“Alright. I guess I'm staying up tonight.” You finally compose yourself and set your sight on a neon sign just across the road. “The Nest seems like a good place to start. I could sell this old cash and hopefully get enough for a room tonight.” You pull out a black face mask from your bag and put it on so only your eyes are uncovered.

You'd have to be careful since you and Gemini were identical. You really didn't want to get kidnapped instead of her. Being the main character of an otome game is tough work and, honestly, she can have it. You didn't want to get involved.

It's not like the male leads would ever spare a second glance at you, so you'd surely be fine…Right?

☆ミ

The bell overheard chimes as you step inside the dimly lit bar. The smell of cheap liquor and smoke hitting your nose through the mask and you hold back the urge to cough.

Act cool…

You take a seat at the bar, drumming your fingers against the marbled counter as an employee makes his way over to you.

Without saying a word, you slide a 2017 quarter toward him and he raises a brow before placing an embossed business card down in front of you.

Okay, so if you remember correctly, whatever you write on here will disappear and then, the bartender will take the card and leave. If you have someone who is interested, he'll be back with a drink for you.

You grab a pen from the table and quickly scribble down on the paper.

‘Anyone interested in old money’

Honestly, you should probably be a bit careful, but you had no other way to gain information besides taking a few risks.

The ink disappears and the bartender takes the card, nodding at you before making his way to the back.

You just hope the glass wasn't black, though you doubt it. If the glass was black, it would mean you'd need to pay a high price for information– Perhaps your life. However, since you were only looking for a potential buyer, the chances of the glass being black were slim to none.

The employee comes back with a dark green shot glass and sets it down.

You look up at him with a raised brow and the employee decides to take pity on you, tapping the counter next to the glass. “Green means someone is interested and they're willing to pay a lot.” Then, he jerks his head in the direction of the stairs– the same stairs you recall Rafayel walking up before the main character got caught in one of the more recent chapters.

“After you drink this, head upstairs and it's the first door on your right.”

You nod your head and turn your body as you pull down your mask. You can't afford to let anyone see your face. You quickly down the shot and pull your mask back up, the liquid burning as it goes down your throat.

As an extra payment, you give the bartender a 2008 penny– borrowing change from your grandma was good in times like this. You had so many old coins, though your cash was closer to 2024. Either way, you still be able to make some money since they'd be over twenty-four years old.

Then, you leave the bar and head up the stairs. Your hand lightly hovering above the railing until you reach the top, then you head into the room on the right.

It appeared to be a VIP room.

An angled couch lined one half of the wall with a short table in the center. A few unopened drinks and a suitcase sat atop the table and in the corners of the room, near another door were two men. Bodyguards, maybe?

You take your seat, putting your mini-bookbag on your lap so you could be ready to show off your cash– glad that your mask covered half of your face because you were starting to feel a little nervous.

After a few minutes of waiting, your nervousness turns to annoyance.

You roll your sleeves up and pull your hood down as if to show the bodyguard that you're safe and they can let their guy in now. Then, you lean back on the couch and cross your arms over your chest.

Seriously, how long would this dick keep you waiting—

The door across the room swings open and someone…familiar steps inside.

Well, that's just peachy, isn't it?

You try not to let your surprise show and sit up straight as the white haired man takes a seat in front of you and makes himself comfortable.

“You seem a little too young to be in possession of old money. Did you steal it perhaps?” As Sylus speaks with one hand, you can feel nervousness sinking in once more. You clear your throat and pull out your wallet, tossing it toward him.

“See for yourself.” You jerk your chin, hands resting on your knees. “I've even got old coins.” You take out your coin purse. “My family used to collect them, but since I've got nowhere to go…I might as well sell them now.” You shrug, doing your best to concoct a story on the spot.

“Hmm…” Sylus pulls the bills out of your wallet, holding them under a light, before he nods. Though his eyes do falter on something in your wallet.

You know it’s not your ID or anything, since you made sure to take that out beforehand, but maybe the picture of your mom and dad?

As if to prove you right, Sylus takes the picture out, holding it between two fingers as he flips it over to inspect the back.

“What's a Deepspace Hunter's daughter doing at the Nest?” His eyes flick toward you and he raises an eyebrow.

A…

Huh?

I hope y'all liked this chapter! It's going a bit slow, but it should be fine! I'm honestly not sure where to go from here, I'm just making it up on the spot. I have a loose plot from beginning to end, but I don't really have anything in the middle. So...

It'll be fine!

I'm sure y'all didn't expect your father to be from this universe! (I'll apologize again for giving him a name lmao) I'm also gonna say sorry beforehand if Sylus or anyone else seems a bit out of character— I'm doing my best.

Taglist; @ladyparamount , @the-love-of-my-life96 , @rui-drawsbox , @deputy-videogamer

[ego-meliorem-esse]

Could you talk a bit about Matthew and Alfred relationship? Our boys need love too

The lads! The fellas! The absolute units!

Bear with me here I wanna give a little bit of a context and a personal explanation as to why I'm really fascinated with these two countries in general.

If there is one nationfolk relationship that comes as close to pure and friendly as it possibly can, it would be the Us-Can one. Of course, it has major problems and unavoidable disputes. But let me tell you, as a balkan, ex-yugoslav cretin, I cannot help but be intriqued with the way these two comunicate. They make fun of eachother sure, they have disputes and squables, sometimes outright clashes, but when there is crisis in the US for example, all I hear is Americans straight up saying "ok well time to move to Canada". It's fascinating to me! As a Croat who, after returning from Serbia from a 3 day trip, brought home souveniers (key chains mostly, with the Serbian flag) I was yelled at by my dad who afterwards didn't talk to me for a few days. All because I dared to bring this enemy countrys flag into our home. Now, I was born in 1999. I have no connection to the war 8 years prior. No excusable, personal vandetta. But still it' s very much acceptable to hate so strongly. And even if it wasn't 8 years that passed, but 80, there still would be a widely accepted resentment. But alas, I am not talking about people, cus frankly people are just people. Alliances and relations between countries are another thing. Imagine sharing a huge fucken border with another country and being friends. My euro brain is imploding. Uncomprehensible.

Now I do understand the US is often described as a bit of a phycho, and frankly Canada is an expert at dealing with the phycho. Kudos. Keep the yanks from whipping out their home protection assault rifles and unleashing hell fire is risky shit. Canada manages tho. What I'm really interested in is the USA's view of Canada. They aren't a threat. They aren't suspicious. They are a force to be reckoned with tho, but they are friends. If there is one ally the USA can rely on its the maple sucking french/anglo bastards up north. So much history in such a short time. Fascinating.

To relate this to the bros, I think these two understand eachother better than most. Matt is quiet, obsetvand and passive (mostly), while his unit of a brother is loud, idealistic and prone to thinking the world owes him time on the world stage. And it works. Matt is the one to talk to his brother in a way that gets Alfred to listen. H speaks Alfreds language and can communicate with him freely. I think that that is a skill and in the modern era, a privilage that not many have. Not many dare to tell Alfred to his face that he fucked up majorly, but Matt can. He knows he can. Alfred knows he can. So he does. Matt can pull his brother aside after an outburst, and for the lack of a better word, humble him.

Alfred respects his brothers oppinion more then other nations'. He went from seeing Matt as a weak, self-pitying and ambitionless dominion, to accepting his views, ideas and even asking his oppinion on certain matters. I like to draw a parallel here. Matt had to sacrifice everything and himself to have Arthur call him into the war room and ask Matthew for his oppinion. Alfred is not much different. It takes time for Matthews voice to be heard, but when the time comes, it's desperately needed.

Alfred tho, is and always will be Alfred. And if somthing else catches his attention, he will ignore the house on fire across the street. He is prone to isolation and ignoring his brother for extended periods of time, just sending him a tiktok every month or so. That being the only indication to Matt that his brother is alive. Alfred has so much shit going on and his 13 braincells have to spread evenly across to cover it all. His brother is a constant in his life, stable and therefore forgotten.

That being said, I don't think there is another person on Earth Alfred loves more than his brother. Showing it is not something he ever learned tho. He knows he cannot buy his way into showing his love for Matt, so with his lack skills of other forms of love expressions, he does nothing.

As for Matt, he checks up on Alfred as much as he can. His history and past have tought him to expect nothing form the people he loves. So he doesn't. He knows Alfred is his closest ally and best friend, but doesn't ask for anything Alfred himself isn't giving. He is a person who waits to be asked to hang out on Saturday instead of asking his friends himself.

So while almost all I talked about is sad and somewhat negative, I do think the bond and conversations these two share are one of the most honest and true expressions of brotherly love. And by god I usually don't use the world love when describing nation-folk relationships, but in this case there isn't a replacement.

sorry for the personal shit and Alfred slander, I love him.

[ask-commander-arild]

OOC Post:

Hi, there! I'm @jnix-2006 and welcome to my ask blog, ask-commander-arild!! I made this blog for @pkmoth's @motherbound-askapalooza, which took place August 2024!!! After the event ended, I haven't really gotten attention, but it is still very much alive in case any stray Mother fans happen to stumble into this!! But, bear with me, because I don't use tumblr much, so this is all very new to me, haha. Before we start, I feel I should give a little bit of introduction to what exactly this is. So, firstly, what exactly is an Arild? Well, Arild is an OC I created for the game Mother 3 (Heavy spoilers btw)! He can be seen below!

Art done by @pinkalliums!!! Go check them out!!

Say hello to Arild Eskildsen! A young Norwegian lad of 15 years old who, through a series of unfortunate events, ended up in the ranks of the pigmask army. Now, as much as I'd love to go into detail about his backstory, I wanna save most of it for asks. I guess the most basic gist is that he was taken from our time, currently in the 2010's but may change later, from a very young age, and made to be a pigmask. Someone call the Geneva Convention. He goes on to be promoted to captain (seen below). But after yet another series of unfortunate events, he ends up being chimera-ified and he gets promoted to commander, but not of the pigmasks (technically). We'll get there.

Art also by @pinkalliums!! Seriously, go check them out! >:)

Few things to keep in mind for this blog:

1. I don't have many artistic abilities, unfortunately, so this will be a text only blog. Some friends have kindly made a few pieces for Arild, and I will show them off, but for the most part, there won't be much in the way of visuals, unfortunately.

2. Quite a lot of the stuff here is going to involve my own headcanons for the Mother series, especially post-game Mother 3. For example, in my headcanon, Claus survives and becomes the leader of the army, rebranding it in the name of peace, with Arild being the new commander. Everyone has their own unique headcanons for the series, and I don't wanna step on that or nothin. So, for the sake of it, you can just consider this an AU instead :)

3. There will be mention of a couple real life places that will have Mother-ified names. With any mention of Norway, the name will changed to Fjordland, on account of its many... fjords (I might actually change this cuz it's kinda dumb lmao). Canada is also an important place within the story, and that I have decided to call Mapleland. Creative, I know.

4. Feel free to ask whatever! Silly questions are easy to answer and will usually be answered quickest! Lore relevant questions are a little trickier and may take me just a bit longer to respond to, but I will be happy to get to them!! Also, RP is okay with me, if you want to!!

5. Please don't be weird or anything. For instance being a former pigmask, Arild is a plus-sized character, so a comment about his weight would not be great. More importantly, NO NSFW. This character is a minor, and that stuff is not okay to ask. I highly doubt it'll be an issue, but it's good to mention just in case

6. I do not speak Norwegian, but I want to sprinkle it in a little bit, I have only on option. Google Translate. I know, I know... it's not the best, but I will try my best to avoid mistranslations or misuse of phrases. I wouldn't want to be the new version of that one post about the Norwegian Butter Crisis, haha.

If you're still here, thank you for reading until the end!! As said, I've never done something like this before, so this intro is probably super chaotic in comparison to other blogs, haha. I am really excited to get started here! I've always wanted to do an ask blog, and I really needed an excuse to flesh out my OC, so I'd say this is perfect! I'd like to give thanks to all the friends, and my bf, who helped me out on this!! Thank you to Moth for setting this event up! Thank you to Hal and a few others for the art! And also thank you so much to my friend Red who helped me create this character in the first place! He didn't tell me what his tumblr was, but he is @/Doc_Glowstick on Twitter!! Alright, I think I've rambled enough now. I'll probably go through this and change it later, but for now, let the blog begin!!!

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

*face smacks into the windows, cracks appear in the glass*

can I please hear about ‘jamie’s autism crisis’ and/or ‘through the desert repenting’?

💚🌹💚🌹💚

I answered one for Jamie's Autism Crisis here, so this one's for Through the Desert Repenting! The premise is that Sam decides to be more proactive about his social advocacy post-Dubai Air and, in campaigning to get the charity gala changed to something less creepy, sends Jamie into a bit of a spiral by talking to everyone about consent and bodily autonomy because he not only hasn't processed the Amsterdam of it all, but is also having some weird feelings about his time on Lust Conquers All. It features Sam and Jamie slow-burn friendship, plus Jan Maas as Sam's first recruit to his anti-charity gala efforts.

I have a bit of it written (because I intended to work on TtDR and Wrong Answers Only concurrently, but it turns out I'm really bad at working on more than one fic at a time), so here's a snippet:

He’d gone out with the lads, three nights ago, shirt shimmery blue and unbuttoned nearly to the navel to distract from the way he kept his arms covered past the wrists even in the muggy summer heat. Not like it mattered much anyway; he’d posted up at the bar inching his way through his vanilla vodka while his teammates danced and drank and enjoyed themselves the way Jamie couldn’t seem to fucking manage, these days. But he was still young, and fit, and a famous footballer, and so it didn’t take long for a woman to drop into the seat beside him, maybe a decade his senior with sleek dark hair pulled back in a bun and deep red lipstick and a black blazer open over a black shirt, formal like she’d come directly from work. She held out her hand to shake and said, “Jamie, my name is Molly.” Business-like, not pretending she didn’t know who he was like people sometimes did. “Hey,” he said. Considered telling her to piss off but company might be nice, actually, if only to keep him from spending another night in the empty cavern of his house. Maybe they could go to hers. Stay the night, shower together in the morning. If dad asked where he’d been... well, dad liked when he did shit like that. Proved he was a man. She leaned forward on her elbows. Smiled up at him like they were sharing some great secret. She said, “Jamie, I’m a producer on Lust Conquers All.”

[piplicious]

Dip Week Day 3!!!

Hello I wrote a little something based on a conversation I had with @/pipcorn. But I have like no experience as a writer!!! So you have to be nice to me. + theres a drawing inside :3

Word count: 1366 words

Ship: Damien x Pip

Warnings: none whatsoever

Summary: it's Damien's Birthday and everything is on fire.

"By the power of all unholy and evil I command --all the mortals come to my birthday party!!!"

Despite the very clear and easy to understand demand of his highness son of Satan, no one was there. Creatures of darkness were present, of course, but that was about it. The little black demon beings were all sat at a special table, reserved specifically for them, with all the appropriate evil meals served and ready. But what about Damien's other friends (or so he'd like to think of them)? Did he not manage to make everyone in class like him by being a little asshole?

Unfortunately, Hell was going through a bit of a financial crisis, and some unplanned budget cuts had to be made. Instead of a big fancy banquet Damien had to make do with a regular size birthday party. Well, it was a bit below regular, you can't underestimate the impact inflation and excessive risk taking by systemically important financial institutions have on otherworldly dimentions. Obviously.

As a result, materialistic humans didn't really feel like attending such an underwhelming event.

"AAARGH"

The AAARGH didn't help. So strange! At least one boy should've come. One very specific little lad! And a very important one, too, but shush about that.

And yet no one was there. The party had started whole 5 minutes ago after all! Could it be… that maybe the invintations got lost? Well, no, because then Pip surely would've come. Damien made sure to personally disturb the signal in the 500 meters radius area by shooting his rubber duck-like voice all the way to Pip over the phone exactly 5 times. One time -- a month before the birthday, so that the blond has enough time to prepare the presents. Then a week before the celebration -- enough time for Pip to make sure to cancel all the plans for the special day. Then one day before the birthday - in the morning and in the evening. And don't forget the mandatory 5 AM call.

And so, utterly dissapointed, the grumpy lump of rage continued pouting even harder than usual. I'd like to say that his hope for humanity was completely gone by that time (6 minutes past the official beginning of the party), but let's be honest, it's South Park, why would it ever be there in the first place.

"Happy Birthday, son. Today is a beautiful day and you're only 9 years away from the day I tell you the truth about how you were made."

"Dad. WHE--??"

"I know, I know what you want to say, I see that half of the room is on fire already. But first I have a very important gift for you."

"DAAAAAA--"

…!

And there, a sudden strike of silence hit the room. Damien's instincts freezed and crashed! The "gift" that loomed out of the hallway made him unsure whether to hiss or wag his tail. Or both?

"G-good morning, Damien! I'm here to wish you a very happy birthday and hopefully entertain you for the duration of my stay here…! Hope you didn't… miss me?"

The little british boy that just came in already managed to pick up that something about Damien's reaction was off, as the later made incomprehensible noises and it was hard to read what exactly he was feeling at the moment. It would seem illogical, as Pip was the exact person lacking at the event, and yet the way he appeared rubbed the demon in a wrong way.

"Are you… mad at me? Ohh… I see… No one has come to your party? No worries!!! I understand how you feel, sogga, no one attends my celebratio--"

"Why are you wearing that!!!"

"Oh it's a clown outfit, your father asked me to--"

"DAD?????"

And so Satan had to step into the conversation between the fourthgraders. What an interesting sentence out of context!

"You see, due to the financial situation we couldn't afford a professional entertainer, and dead soul tortures are already reserved for when you get good grades, so I figured getting your buddy to pretend to be a clown for your birthday would be good enough."

"I DON'T WANT HIM TO BE A CLOWN!"

"But why?"

Giving absolutely no answer, the hissy boy left the room and it almost seemed like he had a little tear in his eye. And so, Pip, Satan, and a hoard of unholy creatures whatever they are, were left astounded in a room with more fire in it than food or tables.

What a confusing situation! But of course giving up would mean missing the chance to save your lo-- your friend's important day, right? That's not a very caring behavior. Pip would not want to leave Damien behind, no. It takes some thick gloves and a lot of bravery to deal with wild kittens like that. And a heart big enough to give them all the space they need to not feel intimidated anymore.

"There, there."

Pip sat near the curled up demon, petting his back and waiting for him to cool down and relax his eyebrows at least a bit. And boy did he take his sweet time cooling down, this is not your average tray of freshly baked brownies.

"I-I don't want to rush you or anything, but could I perhaps get a hint about why you're mad at me?"

Nope. Not happening.

"It appears I have to try guessing myself… Do you want me to leave?"

Damien shook his head. Somehow everything became even more confusing.

"Are you… afraid of clowns?"

Not that either.

"I don't know what else it could be then…"

"…I wanted you to come because you want to. Not because you have to."

The boy who for some reason had to remind Pip about his birthday 5 times looked away in embarassment. Could it be that there was actually some kind of thought process happening behind those eyes? It seemed that this time his friends' intentions actually mattered to him and it wasn't just about seeming cool in front of the elite of the class. Pip was nice sincerely and it made a big difference! If he came willingly it would be clear what he came for. Damien's smile or something gay like that.

"…How much did he pay you?"

"For what?"

"For you to come."

"Oh good golly i'm going to get paid?"

The utter confusion in blonde's eyes eventually cleared up all the doubts in Damien's mind.

"No."

"Oh alrighties."

"I think I understand. Only a brit would willingly attend a party where the only food being served is unholy goop and satanic porridge."

"It's not that, Damien, I just--"

Pip started fidgeting awkwardly with the fabric of his clothes like a shy anime girl. Unusual, since most of the time when he liked someone it was extremely visible to everyone around. Well, it was, it very much was visible this time either but somehow not to Damien.

"You see, back when I was born as a little baby in a small town of--"

"Shorter."

"I have feelings for you."

"Oh. Wait what. Wait. That's gay."

"Indeed it is, Damien. I understand if you want me to leave even harder than before now, I--"

Instead of jokingly utilizing the diverse pallete of homophobic slurs in English language the demon boy's eyes immediately brightened up. He didn't exactly know why yet, but it actually… cheered him up? His buddy was actually more than just a buddy! They could spend so much time together like those two yaois from their class! Now the hard part is actually somehow returning feelings and admitting the same thing. Oh Go-- Oh man it sure is more embarassing than he thought… But it must be oh so worth it!!!

The poor British thing just sat there waiting for any even remotely coherent answer. His anxiety was only soothed by the fact that the fire in the house began slowly extinguishing, which probably meant that Damien wasn't angry with him. Fortunately he didn't need to wait too long.

"You're my boyfriend now."

"Okay."

There. The hardest part is now behind, time to jump straight to the part that has handholding and fun dates in it.

***

[ineffabildaddy]

6, 8, and 21 for the soft asks <3

omg hiii hehehe

6. say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

oh god okay, physical: my tattoos are sick, my beard's coming along nicely, and ermmm i'm stacked in the back lmfao

non-physical: i try to be a friendly person, i'm very organised and clean at work which i'm proud of, anddd i'd like to think i know a good amount about music

8. tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good

this bit's gna be long so i'll put it under the cut dlfjlkdg

@raining-stars-somewhere-else he's an inactive king atm but he's my bestie and i love him<3 so so hilarious and observant and talented and kind. he's my dude and he means a lot to me go away

@sad-chaos-goblin i feel like i can be totally insane around you and you'll get on my wavelength immediately, it's amazing dlkkkljgfjkld. also i feel really lucky to be friends with someone so well-rounded and driven and fun, not to mention compassionate<3 i'm really really lucky to have met you and i hope we get to do irl adventures in the nearish future!!! until then we're great friends from afar!!!

@omens-for-ophelia we're just perfectly matched for our headcanons and kinks and shit and i absolutely love it. u get me, i get u, we get each other on this front and on many others!!! ur an extremely nurturing person too. i also love having u around bc ur full of fun facts and passion and energy, and of course ur art is absolutely incredible, i'm scratching at the walls just thinking about it dklkjldfgjkl. can't wait to create more absolutely feral works of crowley and aziraphale [redacted] in various ways hahahhkshjdf. and also hopefully have some london hangouts soon<3

@queer-reader-07 of course i've gotta mention ya because you're one of my fave blogs! i feel so warm and welcome reading all your posts and tags because you're a very lovely individual, and you've also got so many valuable things to say and i really look forward to seeing your takes on everything<3 also as i said before ur a very funny person and i enjoy that heh. i always get so excited when u pop up in my notifs i'm like little old me????

@foolishlovers bestie your writing makes me so happy but chatting and things makes me even happier<3 you're a really enthusiastic friend to have and you've got so many wonderful qualities that i just wanna share the love as much as possible hehe. i'm very glad we're doing shhh it's a secret together and that we've become close in general uwu

@crowleyslvt ur a little lad who's always got something hilarious and insightful to say about literally anything i come to u with, whether it's fkn silly memes or an existential crisis lol. you have such a unique way of looking at the world and i really enjoy it. also having a giggle with u is always top tier and on top of that ur a very supportive king<3 and of course u writing's delish at all times in any context

@voluptatiscausa i can literally tell you my most redacted thoughts and you'll be like yeah this is just another day at the office dkffjddgl. you're a silly and goofy guy (gn) who's simultaneously very easy to open up to which is always a comfort<3 the fact that we both like mitchell and webb makes us collectively Not Like Other Girls and we need to capitalise on that more tbh. also i greatly enjoy ur writing ofc

@bowtiepastabitch you're jokes. also we're very different and yet somehow the same brand of fucked up which i love<3 the lore could not be more disparate but the vibes could not be more immaculate. pls continue to be my friend smh

some more legends i love @crowleyholmes @fearandhatred @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @celestialcrowley @sabotage-on-mercury @quoththemaiden @ineffable-rohese @crawley-fell

21. if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

probably this - one day you're going to start sticking up for yourself, i promise<3

[cwarscars]

I'm tossing three at you-

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?

😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?

⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse? 

Mun talks about the Muse

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?

i love writing a character so different than myself - like, not to be arrogant but i don't really see myself as a very nasty person (lol). i really am super chill, maybe dangerously laid-back and side by side with heidegger, we don't have much in common ( maybe our confidence at times c.c ). I love getting to write this character who is so much more than me - like, he's an older man who has experienced wars, battle, the world. he's powerful, in charge. he's like one of the TOP dogs. i find that so fascinating to write.

not just the social / status side of his character though but also his personality. i have a really good time looking at him and breaking him down. why does he do that? why does he do this?

i know a lot of people look at heidegger and just see an evil guy. they see a moustache twirling villain who isn't worth even bothering to look into. i lowkey see it as a challenge. like, as far as i'm concerned - if people are willing to see sephiroth as so much, they should be willing to pay mind to the other villains, too. a lot of the time, people don't because they aren't 'hot'. but i genuinly enjoy fleshing him out for me / my writing partners. everything i get right or that is like increased upon by square is a blessing and it always warms my heart.

it's also a lot of fun writing a villain. sometimes, i have situations where i am desperate to make heidegger do the good thing. but he wont and i know he wont. so when i write it, i have to challenge myself to make him do the bad thing. i have to find his reasons, his justification. i cant just half ass and either discharacterise him by saying 'aw no he does the super sweet thing' or be lazy and say 'hes just a bad lad lol', i have to actually work out WHY he's doing the shitty thing. i just love having that complexity when writing. it can be very tiring but it feels super rewarding.

😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?

hmmmm, i don't think so. i know some people may look at my heidegger and believe it's solely based off of the remake but he isn't! i tie elements from before crisis and the original in there too! i suppose you could say i ignore his design in the original - i don't see him being so portly, personally. but i do subscribe to the idea that heidegger would have a bit of a tummy; i see his build as being the typical former athlete who no longer works out as much kinda body, y'know?

but personality wise, i like to think i retain as much from his character as i can. all of the ugly included! his scenes in before crisis where he fucks up the turks / army, i explain as being due to an alcohol addiction / incompetence caused by this. and for the most part, remake has followed how he is in the original fairly closely.

a couple of things i carry from the original that haven't been shown / explored in the remake are

the idea that heidegger is beyond stressed due to having take over multiple departments within shinra ala soldier, turks, science department. this is talked about in the og, but not in remake. though i suspect part 3 may touch on it when hojo goes fully rogue. i love the idea of the stress slowly killing him lol

in the original, when the group go to the northern crater - heid's the only one who doesn't leave the highwind. i made a whole-ass story line about how he's lowkey afraid of the northern crater, it's like his biggest fear haha.

generally, although people may see me shitpost A LOT - i like to keep the character as close to canon as i possibly can.

one thing i do want to note on here is sexuality - as i know people would debate me on my choice to make him bisexual. i've always said i dont really write him as openly bisexual, he just kinda is. powerwash sim, arguably, made a point when he randomly comments on sephiroth being good looking. personally, i do think anyone can call someone good looking without it meaning a thing but yo, i'm using it as a point in my reasoning for his sexuality. :D his sexuality though ultimately stemmed from the idea that a man that looks like that has GOT to be hitting up the gay leather scene at least once in a while

⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse?

*fear and hunger empty scroll* -

o lord give young heid

i have been wanting a young heidegger thread for 84 yrs now. i have SO much of his backstory fleshed out and i made sure (somewhat) it all ties in the ffvii timeline / world. i just want to do anything from heidegger in his mid 40s below. i've written some awesome stuff with people before set with heid in his 40s and would love to explore that and below.

thing is, i write him as being similar but so different back then - he's got the same edge though slightly duller. honestly, he's just a little nicer.

otherwise, i would be so incredibly gangster for a hardcore bdsm smut thread. no cap - it's something i've always wanted to explore but am EXTREMELLLYYYY like picky about how to go about it. not everybody has the same limits in terms of writing, triggers etc and i'd HATE myself if i crossed a boundary with someone so i'd have to ensure the other person was comfortable / everything was chill / what limits heid could push etc. but i'd find something like that fascinating to write!

[biblioflyer]

Burnham is not "always right": The Vulcan Hello (Rewatch)

Just a snap reaction. I'm struck by the sense that yes, in some sense, this first episode is headed to deconstruction. Starfleet is definitely depicted as extremely decent. To the point where Burnham and Georgiou are on a mission to discreetly dig a well that is beyond the capabilities of the local species. Its very much a setup for an innocence lost, but ultimately regained - at least in part story.

More to the point, and this is going out on a limb here, without having rewatched the next episode, my gut is telling me I've been right for a long time. Namely that this is an example of a situation where Burnham was objectively wrong and narratively wrong. Which also undermines one of the most prolific critiques of the series.

Had she backed Saru and persuaded Georgiou to withdraw the Shenzou there is a good chance they lose track of the coffin ship if it decides to cloak again which is a very serious risk, but - and Burnham doesn't know this yet - it will probably undermine T'Kuvma. Had T'Kuvma lit the beacon and the Klingon armada met empty space, there's a strong possibility that the other House Leaders grouse about him screwing around with ancient artifacts, if not outright blaspheming to try and assert moral authority over the other Houses. Maybe he gets a chance to bribe them with his cloaking technology and maybe he doesn't, but the way I remember it, its the fleet battle and his subsequent martyrdom that unites the Klingons.

On the other hand, if Burnham got her way, there's two scenarios. One is that she gets the shot off before Voq departs to light the beacon. The chronology is a bit ambiguous but I don't even think T'Kuvma decloaks until Voq is away. But lets say that T'Kuvma decloaks because he needs to for Voq to depart or as a distraction to buy Voq time. So IF Shenzou's sucker punch works, the bridge neck is hit, the ship is crippled or destroyed and the beacon isn't lit, then its all sunshine and roses. Mission accomplished.

Maybe.

I still think there's a good chance that maybe someone comes along later, discovers that T'Kuvma got himself killed messing with the Federation, and it provokes a Klingon blood debt or something something honor. We're led to believe T'Kuvma is a savvy operator in politics and religion. We have no earthly idea why he's lighting the beacon now as opposed to years ago (maybe it was lost, due to the whole scattering field thing) but perhaps it has to do with internal Klingon dynamics. Maybe he's spotted a Gordian Knot in Klingon society and has decided never to let a good crisis go to waste, so he's going to start a war with the Federation because his instincts tell him that if he plays his cards right, this is a doable thing.

The second scenario is that Shenzou gets her sucker punch in only after Voq lights the beacon or Voq is able to light the beacon after T'Kuvma gets himself blown up. Maybe the other Houses arrive and decide T'Kuvma was a mad lad and he got what he had coming to him. On the other hand - and maybe something will come to me a few episodes later - I'm not aware of anything at this juncture that alters the fundamentals of T'Kuvma being martyred. I'm not at all sure why it matters if it was from giving Shenzou taking him out or from a Starfleet boarding team offing him in a rescue attempt that turns into an accidental assassination. Clearly while T'Kuvma is some sort of outsider type, his death at the hands of the Federation is hugely significant - if not to the House Leaders, then to their constituents who must have a fair number of devotees and sympathizers in their ranks.

Given that by the end of the season, Burnham will have disavowed preemptive violence and doubled down on Starfleet's original mission and ethos, I feel very confident in saying Episode One Burnham is wrong and she's not just wrong from a Watsonian standpoint, we are supposed to understand from the narrative that she's wrong. She will spend the entire season and maybe the next three seasons even trying to live down this mistake because I think its rather critical to understanding the character and her trajectory that had she taken Saru's side, Shenzou and her crewmates may have lived and a war might have been avoided.

That it might take three years and saving the Federation three times and the galaxy twice to get herself to a place where she really thinks she deserves to be in Starfleet, let alone as a Captain, really puts things into context. A context that the comment sections of the usual places are content to ignore because they are stuck on the idea that Burnham is right because of narrative fiat.

Also Sarek is a terrible, terrible father and this is one retcon that I think doesn't work. Maybe it will improve. Spock and Sarek had their differences yes, but prior to Discovery, I think it would be fair to read it that they were deeply principled individuals that clashed at the level of application of those principles. Like a PHD whose profoundly gifted child decides to join the military rather than joining a think tank to draft policy. This version of Sarek and his obsession with making a human into a Vulcan is difficult to watch and kind of less interesting, personally.

On the subject of retcons, if the idea is that an aggressive response to T’Kuvma’s ship prowling inside the extreme edge of Federation space and potentially menacing colonists is supposed to be objectively correct or at least more narratively ambiguous, this is where the TOS setting conceits actually would work way better. Namely that Starfleet is spread “age of sail” thin and comms with the nearest higher authority take hours or longer.

This is actually really reminiscent of the scenario in Master and Commander which I rewatched over the weekend with Shenzou as HMS Surprise and T’Kuvma’s ship as the French heavy frigate Acheron. What compels “Lucky Jack” to hunt a ship that’s faster, more resilient, outguns, and out ranges Surprise is that Surprise really is the only one who can conceivably run down Acheron before she takes more British merchants. Even though it’s suicidal, there’s no backup coming it’s just Surprise trying to pull off a desperate win or choosing life but condemning every civilian in Acheron’s path.

Shenzou being in real time contact with Starfleet and half a Wolf 359’s worth of ships being two hours away makes the idea of a preemptive strike against a game changing major threat noble, assuming it doesn’t start a war or war is inevitable unless this incursion is decisively defeated before it can get going, but ultimately undermines the whole idea that Shenzou must be decisive in order not to show weakness. Taking a big risk and staying to monitor this new cloaking dreadnought or regrouping with the fleet to rapidly deploy to at risk colonies are both very sensible with the information Georgiou has. For the conventional Starfleet thinker, Burnham’s historical analogy doesn’t seem to map to a Federation that has spent the last century having the luxury of trying to unravel the cultural ambiguities that can lead to conflict because apparently it can whistle up a task force pretty darn fast.

The weird bullying of Saru on the bridge also doesn't sit well with me. If he's that timid, how did he advance in Starfleet? He must be extremely competent and deserve his position, so why set everyone up to act like he's a coward? I really think they would have done him more justice by making him a stronger and more articulate advocate for deescalation. If the narrative needs to prove him wrong, then the narrative proves him wrong, but at least give him a good argument. I suppose he got stuck being the weenie because Georgiou needed to be the cooler head mediating between him and Burnham, but I think it could have been handled better.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights, Part 2.1

Continuation of my Inkling's Challenge story, started >>here. Next part >>here. Not sure if I'm supposed to tag @inklings-challenge anymore since times have moved on, but will do so just to be on the safe (the tag may be ignored if so desired). Last time on Terrarium Lights: The ghost disappeared after getting an existential crisis when he realized he didn't know his own name, to everyone's surprise.

"I'm sorry."

Gail nearly jumped out of her skin, scattering her basket of freshly cleaned rocks across the dining room table. She wheeled around toward the kitchen, which had been empty a few moments earlier, to see the lad from before standing sheepishly in the middle of it.

She released her apron and took a deep breath.

"Oh?" She replied—with only a slight quiver in her voice—and allowed him to insert his own explanation.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, unless it was scaring the living daylights out of her. It was, however, reassuring to see him again and to know she wouldn’t be stuck for the rest of her days with the mystery of what on God’s green Earth had happened.

"Well, I feel like I may have overreacted." He was looking at the floor, so she couldn't see the state of his eyes.

"About your memories?" She asked, and then mentally smacked her palm against her forehead. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to bring up the incident that had so upset him right the second he came back—in her defense, her heartbeat was still rather drowning out thought.

"Yeah."

"I see." Gail turned back to the table and started picking up the rocks—mostly shale and creek pebbles—from where they'd been flung, gathering her wits with them.

It had been several days since the ghost had come and gone.

At first she toyed with the idea that her mind was going on ahead of her to heaven. They did say solitude did odd things to mind, but while she didn't have concrete proof that the lad had been there, in the end she had decided to regard it as fact until proven otherwise. There were her sodden clothes and her pail of moss, confirming that she'd gone out in the rain at the very least.

After she'd settled that, she started to go over the interaction in her mind.

She had had no idea if he'd come back or not. Her gut reaction was that he would, someday. The whole venture was rather too strange and unfinished—he was clearly haunted by something, still. Whether or not she would be there to see it, she did not know.

Eventually, she decided that if he did return to her, she should handle him with more care and tact, and make him feel more generally comfortable before prodding at him again. That seemed like the best way to figure out what was going on, at least. From there—well, she didn't know. But one so rarely did know what one was doing, so that wasn't a great matter in the long run. Besides, if this was the Lord’s doing, he’d hardly abandon her here. Wasn’t His style.

And here the lad was, once again standing in her kitchen, though this time much shyer and more unsure, and she’d already prodded him more than she meant.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," she replied, rubbing her thumb across a smooth piece of shale. "Though I suppose I should apologize, myself, for startling you."

"Well, technically I think that was the kettle," he said with a nervous chuckle.

She snorted. "True. Dreadful loud that kettle is."

As she swept the last bits of rocks towards her, she heard him shuffling his feet. It was an odd sound. Not quite all there. "It… it doesn't seem to be raining anymore."

"Nice and sunny out, indeed." She kept an ear on him, still managing her rocks.

"Um. Thank you for letting me borrow your roof."

The rocks clattered back into the basket. "You're welcome to it as long as you might need."

"…Even if it's not raining anymore?"

She turned back round to face him and smiled. His eyes were a satisfying shade of brown. "Even then."

He beamed back.

Gail walked over to a makeshift desk to the side of the room and started sorting the rocks into their proper containers. Hesitantly, the lad hovered into the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room space.

“I… I still don’t really remember anything,” he said. “I think I have amnesia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Gail gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to help with that?” She gestured for him to come closer.

“Well, I don’t know.” Like a puppy prepared to be yelled at, he edged further into the house. “In all honesty, the fact that I couldn’t remember anything terrified me. Still does, kind of, but it’s not as shocking now, I suppose. I don’t know why I didn’t realize. I mean, how do you forget your entire life but just not think about it? Doesn’t make sense.” He trailed off with an attempted chuckle.

“Maybe it was something that happened recently?”

He squinted at what she was doing, seemingly half-intrigued about her activity, half-absorbed in his own nervous narrative. “I… I don’t think so. Or maybe the amnesia was recent? I don’t know. I kind of… remembered bits? But it’s very fuzzy, like it might have happened in some odd kind of dream, a long time ago. Or maybe not that long ago. Dreams can be weird. But so can memories. Like when something happens yesterday but it feels like it’s always been your past, that kind of thing. Or at least that’s what last time I was here felt like, I think, but that could just be because that’s all I can remember right now. But I don’t even know how long ago it was that I was here. I get the impression that memories are tricky.”

“True, that,” Gail chuckled. “You said you remembered something, though?” She rubbed her thumb over the ridges of a large creek pebble appreciatively, then dropped it into its jar with a satisfying clink.

“What are you doing?” He asked, tilting his head, curiosity temporarily overshadowing his dilemma.

“Oh, me? Sorting rocks.”

“Why?”

“If I don’t, they’ll just be a mess.” She waved her hand over the assortment. “This way it’s easier to get at the ones I need.” She wasn’t sure if he was dodging the question again or just distracted.

“O-oh.”

She chuckled again. “For terrariums, that is. I’m not just mad about rocks, though I do like them.”

“Terrariums?”

“It’s a hobby of me and my husband’s. While he’s away, I gather materials—and sometimes do a few myself—and then when he’s back, we work on one together.” She was sorting them roughly by size and color. Absently she wondered if she’d need to take a trip to the shore sometime soon to stock back up on driftwood.

“Could I… maybe… see one?” He had his cautious puppy act on again.

Resisting the urge to kid him a bit for his skittishness, she nodded and went to the living room (really only a bulge on the side of the dining room, but still rather nice for sitting), and picked up one of the first ones she and Michael done together, in the bottom of a large, broken canning jar that had once been the size of a small bucket.

“Here,” she said, and held it towards him. “The edges aren’t sharp anymore. We sanded what we could and covered the rest with a sealant.”

It was a simple terrarium, really. Not much more than moss arranged around a large lump of red flint they’d found when wandering along the creek, with a few small little plants stuck in. And the container wasn’t the prettiest, with the sealant smeared across most of the edges around the opening. Still, it was a good memory, so she liked to keep it watered and tended, and even though she didn’t know what kind of moss they’d gathered, it was one of her favorites—it flowered in the summer and smelled lovely.

"Can I touch it?" He asked. When she nodded, he slowly reached out and put his hand in the container, running his fingers along the rock and pressing their tips gently against the moss. "It's so strangely soft and not soft." He looked up and smiled and his eyes were very brown. "It feels nice. Almost scratchy, but comfortable. I like its texture."

"Isn't it just lovely?" Gail agreed. "Moss is one of those things that isn't hard to find, but is still so satisfying every time you do. I think it's one of the marks that God made this world with love."

The lad nodded absently. He was frowning slightly, and for a moment didn't seem quite all there, his edges ever so slightly blurring.

"I think I remember something about moss," he said. "I'm not sure. But it wasn't very green, and there were whole plains of it. Underground, I think. And blue. I think we might have been safe there, but I don't know." He looked back up at her. "Does any of that sound… familiar? Since you know about moss."

The lad looked so hopeful, Gail wished she could say yes. "Well,” she replied, pursing her lips as if in deep thought, “we don't have many caves around these parts. Soil's not built for it. And I don’t profess to know much about the subject one way or the other, but I can't say as I'm familiar with blue moss."

"Oh." Feeling along the edges of where the rock and moss met, he pressed his hand down again, softly. Gail noticed that it did not leave much of an impression, if any. "Maybe it was just the way it looked? Maybe it wasn't blue." He withdrew his hand. "But if there are no caves around here… I don't know. It was certainly underground." He frowned. "Well, I'm pretty sure. I… I guess I can't say for certain, can I? Since I don't know."

Gail resisted the urge to set her terrarium down and pat his back or try to hug him. The poor lad looked frightfully lost. "Perhaps you were a traveler in your time, before coming here. I will admit, I don't know much about what lies beyond my little corner of the world, so who's to say caverns of blue moss might'nt be out there, somewhere?"

Even as she said the words, they felt unlikely. Maybe because she didn't quite believe them herself—but it was true, at least, that she didn't know much about the world beyond Florida, or even beyond this northern slice of it. She could have hope in her own ignorance, for the lad's sake. Perhaps her Michael might know, or she could write to her son up in the Northern colonies. They were both much more widely traveled.

"As your memories come back, mayhaps you might learn to know more about it."

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket, eyes still on the ground. "I hope so. It's… disconcerting, to know so little about what you can trust from your own head."

"We'll figure it out," Gail said, wondering if there was any way to physically console someone who couldn't be touched.

"I… I also really don't mean to drag you into this," he said. "We're both just strangers to each other. I wouldn't want to presume too much on your hospitality."

Gail clucked her tongue at him as she put the terrarium on the table, where he could still find it if he wanted. "Trust me, young man, this would be the best use of my time. I couldn't in good conscience just turn you out, anyway, and well, what can I say? I'm a meddlesome old lady. I like fixing other peoples' problems, if I can."

"Oh." He picked at the edge of his waistcoat. "That's… that's really kind of you. I… I'm not sure what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything, if you'd rather not. You're welcome to just be here for a bit, if you'd like."

"I… I think I'd like that." He looked up at her again. "I wouldn't be a bother if I just stood by and watched you work?"

"No bother at all." Gail waved a dismissive hand. "I guarantee you'll be a lot easier to work around than toddlers, though admittedly it has been… a few years, since I've had to do that. I'll just be working on a new terrarium, anyway, for old Mrs. Oberson. She's been quite sickly for a while now, and having living things about you really brightens a room up."

He followed her back to the desk, where she pulled out a largeish jar and set it up, hunting down the different components she needed from the desk, and adjusting her glasses to a higher zoom setting to better view the details. The plan for this terrarium lay on a card pinned to the desk, half-recipe, half-sketch. Michael had helped her come up with it before he left, and now was as good a time as any to get it going. She’d need more time, too, since her hands weren’t as steady as they used to be.

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[prussianmemes]

4, 8, 16 brother

ok brother... ht ht .....

4. do you like your name?  is there another name you think would fit you better?

i'm quite alright with my first name - robert - and i don't feel that strongly about it. but when connected with my last name, both of which are really only the result of US naturalization my father had - i don't know how to feel about it.

it is quite funny on the one hand where the first assumption people make with my name here is that i might be german. people told me i look german, mostly positively or sometimes jokingly in a less flattering way that i think i've told you before. it's all a bit funny though, considering that in contrast to probably the average czech, my familly really had no relation to germans whatsoever. on both sides of my family we're just deep rural central bohemians, maybe with a dash of rusyn from a two generation stint in transcarpathia.

anyways, i don't think any other name would really fit me better. like having prussianmemes as my url, or sp00n.exe as my online handle - when everyone knows you by this name and has always referred to you as such - it's just - well - yours.

8. what musical artists have you most felt connected to over your lifetime?

eduard artemyev i'd say has definitely been the most fundamental to my interest with synth and ambient music, and really the beginnings of my foray into eastern culture starting when i was a teenager.

to be boringly basic i've really quite liked paul mcartney. i know it's normo sapien. very normgroidy. i don't care though. i like his texts. they're real af with it. who cares if it's basic. he's trve af with it.... also very important to me in the lowest periods of my life.

ryuichi sakamoto also gets a shoutout for his incredible work. his work on the last emperor. rain. ooough. that's a kino track. for czech artists i've always had a love affair with ivan mladek and petr novak. simple pepik music, ever since i was a wee lad.

16. if you’d grown up in a different environment, do you think you’d have turned out the same?

there are really many other perfectly plausible scenarios as to what i could have ended up as, depending on where my father ended up from that refugee camp.

i could have been an aussie. this would have been awesome but also suicidal having to live in the middle of nowhere and also having travel to europe be astronomically expensive.

i could have been a saffie. i don't think i would have ever grown out of my teenage based memelord trad right phase and i think i actually would have become even more insufferable (as most saffies and boers are) but it's hard to say, as that would have been such a radically different environment to grow up in all of my formative experiences would in every aspect be so different.

i could have been swiss. i could have even just been a homegrown czech.

i used to struggle alot with the crisis of identity on constantly shuttling between czechia and the states, but in all honesty now i think i'm really glad i ended up the way i did. being a new england grown seppo-pepik who has had the opportunity to really live and experience two very different worlds, particularly during the formative years of one's life, i think really does impart a sort of world view on me that i don't think i would have ever gotten growing up anywhere else.

thanks van bro...... hugs and kisses

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Seven

Pairings; LADS OT4 X reader

Word Count; 2,876

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; you have a slight existential crisis, a kiss (but it doesn't get too intense unfortunately), another Xavier-centric chapter with a small cliffhanger, also a reminder that 💛 is Xavier! Also, I accidentally posted this so I guess y'all are getting this chapter early 🤷🏻‍♀️

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Masterlist

I would also like to mention, once more, that the reader isn't aware of anything relating to Sylus. Just his looks, the appearance of his evol, and all of that. Think of her as all of us during Sylus's trailer release! Even though she doesn't know anything, the story will go as it does in the original story. I'm definitely not creative enough to change any of that, but there will be major differences after we finish the final chapter (in-game, chapter eight)!

You have one more day of freedom before you enter the Nest as bait. How will you spend it?

You woke up a bit later than usual, wanting to spend as much time with Estelle in bed as possible before you had to leave her for an unspecified amount of time. You hope she remembers you. After you make yourself something to eat and give Estelle her food, you check up on your flowers. The bluish pink flowers sat in a vase you had made at a pottery class with Zayne. Your thumbprints in the shape of a heart and the vase was glazed in the colour arctic blue, which was a beautiful light blue. The vase was sitting next to the fox Xavier got you and the painting Rafayel made for you.

You decide to lounge around the apartment today, unwilling to go outside and do anything since you knew today would be your last day of freedom. You were honestly worried, after tomorrow you were in the dark on what comes next. Your gaze flitting across the notes you made of the past and near future, hoping to come up with a nice game plan for your next decisions. You could tell the other guys you know about your past lives, but if you don't know everything then what's the point? You knew Rafayel would throw a fit if you didn't remember everything. Zayne doesn't really remember or, at least, you're not sure. Most of Zayne's past life you're in the dark about since you never got his cards. For Rafayel, you know two specific instances of past lives but the bigger one where he was the god of the sea? You only know part of it. You never got those cards either. With Xavier, you know of both lives- one more so than the other. You know he's Lumiere, the man who saved the main character as a child and protected Linkon during the Chronorift Catastrophe..you also know he's quite jealous of himself. Any time Lumiere is mentioned, he gets jealous.

But Sylus? Nope, you know nothing. Besides his looks, that he's the leader of Onychinus, and what his evol looks like. That's all you know. And you think you remember a crow, but you could be mistaken because of meeting Mephi at the animal shelter.

You know you need the aether core at the auction, but you don't recall why. Maybe to help your heart? You don't dare ask because it would look weird if you were intent on finding something, but forgot why you needed it. And after that? You assume winning Sylus’ heart like you have with the others. So he can't be a real bad guy if he's a love interest. You've read theories that the Ever corporation, which is the biggest company in the world- branching from biotech to aerospace to evol energy and even international trade- might be evil or working with Onychinus, but that's the only lead you have. You'll just have to figure it out as you go along.

You put on the TV and laze around with Estelle for most of the day until you step outside to sit on your balcony to watch the sun set.

Your phone buzzes and you look down to check it, seeing a text from Xavier.

💛 :”whatre u doing outside this late?”

A smile tugs at your lips and you tell him that you're watching the sunset to which he doesn't respond. Instead his response comes in the form of a figure hopping down from the floor above you and grabbing onto the concrete wall of the balcony. “Watching it together would be better than watching alone.” He says, reaching out toward you and you grab his hand, tugging him fully onto your balcony.

“You scared the hell out of me, Xavier.” I say, looking up at the sky. “Give me a warning next time, please?” “I'll try my best.” He smiles, propping his arm up on your shoulder. “Aren't you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Ah…a little bit.” You look down at your feet with a small sigh and decide to sit down in a chair. “I'm nervous, but also anxious, but also I don't know what to expect. I have a plan and I know it'll work, but I'm unsure of where to go from there.”

“Well instead of worrying about it, how about you just go with the flow?” He crouches down next to you since you only had one chair, he rests his chin on your knee as he looks up at you. “Don't stress about what hasn't happened, just focus on right now and you can worry about the future when it comes.” You rest your hand in his hair and smile, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “You know, you talk like an old man.” Your thumb brushes against his forehead, “but…I don't mind it.”

“Besides watching the sunset, I know of another way to calm down. Do you want to hear about it?” Xavier asks, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently brushes against your fully healed scar and your eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Have you tried it with other people and that's how you know it works?” You tease with a raise of your brow. “How do you know it'll work, huh?”

“Well… you won't know unless we try.” He stands back up, resting one hand on the armrest of your chair. His other still on your right cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “May I?” He asks and you go to nod, but remember before that he told you to speak. “Yes,” you say before adding softly under your breath, “please.”

Xavier's eyes close as he closes the distance between you, his lips gently brushing against yours before fully connecting. He doesn't try to deepen the kiss, leaving it as a soft, yet intimate moment between you both. After a few moments, he breaks from the kiss and leaves a few scattered kisses across your face. His final stop was at your scar, his lips brushing along the scar from the top of your eyebrow all the way to your cheekbone. Your body immediately jerks in surprise at the touch since you realized your scar was rather sensitive. “Better?” He whispers, going back to resting his forehead against yours. His ears as red as yours probably were.

“Thank you.” You say softly, cupping his cheek and you rub your thumb back and forth across his cheekbone. A loud meow coming from behind you both finally breaks the moment and allows Xavier to pull away from you. “It seems like Estelle was jealous.” He chuckles, picking up the large cat with ease. “It looks like she's worried about her mommy.”

“She'll be fine because she'll have her daddy looking after her while I'm gone.” You say nonchalantly, not noticing the blush that spread across Xavier's cheeks or the way he buried his red face into Estelle's fur. “You really have a way with words.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“We missed the sunset!” You realize, quickly standing up as you whine. “Damn it.”

“We might've missed the sunset but didn't we make a better memory in place of it?” Xavier muses, glancing over at you with a soft smile. “I guess we did.” You reach over to pet Estelle behind the ears and Xavier takes the chance to say, “Be safe tomorrow. Promise me.”

“I can't make any promises, Xav. You know that.” You sigh, hugging both him and Estelle. “But just know I'll do my best to come back in one piece. I can promise that. I'm not going anywhere any time soon.” You murmur into his chest and rest your forehead against it.

“That's…” Xavier lets out a heavy sigh and gives you a forced smile before he nods, “That’s enough for now.”

D-Day

Finally, it's Hunting day. Your last day of knowing what comes next. You spent most of the night tossing and turning, mulling over what would happen and worrying over getting hurt, but you felt a bit better now. Especially as you changed into your clothes for the day. In the game, the main character showed up at the Nest in her uniform and while that would be the best kind of bait, it seemed impractical. If you're trying to be bait, wouldn't being obvious bait deter people? If you're too on the nose, people might think it's a trap. So instead, you opted to put on a strappy, red ruffled shirt that was tucked into a white skirt. You added a belt and you set your red low heels by the door. You spray some perfume and spend a few minutes getting ready to look your best.

A stylish outfit is a good weapon for a woman. That and your actual weapon in its holster under your skirt. You shrug on an expensive black jacket, one of the only things you own that wasn't in game, to hide your obvious weapon. You weren't sure when the right time would be to leave so you decided to have your last meal. Well, it wouldn't be your last meal but it definitely felt like it. After you ate, you'd leave for the Nest to meet up with Rafayel. Your last message to him being ‘Meet me at the Nest and show me how to fish.’ to which he replied that ‘the biggest fish come out at night.’ So you assume 10-11pm would be an appropriate time to leave?

You still have time today so what were you going to do?

You took a few more notes on what to expect after and made sure the tiny tranquilizer was in your pocket. The antidote vial sitting on your kitchen island ready to take before you leave. You double, no triple, no quadruple checked that you have everything and spent a few hours anxiously pacing back and forth and petting Estelle. You were never good at waiting, especially when you were anticipating something.

You decide to leave at 10pm, giving you an hour to get to the Nest, which makes sense since you'd be walking. You down the vial, tossing it in the garbage as you head toward the door. You slip your shoes on and lock the door behind you after feeding Estelle for the night.

Honestly with all this walking, you should probably just bite the bullet and learn how to drive since you already have a license in this world. But driving is scary and you have bigger issues to deal with right now so that'll have to come later.

As you walk through Azure Square, you pin your ‘family’ crest to your jacket, trying to make sure that not all of Jeremiah's hard work went to waste and even though you have your hunter's watch on, it is covered by your jacket sleeves so you assume it'll be fine. A pretty bait is what you're planning to be tonight, no need to go too overboard with it. You enter the Nest and it just looks like your average nightclub. People were standing and drinking, some slightly dancing to some music or talking amongst themselves, not many people were at the bar though, besides the bartender.

As you look around, your vision is blocked by someone stepping in front of you. “Hey there,” the man’s eyes glance at your crest as he continues, “Actually-”

“Isn't it a bit weird to do business with newcomers?” Rafayel steps into frame, practically shoving the other man out of the way as he fixes his sleeves, not even sparing the man another glance. “Come.” He loops a finger with yours as he pulls you up to the bar. “So…do you have your bait ready?” He asks, leaning his chin onto his hand.

“Mmh, I'll play their game and allow myself to be caught. Act like a clueless little worm on a tackle.” You say, nonchalantly. Not mentioning the N109 Zone since you didn't want to catch others' attention just yet. “You'll still need to cast your line though…that should be easy enough.” Rafayel drums his fingers against the bar counter before he hands the bartender a coin. He picks up an embossed card, sliding the blank side over to you. “Go ahead. Write down what you're looking for.”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head as you grab the black feathered pen that was sitting in a nearby cup. You write down ‘aether core’ and the ink disappears a few moments later. Rafayel scoops up the card to hand it to the bartender who nods and disappears into the back. “Who's he going to tell?” You ask, turning your body to face the well dressed artist. “Doesn't matter. If they're interested, you'll know.” He muses, moving his hand over to trace random shapes on the back of your hand.

“Rafayel?” He's still silent before he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “Now, we wait for the fish to bite.” “How long?” You ask after he lets go of your hand. “Hmm..not long. The Nest lives up to its name, you know? An underground intelligence network that's well known to match supply and demand.” As Rafayel finishes his sentence, the bartender comes back with a shot glass. He places it in front of you before stepping away once more.

“And this?” You ask before assuming this means a fish has taken a bite so you reach out for it and Rafayel suddenly grabs your wrist. “Think about it first. The glass is black, that means you'll have to pay a high price and if it doesn't go smoothly, you'll be the payment instead.”

“Well, being the payment is better than sitting here and doing nothing.” You shrug, downing the shot in one go. “Since you've made up your mind, I won't stop you.” Rafayel chuckles, placing his hand on top of your head to ruffle your hair. “I hope you find the answers you seek.” He stands up from the barstool and doesn't look back as he walks away, just puts his hand up as he waves.

“Alright, I guess let's look around until the hunting starts.” You murmur to yourself, rising to your feet as you walk around the bar. You notice a board off to the side, a wanted board. You see a head shot of Lumiere who looks obviously like Xavier except with a white mask and an outfit you've never seen before. A small chuckle leaving your lips before you notice how much he's wanted for. “100 million? Geez, what did he do?” You step a bit closer to look at the other wanted posters and you only catch a glimpse of purple hair on another poster before someone runs into you.

“It's starting, it's starting.” The drunken man excitedly mumbles to himself as he walks further into the crowd.

The lights suddenly shut off and a modified OTTO patrol bot rose up from a podium in the center of the room. The circular robot flies high until a voice booms from it, “There's a price to pay when a wish is granted! Will you be the hunter or the hunted tonight?” The robotic screen was a deep shade of red, the camera on it shaped like an eye. “Hunting day will now…commence.”

As your gaze lands on the eye, you feel your blood run cold. This…this reminded you of the red eye from your nightmares but you couldn't put your finger on how. You decide to play it safe and try to find a place to hide but honestly, where can you hide? You're in an unfamiliar, crowded place so you're not even sure where the bathrooms are and why would you hide if the plan is to be caught in the first place?

Your thoughts are cut short as the voice says one last thing. “Now.” It's red gaze lands on you, effectively spotlighting you to everyone in the crowd. “Shit.” You mutter to yourself as a few people in the crowd walk toward you.

“There she is…we've been looking for you.” One person says and another one chimes in, “This is the prey.”

You're a tad bit overwhelmed as people close in on you and as you try to dip out of the crowd, you feel your breath leave you as you're hit in the back and your knees hit the ground hard. “Hey-” you say, trying to turn toward the person and elbow them in the gut but they grab you by your hair and hold a vial in front of your face. “C-003, a neurotoxin. If you're smart, you won't put up a fight.”

You sigh, head hanging down and your hair covers your face to hide your smile. At least everything still went according to plan. Now what comes next is a complete mystery. Your smile leaves your lips as you feel the butt of a gun hit your head and you fall to the ground.

I'm keeping the extra spaces in this chapter to show a comparison, so just let me know which you prefer and I'll keep doing it for the up-coming chapters! Also, this won't be a cliffhanger for long since I'll also be posting chapter eight today. I decided to spoil y'all 🩷

I do want to add that I change up mc's dialogue compared to what she says in-game sometimes because I don't like how it's worded or I don't like specific actions she does (like shaking Mephisto, you'll see). I also make comments on her stupid actions- like her trying to hide in the original chapter or wear her hunter's uniform as if she wants to scream to the Nest, "I'm a hunter!! Please, take me!" Instead of being more low-key and under the radar.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

[albatris]

Hiii tell me all about Nat I love him sm

:D!!!

Hi hello! Absolutely I can tell you about Nat! I’m glad you like him and thank you for the question!!

Here is a big ol' chunk of words, some bits I've nabbed from other posts, too :3

Nathaniel Felix Finch, a good boy, a sweet boy! He’s the protagonist of our silly little horror trilogy, much to his dismay

He’s 25 years old and works at Stop ‘N’ Go 24/7 Petrol and Convenience, where he is prone to falling asleep on the register and shoplifting (both encouraging it and participating in it <3). He’s a bit of a hermit, not because he doesn’t want friends, but because he’s awkward, anxious and paranoid. He’s got schizotypal personality disorder like me, so it’s tough for him to engage with the world and feel comfortable

His story kicks off when he wakes up on the side of the road in his rental car covered in dirt with no memory of the past nine days. All attempts to return to regular life are quickly thwarted when it becomes apparent he’s turning into something inhuman and ravenous. He spends a week in agony and coughing up blood and almost passing out in public and being starving and existing in constant sensory overload… which reaches a gory climax when he kills and eats someone in a botched robbery of his petrol station and he's like Ah Fuck Apparently I’m A Vampire Somehow And I Just Ripped Someone’s Throat Open I’m Going To Go Have A Panic Attack Now

He is yoinked from mortal peril by shifty fucking bastard with a mile long list of ulterior motives perfectly ordinary kind selfless human person Quinn Cooper, and a bonkers plot ensues <3 Book one mostly sees Nat struggling with his new condition and trying to figure out what happened in his blackout and why he got vampired, and slowly uncovering the grim secrets Quinn is hiding. Book two and three wander into more “Nat Finch Is Going To Kill And Eat Vampire God (The Garble)” territory

What to say about Nat… hm…

He’s an excited, friendly, cuddly lad, if you can get past his layers upon layers of anxiety! He loves people although he’s afraid of them, and believes people are good and that he can do good in the world. He’s prone to bouts of depression and apathy on occasion, though, and especially struggles to balance his kind, gentle nature with the fact that he now has to eat people to survive. He's got a big existential crisis coming hahahaha

He loves animals! He regularly donates to wildlife charities despite not having that much money to begin with, and used to volunteer at a cat café for rescue cats (with Yvonne, another of our main characters!), and only stopped due to his social anxiety. He has a sweet little rescue kitty named Grub, who's just the scrungliest ugliest thing you've ever seen (he'll cry if he hears you say that, though). He's been a vegetarian since he was 17, and still considers himself one despite the fact that he's now an entire vampire who preys on humans. So you get like..... bits in the story where Nat drains some guy like a capri sun then the next day is like "no I can't come to check out the new Korean BBQ place with you Quinn I'm a vegetarian :((( you'll have to take someone else :((("

He's also a good cook and especially loves cooking for other people and sharing meals! This is one of the most common ways he shows affection :3 If Nat drills you about your favourite food and offers to cook it for you sometime, this means he wants to be friends :-) Most of his dishes are vegetarian, but if he really, really likes you he’ll cook meat as long as you ask nicely

He loves to be useful! He’ll gladly rush around and help with errands or putting furniture together or organising things. If you tell him you appreciate him or he did a good job he will bask in that compliment for weeks like a golden retriever that’s just been told it’s a good boy haha

Tragically he can be a bit of a doormat, especially at the start of the story. Though he pretended to be fine with his solitary lifestyle and loneliness, he’s always desperately wanted connection and friendship, and this makes him prone to letting people take advantage of him or manipulate him.... purely because at least that way he feels "useful", and they're more likely to keep him around...... he improves a lot on this front, though, so don't fret! We get to see the lad's self-esteem improve! He initially doesn't really like himself that much, but the story gets to see him come into his own and find his values and worth....! He's a good, kind, intelligent person with a lot to offer, he just takes a while to figure it out!

Oh also he's a huuuuge drama queen and is completely willing to play up being sad and pathetic to get what he wants <3 this is an important Nat Fact to know

Hmmmmm.......... what else......

So, it becomes clear as the story goes on, he’s not exactly a regular vampire… he can access a lot more of the Garble hivemind’s power than other vampires can, which left unchecked can result in an overload of power affectionately referred to as Monster Mode Nat :P a big ol’ body horror vampire creecher! Violent and aggressive and jumpy, out of control. It’s usually a state of intense fear for him, something that occurs when he’s in very dire straits, when he or his friends are threatened, etc etc… a Nat too far in Protector Mode, basically, that can easily become dangerous even for the people he's meant to be defending. He is still able to recognise Friends, though it takes him more effort, but struggles to make sense of unfamiliar people as anything other than resources, food or threats

As far as regular vampire Nat in the day-to-day goes, he's prone to all the usual vampire instincts. He’s got extra anxiety and paranoia and jumpiness on top of what he already had, he's got that usual insatiable insufferable vampire curiosity, he loves to bask and be cosy and snuggle with friends. He can purr and it's extremely cute. He has a moderate to severe allergic reaction to sunlight though it won't kill him immediately, he struggles with garlic much to his despair as a cook, n he has an extremely high prey drive that he has to work very hard to manage

Oh and Nat mostly preys on rich pricks and abusive bosses, as well as the occasional creeps at bars, which is very valid of him <3

Anyway yeah! This has been Nat Posting with Monday! I hope you have enjoyed these Nat Facts <3

[unnecessarywriting]

Back? And new suggestions (fandom/fics etc)

So...I've been inactive for like over a year now. oops...

But I have some time. I'm currently just getting over college and still looking for a job, so I have some time to write so stupid stuff. Plus I'm bored so this seems like fun.

Anyway, I'm sure most of you don't know me which is cool. It's nice to meet all of you and welcome to my poor excuse for a blog.

While I have my bearings, if anyone has any fandom suggestions or requests you can send some in. I have rules (fandom/character stuff is open though because I fully have been so busy that I haven't engaged in like content for too long).

So please, help a gal out. I'll try writing some of my longer stuff in the meantime but I like shorter stories. If you have any questions just lemme know. Also feel free to explore my masterlist (link on my pinned post) to see my style, although it has changed a bit. Plus you can check out any rules I may have.

Thanks for helping this little lad entertain herself as she undergoes a minor existential crisis!

(also I'm actually pretty cool and friendly so feel free to just message me anytime)

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours || Accepting !

@defyxoblivion sent: Ⓐ Klarion Bleak, the Witch Boy

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

"Woh? I gots eyes. Th' lad's good-lookin', n' aye, he's sort o' cute when he dun gets th' most basic social shite." Cue to an amused snort. "N' I bet tha' he could look...appealin' under the rite circumstances. If yeh catch me drift."

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

"Personality wise, he's a wee bit...less attractive. Dun get me wrong, th' lad 's bright, even too bloody smart for 'is own sake at times, but he ain't th' easiest person to deal wit'. He can be a friggin' pain in th' arse. N' I'd know, 'cause I'm one too. Blimey, I swear tha' if I gots white before me time, it's goin' to be his fault."

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

"Theoretically speakin'? I wouldn't mind at all. He's attractive n' I'm curious to see 'ow he'd act if propositioned. Cor, th' last time I mention fuckin' to 'im, he said some shite 'bout friggin' marriage. It was hilarious."

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend

"Me official role is Klarion's 'babysitter'. Zee calls it 'guardian', but trust us, I'm bleedin' babysittin' an eternal teenager wit' a jus' as lastin' identity crisis. It wouldn't be too bad, if it wasn't tha' said lad 's far too powerful for e'eryone's sake. But we've been in each other's 'air for a while now n' I think yeh can say tha' we're mates too."

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"Our first meetin' wasn't woh yeh'd call pleasant. N' after tha' Zee dumped 'im under me protection n' I spent a bloody week keepin' 'im n' 'is fuckin' cat under locks. It wasn't easy. At all. I slept even less than I usually did 'cause I felt like I couldn't turn me eyes away from 'em. Tho, I gots to say tha' by th' end o' it, we were already startin' to get alon'. Yeh sure as 'ell can't be bored 'round someone like 'im."

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"Th' crazy lad grew on me. I could say tha' he didn't, but it's bloody obvious. He still drives me mad more often than not, but...he's fun to be 'round. He challenges me n', while I love a quiet day as any other bloke, I enjoy th' rite kind o' stimulation too. Also, he grew up n', blimey, he turned out friggin' easy on th' eye."

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

"I dunno 'ow much kissin' experience he gots, but I bet tha' he probably kiss like a bloody virgin. So, 's goin' to take 'im lots o' practice to catch up wit' oul me. Or, even easier, I could teach 'im a few tricks meself."

[weregreatatcrime]

AYO CAN I GET UHHHH number 9, 22, 24, 29, 30 and can i get some fries with that?

Ask meme here!

9: How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?

Very hard to say just because when I'm hyperfocused on art I might spend two hours a day or so and fill up like ten pages a day, but then go like two weeks without touching my sketchbook lol. Currently not in a drawing mood so iiiiii haven't actually touched it in a sec. Last thing I drew were maps for dnd

22: Are you confident that you’re improving steadily?

Absolutely. To a degree. I'm positive that I've always been improving in my art, except for my health crisis in 2021(? Ish) when I spent two years without picking up the pencil. Both for mental health reasons and because I literally couldn't hold one lmfao.

Getting back into art after that was hard. Having to train myself to hold a pencil was rough and my skill definitely suffered. I don't think I've gotten back up to where I was in skill before that time. Sometimes it's really, really frustrating. But also I've found that I've gone a bit of a different style since then as well, which I think is really cool and interesting. Some things I'm picking back up faster than others. Fuck, sometimes I SHADE my art now. I never used to do that lmao

24: Do you feel jealous when you see other people’s art, or inspired? (Be honest!)

Nope! My personal journey with art has taught me a lot about the technical skills that go into art. My personal problems being unable to draw for so long taught me how to sit back and stop thinking about what I can't do, but to admire what others Can. I don't get jealous of other people's art- I'm just in awe of it. It's amazing what different people can create with different skill and ability sets and I think there's something real fucking magical about that. Sometimes I use other people's art as inspiration, seeing little techniques I wanna try out, but overall... idk. Leaving art for the reasons I did gave me a much bigger appreciation for everything about it and I just can't find it in myself to compare art because everything is unique and amazing

29: For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc)

I use a really cool red toned oil pencil from Faber Castel for my under sketches! Then I follow it up with just normal pencil lines. If I'm feeling spicy, I'll lightly shade or add deeper values with the red. I'm a simple lad. My art is almost entirely sketches and anatomy work because that's what I love to do

30: What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

*points up to 24* All of that. My personal experiences have given me a pretty solid love of all artwork and it all inspires me.

Most of all? Collaborative work of any sort. Fandoms are considered collaborative work. Drawing things for my own writing. Drawing things for a friend's writing. Drawing OCs interacting. Shipping friends' OCs, with each other or Canon ships! Making stupid funny shitposts that haunt the collective mindscape for years to come. (I don't think the Trollhunters Fandom will ever forgive me for Thiccmar) Writing something that inspires someone to draw. Drawing something that inspires someone to write. Art trades. Are collabs. Countless role-playing. My friends who commission me to draw or write them the craziest shit that I have an absolute ball with. Just stuff that makes other people see it and go "I can play with these toys too!"

Collaborative work fuels my fucking soul and I love love love getting to do things with other people, when I have the capability of doing so