#Maelstrom ow oc

[ultravioart]

I have recieved input from all sorts, ty to those that responded! Many votes for "Maelstrom" from friends, asks, and replies, so that's the pick! I also liked the idea of Hadal being the name of the omnic model.

Thus the lore is my deepsea welder omnic oc is codename Maelstrom, and his omnic model is one of the HADAL omnics used for deep sea exploration/welding/repair. There are various HADAL units, all made to withstand high preassure in deep-sea exploration.

Ability ideas and voice line ideas below:

Maelstrom will have a lot of preassure based abilities.

He repairs things via contact welding, by using his hardlight tech to apply preassure on the nano scale.

Because welding is upclose and personal, he will be a Melee support, think ana style heals/damage but shotgun. Maelstrom would be a big help if that player has good enviormental awareness, but is easily taken out if the player gets tunnel vision or is damaged from afar. His main weapon is an ally heal/enemy bleed damage welding beam, has ammo. Idk if it should be burst or a steady stream healing, but welding lends to burst?

He is able to better withstand CC with a crouch slam ability that sends him downward--timed well it can be used to dodge things like hammer strikes. It easily counters sig ults. Maelstrom doesn't take Cc from his own abilities when crouching. He has a Pistol Shrimp style snap ability (Melee range) that works like Ashe's Coachgun shot boop, booping Maelstrom in the opposite direction and applying bleed damage/ally heal similar to Ana's shots. (Again, if he crouches, he doesn't get knocked back) He is meant to be supporting the team fight, applying, you guessed it, pressure lol. Brawler for sure but possibly even dive comp due to his Melee and slam + snap fling, able to jump in, or out, but that mobility is on cooldown. He is vulnerable in the air though-- so it's good to manage the snap fling vs slam for maneuverability.

I was thinking maybe he could have some kind of sonar ability considering his deep sea motifs and how supports tends to have a special attribute, but I am not sure if that would be needed? He wouldn't use wallhacks himself since he can't damage/heal long distance like hanzo or ana. Another idea was that he could have some kind of lifeline ability (think scuba divers sharing oxygen) that puts his own armor onto a selected ally for a clutch save, but in turn makes him vulnerable?

I also like the idea of him maybe being able to change a character's armor to shield or shields to armor for a short period of time since he uses light tech to weld?--this could be a means of protecting allies with shield health by suddenly giving zen armor health for a few seconds, or fast healing allies with armor by giving rein shield health for a few seconds. Or maybe he can just switch himself... but the ow2 support passive of self regen negates any pros shields might give.

Still brewing ideas for this. Right now he's just a reaper with ana ammo, an orisa fortified drop, and an Ashe jump lol. I may even scrap the ashe jump because I want him to seem sturdy and grounded down, bc the Hadal models can withstand high pressures (unmovable like orisa) and are very strong because of it. Tiny guy, but very dense.

His ult is essentially a swiss-cheese Winston bubble that heals allies inside, but if the bubbles shields are broken by damage from enemies or if Maelstrom chooses to pop it, it does bleed damage to the enemies within the bubble. This way Maelstrom can choose to Heal or choose to damage with his ult. The bubble has marine inspired projections swimming around in a whirl, inspired by fishball schooling behavior. Maelstrom is completely vulnerable during this ult, remaining still inside the center of the bubble (think junkrat, Bastion). I thought a full shield would be too op for his ult, so the shield is segmented and rotates so it has large moving gaps where enemies can still shoot through. Sombra hacks cancels it, and Ana's anti heal can offset the healing, making the ult useless. Killing Maelstrom first before he can pop the bubble, or using Kiriko's cleanse, Lucio beat drop, etc, can counter or completely null the bleed damage from his ult popping.

Bleed damage makes most sense for him bc one: welding torch, two: Ana poison/Ashe fire/JunkerQueen bleed already exist, and three: bleed still allows the enemy team time to outheal his Melee range damage so Maelstrom isn't deleting people, only punishing those who get too close and don't have backup.

On voice lines: Since the Philippines is known to use multilingual Taglish (English + Tagalog use, It's like Spanglish, etc.), I can imagine Maelstrom uses phrases between Tagalog, English, and Sinama. I have to do more research into Sama languages to discern which specific language makes most sense for the location. Definitely three different language versions of the "hello" greeting lines though.

[wraithsoutlaws]

Different anon but I wanna say i love your DD cyberware hcs! Which honestly are really more like canon if you read certain maelstrom convo shards..but also their signature eye cyberware is an optic nerve split so they take the nerves attached to the back of the retina and reroute them to the faceplate resulting in a super fuckin wide field of view, and apparently the FPS on those bad boys is in the hundreds resulting in killer headaches/migraines if used for too long

Bonus question! Does Al like cockroach? I don’t think I’ve seen her interact with him

man if that were me i think i would shove my head into a pillow and never leave BUT that being said i do have a couple other thoughts on that topic brewing in another post so im gonna leave it at that on this one for now but to answer your question

yes!!! i have severely neglected al content here unfortunately but she loves cockroach and cockroach loves her! i'm not sure i ever mentioned it but al also has a critter friend (because i'm really predictable and weak). she finds a hurt possum on the road and nurses him back to health. she names him Axel, after the man who helped raise her and whom she misses very much. axel is like the anti-cockroach in that where cockroach is a generally good hearted boy, axel is rabid and menacing and will bite most people who approach him except for al. so she has a good rapport with lil guys already and is absolutely delighted when she meets cockroach. instant best friend tbqh

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 10

In the quiet of the morning, with the first light filtering through the curtains of Lando's room, he found himself wrestling with a maelstrom of emotions. His anger simmered beneath the surface, a coiled serpent ready to strike at any moment. How could George have sunk so low, manipulating Amelia with such cruelty? The thought gnawed at him, festering like a wound that refused to heal.

As Amelia slept peacefully beside him, her features softened in the gentle embrace of slumber, Lando's gaze lingered on her face. She looked vulnerable yet resolute, a paradox that echoed the complexity of her character. He reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch feather-light against her skin.

But beneath the tenderness of his gesture lay a steely resolve. George's betrayal had ignited a fire within him, a fierce determination to protect Amelia at all costs. He couldn't bear to see her hurt, to witness the scars left by George's deceit etched upon her heart.

Rising from the bed with quiet determination, Lando moved with purpose, his steps measured and deliberate. He knew what needed to be done, what battles needed to be fought. George may have wielded his manipulative tactics like weapons, but Lando refused to be a pawn in his twisted game.

With each passing moment, his fury grew, a tempest raging within him. But tempered by his love for Amelia, it became a driving force, a beacon guiding him through the storm. As he prepared to face the challenges ahead, Lando vowed to stand by her side, to be her unwavering support in the face of adversity.

For George may have thought himself clever, but he had underestimated the depth of Lando's devotion. And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of gold and amber, Lando's resolve burned brighter than ever before, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

In the dim light of the morning, Lando paced back and forth in the living room, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor like the steady beat of a war drum. With each step, his anger smoldered, a relentless blaze fueled by the betrayal of his oldest friend.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Lando retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed George's number. The device hummed softly in his hand as it connected, each ring a countdown to the confrontation that awaited.

Finally, on the fourth ring, George answered, his voice smooth and composed, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within Lando's chest.

“George.” Lando's voice was clipped, a tightness betraying the fury simmering beneath the surface.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence pregnant with tension.

“Lando, my friend, what a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?” George spoke, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of apprehension.

“I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for a paddle session? I have a proposition I think you might be interested in.” Lando lied, his plan slowly falling into place.

Lando's words were a calculated deception, a carefully constructed facade masking the true purpose of their meeting. As he spoke, his mind raced with the intricate details of his plan, each piece falling into place with precision.

“A paddle session, you say? What kind of proposition are we talking about here, Lando?” George's response was guarded, his tone betraying a hint of curiosity mixed with caution.

“Oh, just a little business venture I've been considering. Nothing too serious, of course. But I thought you might be interested in hearing the details.” Lando's lips curled into a sly smile, hidden from George's view but dripping with cunning nonetheless.

There was a pause as George considered Lando's offer, weighing the potential benefits against the risks.

“Alright, Lando. I'll bite. Where and when do you want to meet?” Finally, he spoke, his voice betraying a hint of intrigue. 

Lando's smile widened at George's acquiescence, his plan inching closer to fruition with each passing moment.

“How about tomorrow morning, bright and early? I know a spot down by the river.” Lando suggested, pleased with George’s willingness.

“Sounds good. I'll see you there.” George hesitated for a moment, as if considering the proposal, before finally agreeing.

With a satisfied nod, Lando ended the call, his mind already racing ahead to the next phase of his plan. As he prepared to confront George head-on, he knew that their meeting by the river would be the first step towards unraveling the web of deceit that had ensnared them both.

“Hey, Lando.” George greeted Lando as he arrived at the paddle court. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“Yeah, it has.” Lando nodded in acknowledgment, his expression neutral as he approached George at the paddle court.

Lando couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him, knowing that Amelia had been through so much because of George's manipulation.

As they entered the locker room after their paddle match, Lando's mind raced with anticipation. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the opportunity to confront George and put an end to his manipulation once and for all.

“So, what's this proposition you wanted to discuss?” George asked, tossing his paddle into his locker.

“It's about Amelia.” Lando took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation.

“What about her?” George raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Lando replied, his voice low and steady. “The video.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, mate.” George's expression faltered for a brief moment before he regained his composure. 

“Don't play dumb with me, George. I know about the video you have of me and Amelia. And I know you've been using it to manipulate her.” Lando retorted, his frustration mounting.

“And what if I have? What's it to you?” George's facade crumbled, replaced by a cold, calculating glare.

“It ends now.” Lando declared, his tone firm. “You're not going to use Amelia anymore. I won't let you.”

“And what are you going to do about it, Norris? You think you can stop me?” George's lips curled into a sneer.

“Try me.” Lando met his gaze with steely determination. Lando was undeterred, his resolve unwavering as he stared down his former friend. “You can blackmail me all you want, but no one will ever see that video, that will destroy her career and all her credibility. Now, I know she always meant a lot to you, George, so do you really want to be the person she hates for the rest of her life?”

George's expression softened slightly at Lando's words, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He knew that Lando was right, that releasing the video would irreparably damage Amelia's reputation and career. And despite his ruthless nature, he couldn't bring himself to be the cause of her downfall.

“I said try me.” Lando challenged, his gaze unwavering.

For a tense moment, the two men locked eyes, the weight of their confrontation hanging heavily in the air. Finally, George let out a resigned sigh, his resolve crumbling under Lando's unwavering gaze.

“Fine.” He relented, reaching for his phone. “I'll delete the damn video.”

Lando watched as George deleted the incriminating video from his phone and cloud storage, a sense of relief washing over Lando as he watched the footage disappear.

“Thank you for making the right decision for once.” Lando's voice was laced with a hint of sarcasm as he spoke, unable to resist a jab at George's expense.

George turned to leave the locker room and paused, turning back to face Lando.

“She likes bravado.” Georges observed catching Lando’s attention.

“Excuse me?” Lando's retort was sharp, his tone defensive as George's words struck a nerve.

“Amelia. With Daniel, it was fun and adventures. With Charles, it was all about worklife balance, finding someone who shared her passion for their work. With you, it's about her being taken care of instead of having to take care of herself. She'll never admit it, but she likes to be out of control, have someone else tell her what to do, be cared for.” George explained his analysis.

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” Lando quickly countered, refusing to acknowledge the truth coming from George. 

“You know, I have spent probably as much time as you trying to protect her.” George admitted.

“Protect her? You blackmailed her. How is that protecting her?” Lando retorted, scoffing at George’s audacity.

“She has no business being involved in underground business. The faster she got out of it, the better. She isn’t like the rest of us.” George argued back. There was a palpable tension in the air, a silent standoff between two former friends turned adversaries.

“What do you mean by that?” Lando wondered, his interest piqued.

“Do you love her, Lando?” George asked, evaluating the situation before explaining himself further.

“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I didn’t.” Lando responded, unsure of where George was going.

“Her name isn't really Amelia Rossi.” George started, his voice soft as he spoke.

“George, cut the bullshit already.” Lando sighed, already over the conversation.

“When Marilyn was pregnant, she suffered trauma to her abdomen late in the pregnancy following a car accident. Harold sent her up to the country to give birth and a few weeks later, the Rossi's returned with a beautiful baby girl.” George continued, ignoring Lando’s dismissive attitude.

“I know the story.” Lando retorted. He had heard the story told hundreds of times from birthdays to anniversaries to the holidays.

“Except there's a lot more to it. What no one knows is that Marilyn had a stillbirth. Their baby girl was buried outside Sussex - the real Amelia Rossi. At the time, Harold was adamant to have a child he could raise to take over his business. They had also learnt that Marilyn wouldn’t be able to conceive again. So, he orchestrated a kidnapping of a baby girl born just a few days earlier in a town up the road.” Georges further explained, and as he did, Lando’s demeanour softened as he listened.

“There's no way.” Lando breathed, taking a step back and sitting down on one of the benches in the locker room.

“Her name was Catherine Mitchells. She disappeared out of her crib in the middle of the night and was never seen again. Clyde, her father, spent every last dime tracing down every possible lead and it somehow led him to Harold Rossi. Of course, Harold didn't want to get his hands dirty, so he summoned my father to help... Clear up the mess.” George added, also taking a seat next to Lando on the bench.

“What does that even mean?” Lando asked, a bewildered look lurking in his eyes.

“My father killed Clyde Mitchells in the woods one night when we were teenagers. No one ever looked for him. Sadly, his wife died shortly after the kidnapping from broken heart syndrome, so he had no other family who would notice him missing.” George answered, leaning against the locker behind him.

“You realise how crazy this sounds, George.” Lando shook his head, unable to comprehend the information laid before him.

“It's true, Lando. I have the paper trail to prove it. My father keeps exceptional written records for these types of reasons.” George answered, aware that it might be a lot to process. “So when I say she isn’t like us and deserves better, that’s why. Her father was a good man, and she seems to be just like him.”

“What woods was he killed in?” Lando asked, his brows furrowed in confusion as the information rippled through his mind.

“Does it matter?” George asked, almost chuckling at the questions.

“Yeah, it does.” Lando insisted.

“Off Canterbury towards the old abbatoirs.” George answered, nodding his head in the direction of the old abbatoirs.

“When?” Lando continued to ask.

“Eight years ago, around her seventeenth birthday.” George clarified.

“Are you certain it was in those woods?” Lando queried, desparate for a different answer.

“I’m certain. Why does it matter?” George repeated his earlier question.

Lando's mind raced as he tried to piece together the significance of George's revelation. The mention of the woods near Canterbury triggered memories he had long tried to bury, memories of a tragic event that had haunted him for years.

“It matters because... because that's where…” Lando's voice trailed off, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of emotions and memories. 

George watched Lando closely, sensing the turmoil brewing beneath his composed exterior.

“Do you remember a party at Susie Hopkins' house probably around the same time? The one Amelia and I were late to and you then told everyone we hooked up, that’s why we were supposedly late.” Lando finally whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation.

“I remember.” George nodded in acknowledgement.

“We were late to the party because we got lost. We drove down Canterbury and stopped because we had no signal to call for help. We walked for a bit and stumbled upon a group of men in the woods. It was quite dark, but they shot someone.” Lando's revelation hung heavy in the air, the weight of its implications settling like a leaden shroud over the conversation.

George's eyes widened in shock, his features contorted with disbelief as he struggled to process the gravity of Lando's words.

“You're joking, right?” George asked, his voice strained with disbelief.

“I wish I was.” Lando replied, his tone grave. “We stumbled upon them by accident. It was dark, and we couldn't see much, but... we heard the gunshot and saw him fall to the ground. All I remember seeing was his glasses falling to the ground before he did.”

“Lando, that was probably Clyde.” George stated, bringing the unknown into the spotlight and for the first time, Lando had some clarity on what happened that night in the woods.

“She saw her own father get murdered and didn't even know.” Lando grunted, unable to process the news and the possible ramifications thereof.

“Lando, you might kick the hornet's nest if you do anything with this information. My father will kill me for saying anything.” George pleaded.

George's plea resonated with Lando, the weight of their shared history and the potential consequences of their actions bearing down on him. He understood the gravity of the situation and the risks involved, but he couldn't turn a blind eye to the truth any longer.

“Then we're even. You leave Amelia alone and I won't implicate you or your father if I go to Harold.” Lando conceded with a shrug.

George nodded in reluctant agreement, his expression reflecting a mixture of apprehension and determination.

“Just promise me you'll be careful and keep her safe.” He said earnestly. “I don't want to see anyone else get hurt because of this.”

As Lando contemplated the weight of the information George had just disclosed, his mind became a whirlwind of plans and strategies. He knew that navigating the treacherous territory ahead would require careful consideration and meticulous planning.

First and foremost, Lando recognized the need for discretion. The implications of confronting Harold about his involvement in Clyde’s murder were staggering, and any misstep could have dire consequences. He couldn't afford to rush into action without fully assessing the risks and potential ramifications.

Drawing on his experience and resourcefulness, Lando began to map out a plan of action. He considered the key players involved, from Harold to Steve and even his own father, possibly, and the other witnesses present at the party. Each individual brought their own motivations and vulnerabilities to the table, and Lando knew that leveraging this knowledge would be crucial in unraveling the truth.

At the same time, Lando recognized the importance of gathering evidence to support their claims. While George's testimony provided a valuable starting point, they would need concrete proof to corroborate their story and hold up in court. This meant conducting thorough investigations, collecting witness statements, and perhaps even obtaining physical evidence from the scene of the crime.

As he delved deeper into his plans, Lando remained acutely aware of the dangers that lay ahead. The Norris family's reputation and his own safety were on the line, and any misstep could have devastating consequences, especially for Amelia who would get caught in the middle regardless. Yet, despite the risks, Lando was determined to uncover the truth and bring justice to those who had been wronged.

With his mind buzzing with ideas and strategies, Lando knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and obstacles. But armed with determination and a sense of purpose, he was ready to face whatever lay ahead in his quest for the truth. If it meant protecting Amelia, he would have done anything.

[soupthecoolest]

CnD!

alright! so CnD, or "Creation and Destruction" is my homebrew "dnd" campaign!! i have dnd in quotes just cause. well my autism got too strong and i made an entire handbook with my own mechanics LMAO so it's really it's own Thing at this point. which is super cool n fun. after everything's been wrapped up i might publish that handbook but WE SHALL SEE.

anyway CnD is my own personal excuse to make my friends rp with me and my crazy ocs. SO.

it all started when the 11 party members crashed on the beach in a town they'd never seen before. looked totally normal until at the end of the first session they found a portal!

jumping in, that just... kept happening. small adventure, portal, repeat. with no end in sight. as the party began questioning why all this was happening, they met these two little FREAKS named mayhem and maelstrom. (i'll add all refs i have below!!)

anyway mae n may mentioned an elusive “She” that they’re working for, which led my players down an insane conspiracy rabbit hole in which they guessed 90% of hullabaloo’s vibe based on a PRONOUN. ONE PRONOUN I DROPPED I CAN’T TELL THESE MFS ANYTHING

next, they met pandemonium, (@weedsmokingbfs's oc!!! owe you my life muppy) who told them that: these portals aren't taking them place to place, it's transporting them around purgatory. and they've all died.

since then it's been up to the party to navigate their purpose, how to escape, all of it.

then they met bedlam, who explained to them this crazy prophecy and the reason they're all trapped there, which connects to a decision he made 800 years earlier.

enter callie.

my god this is so much to explain IM CRAZY ok. so callie and dee (@percexe) had been meeting in the void for centuries. he'd see callie there when he died and never knew why. 2 idiots had an unspoken pact to not talk about their pasts, but boy they should've!

it would've revealed that callie is actually named chaos, and directly related to all the other crazy clowns they'd meet across the campaign.

they're called the Story, the main 6 pantheon of gods i've set up in this universe! so we've got (in order of like. "hierarchy")

mayhem and maelstrom: gods of war and balance (he/they)

pandemonium: trickster god of illusion (he/it)

bedlam: god of magic and prophecy (he/him)

hullabaloo: goddess of joy, day, and spontaneity (she/her)

chaos: goddess of narration, night, and tradition (she/he)

the Story are basically the worlds most fucked up family, all considering each other brother and sister. in the beginning they were fine, but as time went on things just naturally got more and more messed, and now everything is just a nightmare

chaos and hullabaloo are kinda a tier above the rest of the story, part of their own subset called the Storytellers.

hullabaloo wanted more power and betrayed chaos, trapping her in the void for eternity, as she wanted to rule the universe herself. which all circles back to how callie met dee.

in the void, chaos didn't feel like himself and took on the name calypso, which is how she introduced herself to dee once they met.

and nobody found out anything out of a series of insane miscommunications and lack of info! what fun!

but now in the campaign timeline, everyone's basically caught up. we've finished the first season and are heading into the second in a couple weeks!!! also excuse if this feels rushed at all it's because it is <3 LMFAO there's just so much with CnD, this barely scratches the surface.

there's so much i couldn't cover here like the prophecy binding the party to purgatory, bedlam's entire role in that, the mages, etc. we're like 25 sessions in and so far i've planned 40 more. i am SO normal!!!!

PLEASEEE ask about it if you're curious!! im so insane about my campaign it is my pride and joy :]]

in order there: hullabaloo, chaos, bedlam, pandemonium, and mayhem and maelstrom! ART CREDS for pandemonium and may&mae refs @weedsmokingbfs !!! once more muppy i owe u all my beans

[twistedtummies2]

How do your OCs feel about FNAF? How do they react to the jumpscares?

So, Theodore and Reno are the only OCs of mine who I think would have strong feelings about FNAF. Theodore is a fan of horror games, in particular, and Reno is just a gamer in general: if "Five Nights at Freddy's" existed in the TW-verse, I'm fairly certain he'll have played it at some point. With that said, I think the two of them have completely different opinions. While I don't think either one is the series' biggest, hugest, craziest fan, I think that Reno finds the franchise fascinating. He loves looking into fan theories, is curious about all the lore, and he finds the first couple of games, in particular, to be challenging and genuinely creepy. Plus, it makes for good streaming/Let's Play views, which he certainly has no problems with. Theo, meanwhile, finds FNAF annoying. XD I think he USED to be interested in the lore and mysteries, but it's gotten so wild and overly-expansive he can't even be bothered to follow it anymore. As for the gameplay, he's never really liked any of the games: he admits that when you first play the original game or two, it can be genuinely scary, but after a while the scare factor wears off and it goes from challenging to obnoxious, and the different twists on the formula have only made it more aggravating. NOW, AS TO THE JUMPSCARES...this one, we can use the entire cast for. ;) For the sake of argument, let's presume all of these are the first time these characters play the original FNAF and start getting jumpscared. With that said...

Nakoda: Alright, let'sss check thisss camera here, and-huh. That possster looksss different. Wait? Who is laughing? WHO'S LAUGHING AT ME?! I'm not gonna-(lowers camera to see Golden Freddy)...Mother. (screams and flails and falls over as the jumpscare activates)

Reno: Let's see, now if I can just shut this doo-(gets jumpscared by Chica)-AAAAAAAAGH! (jumps back in his seat as the game goes to static...is stunned for a few seconds...then starts to laugh and applauds) HA HA HA HA! ALRIGHT, YA GOT ME! Alright...whoo, okay! Guess I gotta adjust my strategy. Let's try 'er again, baby...!

Elias: Why do people like this?! This is so frustrating, and-WHOA, THAT FOX IS MOVING FAST! Okay, shut the door, shut-(Foxy jumpscare; Eli yelps and yipes and flees and hides behind his bed...then peeks out, ears flattened back, whimpering like a dog scared by thunder)...I don't wanna play this game anymore. 8'(

James: (checking the cams while Smitty is watching) I see you, ye mangy sea dog! But there shall be no quarter for ye! See, for the clock is almost upon the hour! I have bested you, for you cannot break through my defenses! HA HA HA-(is jumpscared by Freddy) Smitty: Wow! That was kinda startling, huh, James? (pauses) Uh...James? James: (is frozen and paralyzed where he sits, face aghast) Smitty: James! JAMES, SPEAK TO ME! JAAAAMES! Theodore: (jumps back with a sharp gasping noise after getting startled by Bonnie. Sits there for a few moments, just...stunned and pale...then takes a shuddering breath and settles down) Okay, that...that got me, fine, I'll give you that...jeeze, my ears hurt now, ow... Maelstrom: (doesn't get scared, and instead starts cussing violently before rage-quitting after getting trounced by Foxy for the fourth time in a row) Grit: (also rage quits...but instead of cussing and shouting, just sits there...one eye twitching...takes a deep, DEEP breath...and calmly shuts off the game before vowing never to play it again) And finally...Billy. Dear, sweet, adorable Billy-boi. We don't let Billy play horror games. Because while I don't think he actually scares easily, I think Billy IS very susceptible to jumpscares, in particular. He's not used to big, scary monsters jumping at him and screaming, because...well...he's a giant. Usually, if anything, he's the one doing that! So, in a situation where that's a problem...yeah, he'll actually really get scared by the jumpscares. And with an abundance of them, like FNAF...well... Billy: (trembling and whimpering, wrapped up in a big blanket, nursing a mug of hot cocoa) MC: (places hand on Billy's arm comfortingly) Ace shouldn't have tricked you into playing that game. I just talked to him. Billy: (just sniffles and whines) MC: (comfortingly rubs Billy) It's okay, big guy. Bonnie isn't real. He can't hurt you. Billy: (on the verge of tears)...That was not a nice bunny... 8'(

[rainbowgod666]

Girl.

I can CANONICALLY snort universes like cocainer

I made the 40k chaos gods question wtf is wrong with me (except tzeentch but hes a mistake of reality SO-), i am Herobrine's therapist (im italian. i OWE IT to him). I record everything and it genhinely hurts. I lived as a king as a child, lived and survived a maelstrom of hormones, and ascended to a divine rank thanks to a shitty youtube channel.

I had John Constantine tell me that all those esoteric and arcane things that ever had ANYTHING to do with him were whispering to him to run away as fast and far away as possible regardless of how futile it is. The first thing i did when going into the DC-Marvel multiversal conglomerate was completely break down the joker to the point that me lobotomizing him so he is biologically and CONCEPTUALLY unable to do and feel anything other than shame for its actions is probably a mercy. I have literal creepypastas as my own Mercenary Unit. I looked at Bright's original author being a bad person and took him as my OC, and did the same to Betty once i heard what things Camila did behind the scenes. My dragonball OC isnt even THAT powerful but the only reason people dont fight him is because he (usually) battles to KILL and hes extremely successful at that. The me in Wolfenstein has MANY TIMES used his cover as official to EAT THE FASCISTS. The me in madness combat literally doesnt need the nexus halo. I retconned half of fucking south park and had cartman work with frieza and uncle ruckus to become the multiverse's "unnecessary racism check" and the only excuse i have for this is a TED talk of a black guy that was friends with a KKK offical. I looked at Yuya (yugioh arc-v), Epon (SCP-166), Melony (smg4), shinji (evangelion), The Blind Girl from popopoka, Deku (MHA), Luz (TOH) and pomni (TADC) and granted them Deity-Slaying Autistic Bullshittery because i looked at their lives, went "no, that wont do" and gave them the right to look at the universe and bitch-slap it for its shit. My first imaginary friend was GHOSTFREAK. My irl life is SOMEHOW "aligned" with world events and I DONT LIKE IT. I lived early 2023 scared, and late 2023 recovering. Only within the last month/2 months my brain is TRYING to stop shitting itself through intrusive thoughts based upon occult bullshit that I DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT. I am eternally oscillating between Sonic Exetior Xenophane's "I AM GOD" Julius Rubert Oppenheimer's "I have become death, destroyer of worlds" and I dont need to because all i want is have a cool youtube channel that brings the 2015-2018 era back into the following years because it turns out that when the only solution you can find to the world's problems is "i should subjugate humanity" it takes 5 seconds to go "wait a fucking second" and realize how bad it actually IS

I think raising a few transgender gods is definetively within my rights to make people love me with them also saying that im extremely annoying (even though im apparently not)

are you considered tumblr famous?

I hope not

[werewolfdays]

plants and nature + vaune!

• 💐 BOUQUET - create a bouquet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favorite?

For Vaune I’d choose - 

Lotus: It signifies rebirth, self-regeneration, and enlightenment. 

Amaryllis: Signifies pride.

Daffodil: Signifies new beginnings

Hollylock: Signifies ambition

She’s pretty neutral on flowers. They’re pretty, sure, but they don’t serve any purpose for her.

• 🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Vaune had a wish really deep down that didn’t surface until the relic heist went to shit. Once she lost Jackie, died, and found out she was dying again, she realized she basically had nothing/no one that she actually had a real connection with. She still cared about Viktor, Misty, and Mama Welles, but after Jackie, she could barely look Misty in the eye and she definitely couldn’t bring herself to face Mama Welles. Then there was everything she owed Viktor. 

Vaune grew up a streetkid with no family. She thought that was pretty great for most of her life. Hell, she even took pride in not pledging her allegiance to any gang, but when her world got turned upside down, she realized how much she was missing. All she wanted before the clock runs out was somewhere to belong. To find a family. To know what it feels like to have people to fight, die, and live for and who would do the same for her. So besides a stubborn will to survive, that’s what she started fighting for. 

• 🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

it’s not great, but it’s not the worst either. Vaune can keep calm until she gets bored, then she’ll blow up and shout or throw some hands. However, a really good way to piss her right off is to be disrespectful to someone she cares about. All of her humor disappears and she does not let any of that shit slide. 

• 🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

Vaune is very much allergic to cats, which is unfortunate because she admires them a lot for their ability to keep thriving in Night City. Every time she spots a stray, she smiles, maybe throws it some scraps. But as soon as they start rubbing all over her legs, it doesn’t take long for her nose to start running and her face to hurt. Hairless cats are a little easier to be around, so she couldn’t say no to Nibbles.

• 🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favorite season? why? 

Springtime has always been her favorite. It’s not to hot and not too cold. There’s sunlight, but some clouds. Plus she loves to drive her bike as fast as she can through a storm and winter rain is too biting.

• 🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favorite outdoor activity?

Aside from the Badlands, there aren’t many places to enjoy “nature” in or around Night City. Vaune actually really enjoys the desert. There’s a certain charm to it that draws her out of the clustered buildings, just to drive on that open stretch of road. The stars are brilliant at night out there too, which is her favorite part. 

• ☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

Vaune is a morning person only when she’s stayed up all night, which is pretty often. A sunrise is best after a night spent out or a mission that she kicked ass in. She’ll grab a cup of coffee, a breakfast burrito, and find a rooftop to kick back and feel proud until it becomes too damn bright and she needs to get some sleep. 

• 🕷 SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

Vaune quickly figured out that her worst fear is slowly deteriorating from a biochip that’s frying her brain. She thought she accepted the possibility of death a long time ago, but dying like that? It terrifies her more than any gun that’s been waved in her face.

for irrational fears... tbh Maelstrom gang members kinda freak her the fuck out. They don’t intimidate her, she’s shot up too many of them for that, but the more extreme body mods that they have do show up in her nightmares sometimes.

• 🌹 ROSE - do they like Valentine’s Day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

Almost all of Vaune’s encounters have been strictly casual and she didn’t really care for the holiday at all. Honestly, Vaune doesn’t really keep track of any holidays or birthdays, not even her own. She’s had a couple fwb people confess to her, and that always made her feel a little guilty because while she enjoyed their company, she never felt the same. But she still hated turning them down/ending things because of that. The first person she actually really caught feelings for was Panam, which lead to Vaune confessing.  

• 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - what’s a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?

Vaune never wants people to know that she’s scared shitless of dying. Part of what makes her such a great merc is being a bit reckless and jumping head first into danger. She’ll sport a crooked smile when staring down the barrel of a gun, but inside she wants to run. Or keep babbling until she sees the opening she needs to kill them first.

the only people she ever willingly opened up to about her fear was Skye at Clouds before she said the safe word and then later to Panam.  

• 🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

How much she hates Johnny Silverhand lmao. Obviously their relationship is a bit complicated, but Vaune butted heads with him more often than not and she let him know how unwelcome he was in her head. Luckily they grew to tentatively trust each other as the game progressed, but she still threw digs at him whenever the opportunity presented itself.

• 🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worst thing your oc could hear from someone?

the worst thing Vaune could have heard from someone was what Viktor told her when she woke up after the Arasaka heist. The next few days were the hardest of her entire life. Processing the info she knew, dealing with Johnny fighting for control, staring at the pills Misty gave her. It felt like an impossible scenario to deal with.

• 🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

Ironically it’s getting her forehead scar because, by all rights, she shouldn’t remember it. Another street kid challenged her to steal a gold chain necklace from a diner owner that always kicked the kids out of their favorite booth for causing too much ruckus. Twelve year old Vaune thought she was being slick by climbing up the fire escape to swing into his apartment window. It was raining, she slipped on a rung, and went headfirst through the glass. He wasn’t home, so after coming to and brushing herself off, she snagged his necklace and returned triumphant and covered in blood. That was her first heist. 

• 🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

Oh, absolutely! The concept of luck is incredibly fun for Vaune. At least until she realizes just how unlucky she is. The Arasaka heist falling apart? Unlucky. Getting shot in the head and surviving? Lucky. Having a second personality slowly taking over yours because you put a chip in your head? Unlucky. 

• 🌎 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

Once she is fully accepted into the Aldecaldos clan, she would give up anything for them and Panam. Vaune even tried to call off the raid on Arasaka Tower when things started going wrong, even if that meant she died. All that mattered to her at the end was keeping Panam and her family safe. She harbors a lot of guilt for the people that died that day and almost wishes she could go back and make a different choice. 

• 🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

I love playing assholes that secretly have a heart of gold in RPGs. When I make a new character in a video game, I decide on a general alignment (ie: chaotic neutral for Vaune) and prefer to let their personality develop through gameplay. I was surprised to find that Vaune took flight really easily. She kept surprising me after every major mission. 

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Ten

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Simple and Complex

"Twas early one morning a fair maid arose,

And slipped away with her lover's clothes,

And off to the fields a sure she goes

With naught e'na kiss in the morning early."

An unwilling smile pulled at Lyrra's lips as she smothered a sigh and attempted to pay her bard no mind. She finished hanging a few freshly laundered shirts and trousers as she listened to his approach. She had slipped out of her cottage long before Jaskier had woken. A basket of laundry in hand as she went to the stream – Geralt had roused enough from his place by her hearth to note her exit but seemed incline to rest longer himself. She was grateful for the solitude. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and calm the whirlwind that Jaskier had incited in her. She needed the distance and the time to figure out -

"Are you really just going to ignore me?"

Him.

Lyrra glanced around the shirt she was pinning up with a raised brow to see him standing proudly with his hands on his hips, "Did you say something?"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze at her in an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, "Lyrra."

"Jaskier." She intoned and bit back a smirk as he huffed.

A sly glint entered his eyes as he began to sing again.

"The bard arose and he discovered her sin,

His heart and his song composed quite the din."

Lyrra could not help the faint laugh that left her as she listened to him. Puckish amusement danced in his blue orbs as he sidled up next to her and slid an arm around her waist.

"And he had the will for to greet her so slim

With a kiss in the morning early."

She didn't need the last line of his song to see the kiss coming. A quiet sigh left her as she welcomed his familiar embrace. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their coupling and the calm she had achieved was swiftly thwarted by his touch. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Jaskier smiled contentedly at her, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon, you slept the morning away." Lyrra replied lightly as she moved her basket under the tree her clothesline was tethered on, "And I'm rather sure those aren't the words to that song."

"Ehh, I'm a bard, pretty much gives me free rein to change the words." Jaskier shrugged. His keen eyes cataloged her every move, "You should've slept the morning away too. You were up as long as I was."

As if to prove his point, Lyrra found herself swallowing a yawn. In all actuality, she had been up longer than he had. Her mind had not been able to let the events of the night settle and her dreams had taken a dark turn once she had drifted off. She still wasn't sure what had come over her in that bathing chamber, she was never that bold. Yet, bold was the only way to describe her actions from the time he entered until...well. A blush rose to her cheeks and she could see a salacious grin crossing Jaskier's lips from her periphery at the sight. He knew well where her mind had gone.

"Stop it." She murmured lowly, refusing to look in his direction.

"Stop what?" His tone dripped with quiet laughter.

"You know what." She glowered faintly at him and wished that she still had a few shirts to pin to the line, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

He tilted his head and his mirthful smile continued to tease her as he said, "You are adorably shy in the light of day. I do hope that I never make you stop blushing."

It was her turn to huff, "Jaskier."

He chuckled quietly and reached for her again, "Now what happened to the woman who had her wicked way with me last night, hmm?"

Lyrra was sure her face was scarlet now at his words as she allowed him to draw her close again, "She came to her senses."

"That sounds...not good." Jaskier murmured as he tilted her chin up and frowned bemusedly at her, "I suppose it's time we actually have that talk."

Lyrra shifted awkwardly under his gaze as she ruefully wondered which talk he was referring to, their tryst or her back. Neither was a conversation she particularly wanted to have, if for completely different reasons. She had been grateful when the topic had fallen to the wayside upon returning to her cottage.

She forced a smile when she realized she was taking too long to respond, "That talk."

"Yes, the one you've been trying to figure out how to avoid since I brought it up last night." Jaskier uttered faintly amused as she looked away somewhat sheepishly and bit back a sigh, "Believe it or not, not a conversation I want to have either, but as fun, as our little dance has been... we do need to -"

He waved his hand about as he tried to find the right words. Lyrra took pity on him as her smile turned a little more genuine, "Clear the air? Create some boundaries? Form an understanding?"

Jaskier nodded, "Yes, that. That would be good."

Lyrra stifled a giggle as she saw her nerves reflected in his expression. It amazed her how he could go from unerringly confident to uncertain in a matter of seconds, especially around her. She was not someone to be nervous around. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, reassure him. The impulse to soothe his quiet anxiety was strong and unexpected. She wasn't a tactile person by any means, she usually went out of her way to avoid being touched. Jaskier was her opposite in this manner, he felt everything, like an overgrown toddler. He picked up, played, listened, and sometimes tasted everything with which he came into contact. He took comfort in touch, she knew this implicitly.

As if to prove her unspoken point, he seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to caress her cheek, "What is it? Talk to me."

"It's nothing – I just...I tend to get carried away with you."

Jaskier raised a brow as he prodded her to continue, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not like me." She mumbled quietly and resisted the urge to fidget. She didn't know how to explain to him the maelstrom he made her feel. How she found him both comforting and disconcerting. How she allowed him more liberties than anyone since...since ever.

"Again, that's a bad thing?" He was more curious now than concerned. Jaskier had been far from surprised when he had woken to find her gone... simply disappointed. He was quickly beginning to learn that avoidance was his lover's instinctual response to anything that made her -

"It's an uncomfortable thing." Lyrra grimaced.

Uncomfortable. He smiled gently at her, at least she was somewhat aware of her tendencies, "You know, I typically don't do serious."

Lyrra blinked at the strange segue, "Really? Hadn't noticed."

He bit back a laugh at her dry tone as he made his point, "Serious is complicated and boring and messy. I like easy and fun, simple... but you, my lovely Lyrra, you are very complicated and serious. But I can say with absolute certainty you are not boring. You make me curious."

She merely stared at him still unsure where he was going with his little lecture.

"Curious. Confused. Uncomfortable." Jaskier answered placing a special emphasis on that last word, "No, strike that – you don't make me uncomfortable; you make me uncertain. None of that is necessarily a bad thing, you know?"

"Hasn't been my experience." Lyrra replied softly.

"No, I suppose it hasn't." His fingers brushed across her back and the brand he now knew rested there and she tensed at the reminder, "I don't think that I make you uncomfortable, either. I think it's that you enjoy yourself with me that discomfits you. Tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night."

Her cheeks burned and she couldn't meet his eyes as she fumbled for a response, "I... you know, I did."

"Do you want to do it again?" He asked quietly and linked his fingers with hers.

Lyrra felt her stomach flutter at the question as she tried vainly to ignore the heat that rushed through her veins, "...yes."

"So do I." He murmured softly and unconsciously leaned into her, "Is that really so unsettling?"

Her grey eyes were drawn to his lips, "...yes. You unsettle me, Jaskier."

"How?"

"I crave you. I've known you barely a fortnight." Lyrra whispered, not missing the desirous look that entered his eyes at her words, "And I crave your kisses and your touch... even your voice. I don't crave people. I don't know what to do with you."

"I think you know exactly what to do with me." He couldn't help the tease that left his tongue even as she hit his arm, "Ow."

Vaguely annoyed, she attempted to pull away from him again, but he refused to let her step back. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I don't do serious, remember? It's just... this doesn't have to be hard, it can be simple."

Lyrra sighed frustrated, "Nothing about this is simple."

"Only because you're making it complicated." Jaskier pointed out somewhat humorously, "We already agreed to not get married and after last night, I think we're agreed we can't be merely friends. Especially, since we both admitted we want a repeat..." His words slowly caught up with him and he offered her an acknowledging nod, "Right, we may be a little complicated."

Lyrra snorted and shook her head at him. He was utterly ridiculous and she adored it despite herself, "Let me make this simple. I like you, Jaskier. That's simple. You like me back, that's simple too. Last night was great and yes, I want it to happen again, but I'm not sure that it should."

"Why?" He breathed the questioned startled.

The possibility of them not continuing their affair had not occurred to the bard, she could see that plainly and sighed again, "In a day, a week, sometime rather soon you're going to be gone, Jaskier... And I don't - I don't want to miss you."

He looked like he had been struck and Lyrra tried not to wince under his stare or to follow after him when he stepped away. She felt cold at his abrupt distance. Perhaps, she had worded that too harshly. Guilt twisted in her gut as she silently pleaded with him to understand what she couldn't say.

"Right." A bitter laugh escaped him, "Oh, avoidance should really be your middle name, Lyrrana."

"Jaskier-"

"No." He shook his head and cut her off, "You don't want to miss me? That's shit, if ever I heard it. Let's reword that, shall we? What you really mean to say is: Jaskier, you're going to hurt me, so let's not even bother."

A stone sank with a ferocious crash in her stomach as his words and gaze scolded her like an unruly child. She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She stared helplessly, not sure how to respond or even if she should.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I really should've rented that room for us last night." He murmured almost sadly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

She swallowed tightly, "I know..."

"Do you?!" His disbelief seared her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze any longer, "Do I scare you, Lyrra? Last night did I -"

"No. No, Jaskier." Lyrra interrupted before he could finish his question, "I wanted last night. You didn't push me or force me."

Jaskier stared at her as he replayed everything he had said and done in that bathing chamber. A slow realization began to creep on him, "But I did scare you."

"No."

Despite the certainty in her voice, he knew it was a lie. It wasn't physical intimacy that was causing Lyrra's hesitance over their affair, it was emotional, "I did. When I saw your back. When I demanded you let me in, I scared you."

Lyrra's lips tightened into a thin line as she glared at him, "No."

Jaskier didn't seem to hear her as he muttered, "How am I attracted to the most emotionally stunted people on the bloody Continent?"

"Jaskier." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can we forget this conversation and go back to where you kissed me good morning?"

He looked as frustrated as she felt as he, in turn, uttered, "No. I promised you last night we go at your pace, not mine... I'll see if I can get my room back at the inn."

"You don't have to." Lyrra started softly.

Jaskier forced a smile at her and she hated it, "Yeah, I do. I think we both need our space. Simpler this way."

She went to protest further, but he cut her off once again.

"Oh...one more thing." A determined expression marred his visage as he swept back into her space and pressed his lips to hers. Lyrra gasped faintly at the sudden contact and he stole the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Unconsciously, her hands rose to tangle in his hair as he backed her against the trunk of the tree. A fiery thrill rushed through her veins as coherent thought left her and all she could do was cling to him as she simply felt.

She felt his warmth and the subtle strength in his body as he pressed against her. She felt his almost desperate grip on her hips and tasted his passion as he took his fill. He hadn't kissed her like this before... He was usually gentle, curious, searching, but this was demanding, almost possessive, it was dizzying. It wasn't until she completely melted into his touch that he pulled away and pressed his head to hers.

A smug gleam sparkled in his eyes, "That's what I thought too."

Utter confusion descended on Lyrra as she stared at him, "What?"

His smile was even smugger, "The thing about having this talk is that declaring our intentions goes both ways. I'll stay at the inn, but I fully intend to end up back in your bed and if I happen to fall into your heart, all the better. You don't get to ignore me. You don't get to be afraid of me, Lyrra. I'm not that scary."

No, he was terrifying.

He stole one more kiss before starting his trek to the cottage. Lyrra was left bewildered to stare after him. She shouted out the only thing that came to mind before he got too far, "This is far from simple!"

Jaskier spun on his heel and grinned, "Yeah, but I already told you – you're complicated. And I like you. Besides, I'm not that easy to get rid of, ask Geralt."

He disappeared around the bend a second later and Lyrra covered her face in disbelief, "He's absolutely mad."

»»————-　　————-««

Geralt felt a headache coming on as he headed back towards the woods. Enough time had passed since he had last checked the clearing that whoever had created the mutated fleders would have had the chance to find their corpses. He hoped anyway. Otherwise, he would need to figure out another way to track down those creature's creator and that meant spending more time in the Toussaint countryside than he was comfortable. Especially, now that Jaskier and Lyrra were...

He didn't know what the fuck those two were doing.

Which in part was why he had a headache now. Jaskier had been gathering his things when he had left the cottage, muttering under his breath about being drawn to emotionally constipated people.

Geralt didn't ask.

He would really rather not know.

What he had gleaned was that they were getting rooms at the inn. Despite his earlier protestations about overstaying their welcome in Lyrra's home, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with the general populace again. He pushed the thought aside as he moved quietly through the brush. The smell of rot had only become heavier in the days that followed and he no longer needed to follow his tracks back to the clearing. The other change was the faint buzzing of flies that filled his ears. The fleders decomp had attracted more insects. His teeth clenched as he resigned himself to the fact that the creator of the two beasts either had not bothered to look for them or the corpses hadn't been discovered yet.

There certainly hadn't been any talk amongst the locals about the discovery of two fleder corpses. He sighed as he stepped fully out of the woods and casually observed the clearing again. The flesh was almost completely gone from the fleders now... wait...fleder. One. Geralt tilted his head and eyed the shadows behind the first corpse. He wasn't mistaken there was only one body now. The other was gone.

He strode forward and bent to study the ground. There were drag marks, but that could have been from an animal dragging the body away for food. Yet, he found that scenario unlikely. Most scavengers could sense a potentially dangerous meal. The venom the fleder created would likely have made it toxic to any creature that attempted to eat it.

More silently than he had entered the clearing, he exited following the tracks. Even then, he could have followed his nose the stench was so bad. Whoever or whatever had come to claim the body had done so recently. It wasn't long before he stumbled onto a narrow path.

The trees had thinned and he could make out neatly organized rows of barren grape vines through the foliage. He must have been on the edge of one of the vineyards. Frowning, he continued on his hunt. Geralt noted the unnatural stillness in the air as he walked. He heard no birds or little critters scurrying through the brush. There were no distant sounds of farmhands, not even a breeze of wind to stir the leaves. A familiar twinge in his gut had him ill at ease, he wasn't the only predator afoot.

He must have walked a quarter-mile when he did finally hear it. It was low and shrill like an out of tune string on a lute. A song. Someone was singing. His twinge turned into a solid sinking instinct as he had a good assumption of what he was about to discover. His hand twitched for his sword as he dimly realized he had not brought the silver one with him. He had anticipated a human threat, not a monster. Geralt knew he had a choice to make – he could continue on and have his assumptions proven correct, but be ill-equipped to deal with the threat or he could head back and return later to a threat that had potentially disappeared.

Sighing quietly, he drew his sword and bent to pull a small silver dagger from his boot. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He skirted to the edge of the path as he moved like a stalking cat around the bend. His golden eyes missed nothing as he took in the dilapidated ruins of an old manor. Past the tumbled walls he could make out the form of a woman. Her singing was louder now as she hunched over the rotted form of the missing fleder. A bruxa.

He watched for a moment as the bruxa continued to sing. Her head tilted back enough that he could see what appeared to be tears streaming down her cheeks as she caressed the festered corpse. Geralt frowned in confusion.

Had the bruxa made the fleders? Was that even possible?

It wasn't unheard of for bruxae to hunt in packs, but he had never known a bruxa to bother with a fleder. The creatures were usually too stupid and wild to be of notice to the high order vampires.

A low grumbling sounded behind him and Geralt stiffened. It seemed fate had taken his choice from his hand. He whipped around to see a very alive, very hungry looking fleder. The commotion had garnered the attention of the bruxa and her song turned into a screeching cry.

"Fuck." Geralt muttered.

Previous Chapter     Next Chapter

[ultravioart]

No mwahs, headbonks only!! >:(

Based on the nyah meme:

[andveryginger]

4. In The Moment Kiss - Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop. For Oc/Ship of your choice! XD

Okay, so… this didn’t quite go like I expected. Adela and Saganu deal with some of the fallout from Copero.

Note: Non-Outlander agent, and builds on the headcanon that Adela and the Aristocra have had an affair that morphed into something much more.

They said nothing as the shuttle climbed out of the atmosphere, silence almost palpable despite the background noise of the engines, consoles, and life support systems. The rosy light of sunset gave way to the darkness of space and Adela watched as Saganu tapped a few commands into the navicomputer. He was the picture of Chiss control, hands moving smoothly across the controls, but she knew better: A maelstrom of relief, concern, frustration – no, anger – and a touch of fear swirled beneath the surface.

She cast a sidelong glance to Lana, who nodded imperceptibly. “Lieutenant Temple,” she began slowly, “would you mind very much helping me set up an encrypted transmission to Odessen? I’ll need to modify the algorithm slightly to avoid those Theron is familiar with.”

“O-of course.” Raina looked to first to Adela, then to the Sith with a furrowed brow. She shook her head and stepped toward the back of the shuttle. “If you’ll follow me…” Lana passed another glance to the former Imperial agent, then followed her.

Another long moment of silence passed between the Aristocra and his unofficial consort. It was finally Adela who spoke up, her voice quiet, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Saganu said nothing. He engaged the autopilot and sat for a beat, still, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. Suddenly, the Aristocra was on his feet, sweeping forward to close the distance between them. His hands came to rest on her hips, his mouth crashing against hers as he guided her backward.

Her initial response was instinctive – lips parting as his tongue slid against hers, arms sliding over his shoulders. The storm of his emotions surged, her Force connection amplifying the effect, leaving her dizzy as he conveyed so much with the intensity of his kiss. It was not until her back forcibly met the bulkhead behind them that she broke away. She blinked repeatedly, forcing her vision back into focus. Her voice emerged as a panting whisper. “Darling, we shouldn –”

“I’m sorry,” his voice rumbled. His breath was hot on her face, chest against hers, and hips falling into line. “I’m sorry to ask so much of you, beloved.” He swallowed, red eyes troubled as his gaze traced her features. “You didn’t have to.”

Adela gave a taut smile. “As your consort,” she replied, the words formed against his lips, “I did. I would have been remiss…” She paused, nipping briefly at his lower lip before drawing back before continuing, “in my duty and devotion…” Dragging her lips across his, she grinned as his fingers tightened against her hip and he gave a low groan. “…had I not.” She shook her head. “I had to protect you, beloved, as you’ve protected me.”

“She could have killed you,” he murmured. “This plan could have gone so terribly wrong.” His lips pinched at her jaw, her ear, her neck. “But here you are. Living – breathing – so warm…”

A gasp escaped her as his mouth found her pulsepoint. Heat surged to her core, fingers raking through his hair. “…and getting warmer.” She drew a deep breath, attempting to pull herself back from the emotions and arousal running rampant through her. “We can’t do this here, darling…”

“Aristocra, I – oh!”

The familiar voice of Raina Temple reached them, looking up as the petite lieutenant appeared around the corner. Her eyes were wide, and Adela sensed her discomfort well before the Force adept was able to smother it. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, cheeks darkening. “I didn’t –”

Saganu stepped back from Adela, clearing his throat and smoothing his hand over his hair. Adela allowed her gaze to drift  below his waistline and she was thankful – for both their sake – that his tunic covered the very obvious reaction she had sensed only seconds before. “It’s quite all right, Lieutenant,” he managed. “It is, perhaps, a conversation best left until we return to Odessen.”

“Conversation,” said Lana, now approaching behind Raina. “Yes, I’m certain that’s what it was.” A wry grin curved her lips as she folded her arms across her chest. “Our arrival is arranged. We’re expected before morning.”

Adela swallowed, nodding as she combed her fingertips through her hair, forcing stray strands back into the tight, upswept bun. It had been decades since she had been so thoroughly flustered, and yet she still felt a burn rush up the back of her neck. She was, she suspected, more embarrassed for the Aristocra than herself. It was rare for him to act so impulsively, especially with others so close by. “Thank you, Lana,” she replied. “I’ll… if you’ll pardon me…”

“Yes, of course,” the Sith replied. She looked to Saganu. “Actually, I am qualified in this model. I believe Lieutenant Temple and I can keep things under control, if you both would prefer to take a few moments.”

The Aristocra paused, lips pursed. His red-eyed gaze flickered briefly to Adela and back again. She sensed the moment his decision was made. “I do believe that would be appreciated, Director Beniko,” he replied. He bowed his head slightly. “Thank you.”

Lana said nothing, instead stepping and trading places with him. He cleared his throat again, then headed down the corridor, his cape billowing with the movement. It was as Adela turned to follow that she finally spoke. “Tell me, Lieutenant,” she said, “about this training program you developed for the Miurani phalanx.”

Within moments, Raina had been distracted onto a new topic, even as Adela, herself, caught up with the Aristocra. It seemed she would owe the Sith more than a few favors by the time they returned.

[feyria]

BNHA OC

Name: Oboru Namikawa (Monsoon)

Age: 17

Appearance: about 5'8" Oboru stands at an average height for his age with a slight tan, his hair -styled in messy curls- is a simple shade of brown while his eyes are a lighter color almost like coffee with cream. The palms of his hands as well as the area around his wrists contain special pores (arranged in swirls on his skin) that allow him to generate strong winds which in turn can be formed into his cyclones. Outside of the school uniform, Oboru likes to wear tank tops of varying colors with artfully ripped jeans and sneakers.

Quirk: cyclone- can create twisters and cyclones of varius sizes from his hands. He can even incorporate them into his attacks increasing his own physical strength as well as his speed.

Special moves: whirlwind fist- focuses a tightly spinning cyclone around his fist and releases it upon impact

Hurricane dash: uses two mini cyclones as skates to maneuver around

Slicing maelstrom: creates two large cyclones which he then combines to form an even larger cyclone to toss at his opponent (surefire way to set off his recoil)

Recoil: if used too much, he will get light headed, dizzy and his center of balance becomes compromised.

Hero outfit: His hero outfit consists of loose fitting black pants with swirling patterns stitched in purple and silver; his long sleeved shirt has a similar pattern but the fabric on the cuffs curve around his pores to help direct the wind he produces from them. These curves help him to form cyclones that rotate much faster than usual, naturally increasing their power. His shoes are black and grey sneakers, made with breathable fabric allowing him to ride his miniature cyclones easily as the air travels through and around them without disrupting their shape. As a safety precaution, his shirt and pants have hidden paddings on the insides should he ever fall on his elbows or knees.

Backstory: After 7 failed attempts at having children, oboru was born on his parents' 8th try and they were so ecstatic that they began to spoil him relentlessly. For 5 whole years oboru never knew the meaning of the word "no", this led him to be a very spoiled pre-teen unfortunately prone to throwing slight tantrums when not given his way. "Luckily" he suffers through a humbling experience at the age of 11 when a villian with the ability to turn into a gargoyle took him hostage. The gargoyle was blasted out of the sky by a rookie hero, sending Oboru quite literally tumbling to his death. His panic and fear caused him to misfire his quirk repeatedly until the recoil left him reeling, unable to tell if he was falling or flying up. Thankfully, All might had been nearby and the hero quickly saves oboru from the misfortune of becoming one with the asphalt. Oboru and his parents never were able to thank All Might enough in their minds and Oboru himself vows to become a hero to eventually pay back the massive debt he owes to the great hero. He very nearly worked himself to death after learning that All Might would be teaching at U.A, only truly relaxing and resting after being admitted to the school.

Personality: After the incident with the gargoyle, Oboru's spoiled and bratty nature has become much more subdued though he is still prone to at most complaining when held back from doing something he enjoys. Even though his quirk can be used in a way to make him fly, he still tends to only go about 8 to 9 feet above ground, the scars from his attack have left him with a near irrational fear of heights. He's not very competitive but will go into a slightly depressive state when losing an important fight. Oboru can also be pretty intense when All Might is mentioned and he spends his weekends training himself and his quirk to keep the vow he made to himself when he was younger. He is not ashamed of his admiration of All Might but his body still reacts to the teasing in the form of him blushing, though he constantly ignores this.

Family: Kiara (mother) can also create cyclones with her hands -if used too much, her hands and arms will cramp up very badly-

Eiji (father) can control air currents -has no major recoil but is very weak in areas with little to no wind-

[semper-draca]

Day 15: (Canon) Choices & Day 16: Consequences

For the 30 day swtor oc challenge. Putting both today and yesterday’s posts in the same thing because I once again forgot yesterday (in my defense, I was hella sick)

Choices: First off, a brief disclaimer. As Iustitia canon differs a lot from game canon, and even though when I think about Gimrizh I tend to think of Iustitia canon Gimrizh, this is all about game canon. So, yeah. If you’re reading Iustitia, this is not canon for that. 

In game, Gimrizh tends to make mostly light side choices, especially by the end of the game. At the start, she tends to be a bit more grey, but is solidly light at the end. One of the hardest choices she makes is letting Tremel live, as this is the first real (and only, until after Quesh) act she makes against Baras. It’s sort of her first and then only betray of him until he tries to kill her. Funnily enough, I never write this scene in Iustitia, only the aftermath of it. It’s hard for her, because she owes Tremel but also knows that she’s endangering herself if Baras finds out. At the time she decides to save his life, she also doesn’t really know what Baras is capable of. If she did, she would have killed Tremel. The only dark side choice she makes in the second two halves of the game is killing Baras - and that’s not hard for her. At that point, she does it almost out of spite.

To no one’s surprise, the other most difficult choice she makes is forgiving Quinn. In hindsight, she can’t not forgive him (not in that his actions are easily forgiven, but in that her character is too loyal to him not to once the whole picture is apparent). But again, she’s so (let’s also add an ‘unhealthily’ in here) loyal to so few people (Quinn being probably the person she holds in highest esteem) that it really destroys a lot of her trust in just about everyone. (Again, I do view Iustitia canon as actual canon for her character, and as I haven’t written the Quinncident yet, not going to go into too much)

Consequences: Biggest impact is Quinncident, see above. Second biggest though, is a tie. Being named Emperor’s Wrath is a big issue for her, as it’s a mix of all the things she really doesn’t like; being forced to go after Baras who she views as almost unbeatable, having insane amounts of power over other people’s lives and within the Empire, having no idea what the Emperor really wants with her or what’s coming next (at least she knew Baras’ goals). The other problem for her is (and this is Iustitia canon sorry it’s just a real big problem for her) the Maelstrom Prison Incident. Basically everything about that arc, from being forced to attack Celebris (Barsen’thor) who she is terrified of, from getting beaten so badly that she’s stabbed in the heart, to being captured, to being given a trial and sentenced to death, to finally fuckin realizing she’s in love with Quinn - the whole thing really makes her open her eyes to both who she is and what her limits are. Until that point she’s a survivalist, with the secondary goal of keeping those she cares about safe. During this arc, she flips those goals and comes to the realization that she would (and is willing to) die for them without hesitation. Like I said, unhealthily loyal.

[ultravioart]

Ramattra x Overwatch oc Maelstrom shitpost

based on:

bonus:

[ultravioart]

Overwatch Omnic Support Oc: Code name "Maelstrom" Here's the first attempt at a full body design with characters to scale. I will play around with Maelstrom's design some more, but it's a good start I think!

[ultravioart]

Ramattra: Do you know why I called you in here? Maelstrom: Because I accidentally pinched one of your wires during repairs yesterday. :( Ramattra: (pouring expensive omnic oil, surrounded by lit candles) ...accidentally?

[ultravioart]

Cracks me up that Maelstrom is an arm rest level threat. Sitting down, and Maelstrom and Ramattra are only like half a head apart lol.