#NOWHERE (Survive Verse)

[berylbled]

Character & verses (2/2)

[mckinlily]

Imagine a world where Bruce Wayne did not become Batman. Instead, he is just a Normal Dude. Or as normal as a billionaire deeply dedicated philanthropy in a city as insane as Gotham can be.

Because make no mistake: just because Bruce is not Batman does not mean Gotham is not Gotham.

There are a few new players though—on the Rogues side.

Timothy Drake is the teen business tycoon of Drake Industries. Absent of the inspiration of Batman and the socialization and warmth of Dick Grayson, he is ruthless and logical to a fault in pursuit of his goals and just as viciously chaotic as the disaster little brother Jason knows.

In other words, he’s Gotham’s youngest supervillian. The only good news is his chosen nemesis is Lex Luthor. Maybe. Timothy doesn’t care much about collateral damage. It’s not his goal to harm civilians, but he certainly doesn’t include their safety as a priority in his convoluted schemes to mess with Luthor.

Talon is an undead murderer who slaughtered a huge swath the Gotham’s 1% five years ago and, despite being spotted many times since, has never been apprehended. He appears when he wants and disappears just as readily, and Gotham just has to accept there’s a killer stalking their streets and there’s nothing they can do about it. Sometimes Talon has been known to rescue people, especially, but it’s never clear how or why exactly Talon chooses who is victim verses aggressor. And the end is always brutal and bloody for those Talon deems aggressor.

Damian is still Bruce’s biological son and raised by Talia in the League of Assassins. But when he was left in Gotham and met his father, this Bruce was so baffled and thrown by a child assassin that Damian immediately takes as rejection and runs away. (He doesn’t even stay long enough for Bruce to be sure it wasn’t a hallucination or very strange dream).

Damian is almost immediately found and adopted by Talon, so now Gotham has TWO bird-themed killers liable to jump down on you from nowhere and for any reason.

Oh, and god help you if you so much as make Talon’s baby Owlet sad. If you’re lucky, it will be the last thing you do.

Barbara is an ordinary librarian…who can be hired as a mercenary hacker for the right price. The public isn’t afraid of her because they don’t know she exists. More than one politician or public figure has been ruined because of the blackmail she unearthed on them. But what side exactly is the police commissioner’s daughter on? And how much of Gotham does she have under thumb?

(Is she a secret ally and accessory to Timothy Drake’s many plots?)

Steph, thank god, is actually NOT a villain, super or otherwise. She’s the one vigilante attempting to help Gotham. Spoiler has connections among some of the caped community like Supergirl or Wonder Girl. But without Bat training or the police cooperation forged years ago by Batman, she’s mostly just striving to survive while taking on Gotham’s many, many gang. Make no mistake, she’s impressive. But desperate. Spoiler comes with guns and explosions. So. Many. Explosions. Gotham has never heard of the “no kill” rule. And likely never will.

(Cass also lives in Gotham. But no one will ever see her or even know she’s there.)

Jason….well. Baby Jason never stole any Batmobile tires and never was adopted by a strange but kind billionaire. He was never killed at 15.

He died in the winter before he turned 13.

And then one day, Adult Canon Jason gets thrown into this dimension. And somehow Gothan is WORSE?! How is that even possible? Also his siblings are running around being super villains and killing people? Bruce! Control your children!!

But this Bruce does not have children (he’s still mostly convinced Damian was a prank or hallucination). He is horrified by the idea of children fighting crime. He has absolutely no idea how to handle exceptionally talented chaos machines with too much passion and no sense of self preservation. And he’s frankly a little disturbed by Jason himself and his guns and refusal to “work within the system” and Jason nopes out of there so freaking fast.

Jason also, slowly, has to become okay with the realization that his siblings are not insane because they were made Robin. They became Robin because they were already insane. There was no way to create a normal human being out of any of them.

(Jason does not want to look too closely at what that says about him.)

In the end, Jason teams up with Steph. He connects her with Dick/Talon, who is more than happy to have a new Owlet to train and preen, and Damian only slightly stabs her. They manage to persuade/threaten Tim into caring enough to help get Jason back to his dimension with misuse of Drake Industry research equipment. Damian very much does stab Tim. Tim retaliates by locking Damian in an industrial freezer. Dick thinks they’re bonding. Jason introduces them to Babs, but frankly he has no idea what he’s hoping to achieve from this. Probably nothing good because Dick, despite being an under-socialized undead assassin with some weird mannerisms and ways of speaking, still manages to pull a woman way out his league like Barbie. And Babs seems to have no problem with the “murder” part that description.

Jason never realized how much Bruce’s strict moral code and “the Mission” were key to the rest of them becoming remotely positive influences in society. Or how little Bruce has to do with his siblings getting into dangerous, violent situation. He doesn’t like anything about it.

They work out how send Jason back, and he returns to his dimension with the feeling he’s just left Alternate Gotham to a gang of supervillains.

…at least they’re together?

And Talon Dick won’t let any of his new Owlets die and will rain bloody vengeance on anyone who tries. So that’s good. For them at least.

(Jason feels absurdly like he should be apologizing to this universe’s Bruce. Or. Someone. He doesn’t. But he feels like he should.)

Back at in his dimension and at the Batcave, Jason pauses and just stares at Batman for a very, very long time. Finally, he takes a deep breath and solemnly nods just once before taking off into the Manor for Alfred’s cookies.

Bruce has no idea what the fuck just happened.

[podcastenthusiast]

"Here should be safe to set up camp," Geralt says, scanning the treeline with his eyes in that odd witcher way. Like he's seeing much more than a mere mortal could.

"Thank the gods," sighs Jaskier, who's been really starting to regret skiving off those physical fitness courses at Oxenfurt.

"Get a fire started while I tend to Roach."

"Oh Geralt, I'd love to, I would. Truly it's colder than a sorceress' shapely—"

"Jaskier."

"Well, as they say: you can lead a bard to timber, but you can't make him—"

"Just do it, Jaskier."

"I don't know how! All right? I've never built a fire in the middle of nowhere before! It's not one of the seven liberal arts, and I much prefer my fires stoked by comely barmaids in taverns."

Geralt looks at him for a long moment. It's a complicated look—frustration and amusement and a hint of regret. Mostly it's a look that says Jaskier is an idiot for joining him on the Path.

"Right," Geralt says slowly. He begins building the campfire himself.

"I imagine they teach wilderness survival to baby witchers at witcher school."

Geralt looks at him again and there's something different in his expression. The ghost of a smile? Jaskier doesn't quite know how to read it.

"Kaer Morhen," he says. "And yeah. Something like that."

"Oh?" Jaskier has to rein in his enthusiasm, his curious questions. Geralt so rarely reveals anything personal about himself or his past. Not that Jaskier has been forthcoming in that regard either. They live in the moment, day by day, but some context would help his creative process.

Besides all that, he genuinely wants to get to know Geralt a little better.

"Vesemir took me out into the forest one day. Gave me a knife and left me there for a month."

There is no bitterness in his words. If anything, the witcher sounds...almost fond. Nostalgic. Proud of his younger self for overcoming the challenges his mentors set before him.

It takes a moment for the true meaning of that to sink in and, once it does, Jaskier is horrified. His own parents weren't great, but even they would never simply abandon him.

"He just— like as a test— what—?"

"Real eloquent, bard. I doubt he had any choice. Probably wasn't even supposed to give me anything."

"How old were you?" he demands, unsure if any answer will make this revelation less abhorrent.

"Six? Seven? Maybe eight. I don't know." Geralt makes a gesture with his fingers and the pile of wood beneath his hand sparks with flame. "Not old enough to have learned Igni yet."

He can picture it, too, so vividly. Curse his dammed artist's imagination. Geralt, just a kid, alone and scared and definitely cold—because no one bothered to teach him how to start a fire.

"Stop it," the witcher snaps.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that. I'm fine. I was fine back then. Wasn't so bad at all compared to the Grasses. Vesemir came back for me like he said he would. I survived the trial—no, I didn't just survive; I exceeded all expectations, which is why they..." The witcher trails off. Takes a breath.

All of that... It's quite a lot of words for Geralt. Honest words, even.

It's his job to talk, to sing, to commit the most painful and difficult experiences to beautiful poetic verse. But Jaskier doesn't know what to say to his friend right now. Surely he has to say something.

"Geralt..."

"Don't waste your pity. Save it for the ones who didn't make it through. I did."

"Okay," the bard replies, careful and tentative. He isn't a brave man, nor a particularly kind one. But Jaskier considers himself an honest fellow so he adds, "Just because you made it through, you know, that doesn't mean what happened to you was all right, Geralt. Children aren't supposed to be left alone to fend for themselves."

The witcher laughs—a humorless, wretched sound. He doesn't say anything at all to that. Which is okay, really; Jaskier just needed him to hear it.

There is a long silence. The fire crackles. Jaskier absently strums his lute.

"You're gonna write a ballad about this, aren't you," Geralt says after a while.

"No!" Maybe. Yes. He won't perform it.

"Hm."

The fire crackles.

Quite out of the blue, Geralt tells him, "I befriended a wolf back then."

"What? You're joking!"

"Witchers don't have a sense of humor. Common knowledge."

"Common misconception. Most people are just stupid. No, hang on, stop distracting me—You had a pet wolf?!"

"Not a pet," the witcher corrects, smiling faintly. "Fangtooth was her own wolf."

"Fangtooth?" Jaskier repeats, struggling to contain his amusement. "Not Roach?"

"No."

"Forgive me, but that's adorable."

"I was just a child. I wanted to stay with her in the wilderness. Be a wolf, too. Or a knight." He shakes his head dismissively. Silly childish dreams.

"But you didn't," Jaskier says. And feels stupid for saying something so obvious.

"Too late for that," Geralt replies without reproach. "I was already a witcher."

"As a child, I wanted to run away and join the circus," the bard offers.

"Of course you did."

They're quiet for a moment then. Comfortable, shared silence. Just the sounds of birds and forest creatures, and Roach contentedly eating grass. The fire crackles.

"Geralt, will you teach me to light a fire? Without witcher magic, obviously, since I don't have any."

"Why?"

"Because...well, because I could be a more useful traveling companion. Like Fangtooth must've been."

"...Fine," Geralt agrees after some thought.

It is a skill he will be very grateful to have on freezing nights in the coming years, especially whenever the witcher is too injured or ill from those dreadful potions to help set up camp. He will try not to think of the child Geralt once was, subjected to horrific tests of his ability to survive all on his own.

Except he hadn't been on his own back then, not completely. And he isn't alone anymore, either.

[copaganda-clobberfest]

WELCOME

TO THE FIRST ROUND OF THE COPAGANDA CLOBBERFEST!

“You know that trope? That one trope *Everyone* hates? The trope in which a well meaning antagonist to our heroes, one looking out for the good of a certain community, suddenly does something horrible and drastic to make not only them, but the ideology they stand for the most villainous of all?”

NOW IS THE TIME TO BATTLE THEM OUT! Like Ken dolls, fighting for survival! Like your Polly pockets discarded in the closet, we’ll see which of these bitches jumped that slippery slope harder! Whose character did numbers on y’all, and blew up a bunch of grandmas and babies and hospitals with it!

ROUND ONE

HAMA from AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER vs AMON from THE LEGEND OF KORRA

Hama propaganda:

“A waterbender from the southern water tribe who was captured by the fire nation when they invaded her home. After being put through inhuman conditions to prevent her from waterbending, she learned to bend her captors’ blood instead to escape. She then lived undercover in the fire nation, for decades, before meeting the gaang. Then out of nowhere it’s revealed she’s behind the disappearance of a bunch of fire nation villagers and she tries to forcibly teach katara bloodbending so she can carry on her actions. And for what?? That doesn’t even make any sense!! She could’ve been at least targeting soldiers or officials but nope all of a sudden she’s actually the villain torturing innocents because she can and i guess that’s what happens after she goes through all that ???? ??”

“if iroh can get let off the hook for being a former fascist war criminal, hama can get off the hook for imprisoning people. hama was taken from her homeland, interned, and forced to watch all of her fellow waterbenders die in prison. the gaang's solution to her doing the same thing to members of the nation that wiped her people out? RE-INTERN THIS TRAUMATIZED ELDERLY SURVIVOR SO SHE'LL DIE IN PRISON LIKE THE REST OF HER PEOPLE. hama should be allowed to go home and see her few surviving friends and family again.

bloodbending wasn't just a cool evil new ability, it was a metaphor for generational trauma. that's why hama was so insistent that katara learn it: it was the final legacy of all those people who the fire nation purposefully exterminated, because it was the only thing that saved hama from that same fate. it was the only form of southern bending katara could inherit, because it was all that was left of them.”

Amon propaganda:

“his whole thing was that nonbenders are discriminated against in the avatar-verse, which isn’t all that wrong. except instead of fighting for something like more nonbender representation in government or, y’know, a n y t h i n g reasonable, he decides the way to solve this is clearly to take away people’s bending until… what?

honestly, I never was clear on if he had an actual plan

take away the bending of everyone in republic city? the world? stop at korra? who knows!

anyways. he decides it makes pErFeCt SeNsE that to solve the problem of nonbending discrimination (I honestly don’t think it was as oppressive as he claimed) by taking away peoples bending ability

which is akin to someone stealing your entire identity and for many, livelihood

but the real kicker is

the way he does it

IS BY BENDING

AND NOT EVEN REGULAR BENDING BUT A SUPER SECRET RESTRICTED ILLEGAL FORM OF BENDING

which is EXACTLY the kind of thing he fearmongers about when he says venders have too much power

so his whole platform of “I am one of you (nonbenders), chosen by the spirits to correct this inequality” is complete and utter baloney”

Always feel free to rb with more propaganda :)

[merakiui]

Omg apocalypse au 🤯

Having to choose which group(dorm) to take shelter, but that comes with a price...

Just wait till the repopulation part arrives

>:D I will share some basic thoughts about how each dorm would function!

Heartslabyul is very rule-oriented. Everyone has a job that they're expected to do so that the compound won't find itself swept up in chaos. Riddle is very good at keeping order within the group he leads, though sometimes his patience and restraint are tested when a certain few (Ace and Deuce) get on his nerves. Riddle is welcoming to all, but he's extremely cautious. After all, he can't risk letting anyone who may be infected with blot into this sanctuary. Trey and Cater are usually the ones who are permitted to lead a select few to scope out the nearby areas and go on supply runs. They probably encounter you on one of these runs and bring you back to Riddle when you beg for help.

Riddle has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to disobedience. Everyone gets three strikes, and if you breach the third infraction you're thrown out and banned from the compound. He's ruthless when it comes to this rule, so Ace is always toeing the line of a third strike. You've come to his rescue more than once, which infuriates Riddle because he assumes you're taking Ace's side, when in reality you're just trying to save your friend from impending doom (not that you approve of his mischief in such an uncertain time). The outside world is nowhere near as safe as it is within the walls of the Heartslabyul compound. Ace would do well to remember that.

Deuce is more well-behaved, and so sometimes he'll join Trey or Cater on supply runs. He's well-versed in fighting, so he can hold his own in a physical fight. When it comes to magic, he's still improving, but he wants to help out in any way that he can. He looks up to Riddle greatly and wants to prove himself as someone worthy and strong. Ace likes to tease him a lot, but it's usually Deuce who reminds him that he ought to be more serious. Apocalypses are nothing to treat lightheartedly. One wrong move and you could lose everything.

- - -

Savanaclaw is not very rule-oriented. In fact, the only rule that's made abundantly clear is that you have to fight to survive. You're either weak or you're strong; there is no in between. Leona was made king of the compound after dethroning its previous leader. He'll let anyone into the compound so long as they can hold their own in a fight and are useful. This usually means a test of strength, whether physical or mental, and if you pass Leona will recognize your worth. Ruggie is usually in charge of supply runs and any other operations. Sometimes they'll gather; other times they'll steal from nearby groups and compounds. Jack doesn't approve of these methods; he thinks everyone should be given the chance to survive, but Ruggie and Leona remind him that if everyone got to survive then the world's population wouldn't be sitting at what it is now.

It's Ruggie who takes you as a prisoner when he finds you snooping around just on the border of Savanaclaw's territory. Jack's there to remind Ruggie of respect and whatnot as he forces you along towards the compound. Jack doesn't talk much, but he does watch you keenly as you're led to Leona. He's studying you to determine whether you pose a threat, sniffing the air to see if he can pick out any foreign, perilous smells. Once you're deemed harmless and you manage to pass Leona's test, you're welcomed into the fray. Jack sticks with you, helping you adjust to the way of life in the group. Leona may seem lazy and hard on you at times, but he does secretly care. He just expects everyone to be able to hold their own. The world's filled with liars and cheats; Jack's realized that there's no helping it, especially when the world has become so unruly.

- - -

Octavinelle is a safe haven. It's as if Azul has thought of nearly everything in order make the compound as safe and welcoming as possible. Unlike the other compounds, which are all on land, Azul's makes use of both the land and the sea. Half of it is underwater, with nearly indestructible glass tunnels that connect into a labyrinthine structure built of the strongest, sturdiest materials, while the other half is built upon the land to make use of both environments. You may think the sea isn't as bad as it is on the land, but it's so much more frightening. Those dark, dangerous depths hold all kinds of infected things: monsters, mers, mer-monsters...

Azul is willing to accept anyone into the compound, even those who may be infected so long as they stay in a specific layer of the compound (the one far below the land in the sea) and will take the medicine necessary to curb the blot infection (it's not a cure, but it is something he's managed to conjure after much trial and error. Only Octavinelle can brag that they have something akin to a cure, and Azul is only willing to share for a very steep price). Azul himself is infected, as are Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Vil, and Idia, and perhaps even Malleus, and he's constantly finding ways to suppress the monstrosities of Overblot. Azul has built the compound upon lies and secrets, all of which rest at the foundation. He'll pile sweetness onto poison so that you won't ever find the truth amidst so many falsehoods. Anyone who proves to be an issue or has seen and learned too much will be cast into the sea, but not before being thoroughly interrogated by Jade and Floyd. There's always new information to be found!

Jade and Floyd are swift and strong enough to brave the horrors of the ocean in order to search in sunken shipwrecks and husks of plane to find anything that might be useful. They're a formidable duo and aren't afraid of anything. Either you learned of the rumors of a very welcoming compound and came to Azul willingly or the twins dragged you to him by force. In any case, you'll find yourself at Azul's feet, hoping he may take pity on you. Make no mistake; Azul will accept the poor, unfortunate souls left hopeless by the apocalypse, but that doesn't mean they're permitted to stay rent-free. You'll likely be given many tasks in order to earn your keep. Octavinelle runs on information; it's become somewhat of an intelligence hub, where Azul keeps note of what goes on within the other compounds and the world beyond his safe haven, trading and taking info as he sees fit.

- - -

Scarabia has also thought of everything to combat the apocalypse. Kalim is a little too carefree when he throws celebrations in order to keep morale high and to distract those from the gloomy situation beyond the compound. It's Jamil who really runs everything. He knows everything about everyone who steps foot in the compound and he's very picky with who gets to stay. He isn't one to act rashly, rather he'll think through every action that can be taken in order to solve a problem when one arises (which happens quite often considering how restless some get within the compound). He plans behind the scenes, allowing Kalim to think he's everyone's great and glorious leader who can bring happiness to all. In secret, he's getting information, keeping an eye on anyone who may pose a threat to the compound (such as any traitors), and he's ready to curb attempted usurpation at once.

Jamil does not trust easily; Kalim does. In fact, Jamil probably doesn't trust you when Kalim makes the decision to let you stay (he always lets everyone in; it's up to Jamil to turn those who he thinks are infected away. You can never be too careful in the apocalypse, so some may think he's heartless when it comes to deciding who can stay and who must go. But this is for the sake of the compound; you have to make sacrifices because this isn't an ideal world). Like the other compounds, you'll be given work to keep yourself busy and exercised. Whether that's by preparing ingredients for food, helping in the gardens, doing inventory of weapons and other supplies, etc. it's expected that you help out.

Kalim is quick to forgive those who may have broken too many rules or intentionally stir the pot, but Jamil won't tolerate it. Safety comes first, so he'll do whatever he must in order to ensure everyone else can continue to live at the cost of a life or two. He's had to harden his heart; the apocalypse isn't kind to those with pure hearts, yet somehow Kalim's still surviving. At least he can be a ray of sunshine amidst stormy situations.

- - -

Pomefiore is also quite orderly. Vil has everyone and everything under control, so much so that you'd think he's taken a page from Riddle's book. But being one of immense beauty (even during a crisis like an apocalypse) while having quite the famous reputation and status works well for keeping the masses at ease. Vil's word is law in the Pomefiore compound. He will not tolerate any mischief, rebellion, or foolishness, and if anyone thinks it's wise to act stupidly without regard to the rest of the compound Vil has no issue casting them out. This is to be a safe, responsible compound and he's the leader. It would be poor etiquette for a leader if he always let things like that slide, so for that reason Vil can seem quite strict and immovable. He only has everyone's best interests in mind, the biggest being survival. You must understand that he's doing what's right for his compound, even if the right thing is achieved at a few lost lives.

The towers in the Pomefiore compound are perfect for analyzing faraway areas with scopes, binoculars, and anything with ranged sight. It's also good for sniping. Rook usually mans one of the towers, taking down anything he deems a threat to the surrounding territory that Pomefiore has claimed as its own. He usually leads a group to hunt and gather, often returning with wondrous success. Epel wants to accompany him on these runs (he always arms himself with his trusty brass knuckles; he's actually quite good at hand-to-hand combat, and he's always improving each time he spars with Vil or Rook), but Vil forbids him from going on these runs. Until Epel can beat him or Rook in a fight, he will stay within the compound and complete other tasks. Epel usually works within the fields and gardens, tending to livestock and crops because he has expertise in doing such things. You will probably join him for these duties if you can't fight, use magic, or hunt as well as the others can.

- - -

Ignihyde is the perfect place to go to during the apocalypse. With the best, high-functioning technology, an abundance of resources, and a power supply that can last for many years to come, it is guaranteed to keep you safe. With STYX's technology and resources, the Ignihyde compound is thriving. It has been built meticulously and methodically; every part of it serves the whole. Walls rise high into the sky, it's enclosed with an indestructible dome to keep avian dangers or bad quality air out (usually putting such oxygen through a filter so that when it enters the compound it is fresh and breathable), the tech systems can create and simulate artificial sunlight, rain from sprinklers, and can even replicate the weather of the four seasons. This is probably the most sci-fi of the compounds. With the help of STYX robots and other technologies, any threats or enemies wanting to prey on the compound won't stand a chance. Any internal threats will be locked away in solitary confinement for further analysis.

Beneath the compound, there is a branch of STYX that conducts research on infected test subjects. Idia and Ortho will oversee the research, but it's Idia who is in charge and has the final say. All of the most intelligent doctors, researchers, and nurses can be found working at this branch. It functions as both a research lab and a hospital. STYX is hard at work to find a cure for the blot infections. Idia's overheard the recent success at the Octavinelle compound (he keeps tabs on every compound and knows more than you'd think), and he knows Azul wouldn't share his findings out of the goodness of his heart. Idia doesn't need his help, though. He has faith in STYX's research. They'll create a cure eventually; it's a process, not a miracle. Logical science always comes through in the end. After all, it's science that has allowed him to build up the compound so that it truly is the most OP compound in all of Twisted Wonderland. Besides, Idia's read, played, and watched his fair share of the apocalypse genre. He's very prepared for this.

- - -

Diasomnia may not be very technologically advanced like the other compounds, but what they lack in tech they make up for in magic. Some of the most powerful mages reside within the Diasomnia compound, with Malleus leading the fray. The concept of an apocalypse is not frightening nor foreign to he and Lilia. They've both lived long enough to have experienced, seen, or heard of things like famine, war, and natural disasters—each feeling like an apocalypse in its own devastating way—so an apocalypse such as this one is not very dreadful to them. They don't fear it in the way a human might, but they will provide protection to those who exist within the compound walls. The brambles that surround the Diasomnia compound's exterior are perfect for getting in the way of any enemies, and those with malicious intent will be promptly stopped by Silver and Sebek, both dedicated guards who have loyally sworn to fight for and protect Malleus. Though Malleus could also just incinerate dangerous people with a flick of his wrist if he was so inclined, commanding scalding, verdant flames to devour flesh and bone until all that remains is ash.

Lilia is very experienced in combat and in the art of war, so he usually trains those who show promise in fighting. He also scopes out the areas beyond the compound to search for supplies, sometimes going by himself and sometimes bringing Silver or Sebek along so that they may learn and train in the moment. Silver is a very rational mage; though he's prone to sleepy spells, he is a dedicated bodyguard who will always do the right, honest thing. If Silver encounters you, he will want to take you back to the compound to help you. Lilia will agree if he's there and happens to see you, a poor, little lamb in need of protection. He thinks you're simply darling. Though he may also have his own covert reasons for allowing Silver to help you. You'll never know what these are because he hides true intentions behind kind smiles and silly humor. If Sebek finds you, you may have to pray that Silver's with him to convince him into bringing you back, or you'll just have to hope he's in a pleasant mood. Sebek will not trust you, even if you appear to be genuine. Even if Malleus has made a good judge of your character, he'll still have lingering doubts. These will be snuffed the more he's reminded that the Malleus has said you aren't a danger and that you are allowed to stay and seek sanctuary with him.

Malleus grows quite attached to you the more he becomes acquainted with you. The apocalypse presents many dangers, but it also instills immense loneliness in him. He has witnessed human suffering; he knows how fragile mortals can be. And yet he knows that, as terrible as an apocalypse is, it has blessed him with one miracle: you. He won't let you out of his sights. In fact, none of the main four will. You'll always be monitored, whether upfront or in secret. If any harm were to befall you, Malleus would simply char the offender to ash on the spot. You are his most prized treasure in this grim world. He can't let you succumb to any dangers.

- - -

Rollo leads his compound fairly and responsibly. The apocalypse just reaffirms the idea that magic is harmful and dangerous and that all mages are bad, so he grows to hate magic even more than he already does. Despite this, he'll still use magic in some instances if need be. For the most part, the compound (which is essentially Noble Bell's campus and the many buildings that comprise it) is very self-sufficient. It has an advantage with the bell tower, as it's tall enough to overlook the ruined City of Flowers and what lies beyond. He'll utilize this structure as a lookout tower.

Despite the fact that he may come off as cold or unapproachable, Rollo won't turn those away from the compound unless he knows they're infected or are dangerous. He expects everyone to view him as a leader worthy of this position, and anyone who tries to go against his word will either be severely gaslit into believing otherwise or are simply never heard from again. Rollo doesn't have time to deal with insignificant pests who want to challenge his authority, so if you wish to be difficult you can take yourself and your difficulties down to the dungeons that reside underground. Punishments and interrogations are usually carried out there, far from any prying eyes so that the peace of the compound won't be disturbed. Rollo oversees everything that happens within cold, concrete walls, and he does not show any mercy to those who are traitors or spies.

Rollo will offer you protection and sanctuary when you find yourself at the compound's gates. So long as you aren't here for nefarious purposes and you aren't infected, he'll welcome you warmly. Rollo actually keeps a watchful eye on newcomers just to ensure they aren't a threat to the society within the compound. He'll give you a tour of the grounds, informing you of where everything is and it's purpose. He wants everyone to feel comfortable here despite the horrors that exist outside, so he'll do what he can to make everyone's stay tolerable. He quickly grows to like you, especially when you offer to help in any way that you can so that you can pay him back for saving you, which means you usually trail after him or deliberately seek him out looking for ways to be useful. Rollo likes that word—saving. He likes the idea of being your savior, of being the only one in this disastrous world who can offer you salvation, and since you claim you want to be useful he can think of plenty of ways you can put yourself to use.

Rollo won't ask for much. In fact, he's very sweet. You might not think so if you see villainous sides of him, but romance is hard to come by in an apocalypse. He'll give you two options: stay with him in the safety of this perfect sanctuary, or throw yourself under a deity's microscope in the outside world and hope that whatever may exist in the clouds above takes pity on your tainted soul. If you know what's best for you, you'll choose him. It's not like he's really giving you much of a choice in this matter anyway.

[the-apocrypha]

Hello!

I've had a brain worm about your cottagecore verse stuck in my head for a month now, so I'm finally sharing it.

The mob that stormed Hob's cottage in Eskham didn't come out of nowhere. Someone has been spreading rumours about a dangerous creature in the hedgewitch's cabin for some time. Someone who doesn't particularly like their older brother. Desire knew that they would have to stoke the tension in the village carefully, so that when the villagers' fear got the better of them, Dream would not be there to save Hob. They knew very well that even armed with torches and iron, a mob of peasants wouldn't stand a chance against a fae prince. That didn't matter though - Desire didn't need the mortals to hurt their brother directly; he just needed to be taught a lesson about taking human lovers. Getting banished from the realm of the fae just wasn't enough. 

What Desire didn't expect was to be on the recieving end of a similar fate as their brother - turns out that Mother Night does not approve of her children taking human consorts, even if that child might excel at cruel games and bargains. Long story short, when Desire falls in love with a travelling sorceress named Unity, they are yeeted out from their mother's court much like Dream was.

I think it would be funny if Desire ended up getting tossed into Hob's garden while Dream is away doing fae things™️ in the forest. At first Hob panics (understandably, they aren't really expecting visitors in the middle of nowhere), but once he recognises that the being currently squishing his strawberries is another fae, he brings them inside (does he hope that seeing another of his kind might make Dream happy? Maybe. Think of it as enrichment for your lover). Needless to say, Dream isn't exactly thrilled to see his sibling, especially when they let slip that they're rather surprised to find them both alive and (relatively) well. Oopsie, your sibling might have had something to do with your recent troubles, Dream (who would have thought).

I'm hoping for some sort of reconciliation and some reflection from Desire? Maybe being shunned by their kind might help them reconnect. After all, Desire's gonna need all the help they can get if they are to find their beloved out there...

OMG I love this so much, thank you for sharing this glorious brain worm! I love the idea that Desire is out in the mortal realm doing market research for plotting his brother’s downfall and in the process meets Unity and—I’m imagining it wasn’t quite so Love At First Sight, because sorceress!Unity definitely knows better than to tangle with the fae and wants nothing to do with any of Desire’s shit. (Desire’s always liked a challenge.) But eventually, somehow, despite both of their better judgements, the love does happen. 

Also love the idea of Desire getting dumped into the (Dream’s! Special!) strawberry patch—they’re probably not looking too hot, ala Dream when he was first exiled. Hob absolutely takes them into the house as soon as he sees the ears. He’s learned to be wary of his fellow mortals but he’s still a sucker for fae, especially ones who bear a familial resemblance to his lover, and especially ones who are all alone 😩 and hurt 😩. (Dream obviously is unimpressed with all of this, but Hob is at this point well-practiced in tuning out Dream’s Are You Trying To Get Yourself Killed, I Don’t Care That You Survived Thirty-Three Years Without Me, You Won’t Be Surviving The Next Five Minutes If You Don’t Start Apologizing, You Useless Fragile Mortal Tirade).

Also! The idea of Dream and Desire hissing faeish insults at each other over the dinner table while Hob is desperately trying to steer the conversation back to English—hysterical. Dream getting possessive of Hob when Desire looks at him a few seconds too long, and Desire being like “I absolutely do not want your grubby little bear-man, Dream, calm your tits. Unlike you, I have standards.”—excellent. I love it all. 

(Though let’s be real, in this particular AU the moment Dream finds out Desire was the reason that Hob got shishkebabed, this goes from a family feud to attempted murder real quick. IDK if Dream would get over that for… at least a few decades. Desire would be turfed out of the house so fast their head would spin. Their only saving grace might be if Hob suggests that the faster they find Unity, the faster Desire will be out of their hair.) 

I’ll be honest, the possibilities for fae!Dream + siblings are limitless and wonderful, and I’m constantly sad that the cottagecore ‘verse ended up constructed in a way that means—without some very exceptional circumstances, as you have crafted here—we won’t ever really see Dream interacting with his family ever again. At least, not in the official version. Please feel free to tell me all about the elaborate ways in which fae!Dream and Desire get forced into a metaphorical Get Along Shirt, or Death dropping by with little fae care packages with all the stuff Dream misses from his home, or Delirium going on forest walks with Dream and asking him ten million questions about all the strange mortal animals and plants. Dream deserves better relationships with his siblings than what I dealt him in this ‘verse. <3

[gerec]

SPACE AUS - PART 2

The Edge of What Doesn’t End by populuxe

When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.

burn the land and boil the sea by kaydeefalls (series)

In which the Unification War begins, Erik leads the Browncoats' mutant faction, and Charles searches for something worth fighting for. (Fusion with the Firefly 'verse)

Remind me what you're looking for by pearl_o

"There's a dozen ships here you could get transport on," Erik points out.

"I'm asking you," Charles says.

A Beginner's Guide to Star-Forming Event Horizons by midrashic

Charles Xavier is not thrilled to be on the USSAS Magneto, with its missions to the back-end of nowhere and its captain who is famous for having violated the Prime Directive. But appearances can be deceiving.

And we pulled each other like gravity by hllfire

Erik accompanies Charles, Crown Prince of the Xavier Empire, to his first diplomatic meeting on the planet Themis, where he finds out something about the Prince and they end up talking about the past and how their paths had crossed before.

The Sleeping Beauty in the Ivory Tower (- or Erik Lehnsherr is a hopeless romantic) by ximeria

There is a tale, out among the stars, of a sleeping beauty in an ivory tower.

Infinite Distance by lachatblanche

When they encounter an unfamiliar and seemingly-abandoned ship in the middle of nowhere in space, Captain Charles Xavier of the spaceship Graymalkin heads out to investigate.

Infinite Distance (Finite Time Remix) by SlightWeasel

A month ago, far-flung Genosha went dark on every communications channel.

Whatever happened there, it has little enough relevance for young Charles Xavier, resident of Graymalkin-- until the day he receives a distress call from Erik Lehnsherr, Genosha's only surviving citizen...

Pit stop by diner_drama

Charles was pretty happy with his lot, on the whole. As chief engineer, he spent the majority of his time teaching hot-shot new mechanics and aspiring ship-builders. He could confidently say that he had created an excellent work environment that really allowed these young workers to flourish and grow. The only real challenges, apart from the occasional Very Large Fire (bad) and having to fill in his yearly expense reports (catastrophic), were arrogant pilots who believed that the importance of their ship gave them carte blanche to treat the repair crew like garbage.

Case in point, Erik Fucking Lehnsherr.

Yes, he was the best racing pilot in the galaxy. Yes, he had designed his ship personally and it was fundamentally perfect in every important way. Yes, his steely blue eyes made Charles feel light-headed whenever they came up on his viewscreen.

He was still an asshole.

Neither Rhyme Nor Reason by unveiled

Charles liked to tell people that the first time they met, Serik punched a kitten. (Or, the one where Erik is an angry Vulcan, Charles is still a telepath, and grief still shapes their lives.)

A Vision of Peace by Gerec

They call his people 'monsters' and say that a telepath is incapable of something as universal as falling in love.

But they're wrong about Charles Xavier, heir to the throne of Cerellia; for everything he does in life, he does for love.

It's Magic! (A Gift Remix) by Gerec 

The Oracle agrees to help Erik locate Shaw, if Erik agrees to return to him after the mission.

And now that the deed is done, it's time to keep his promise.

Flirting with Death (Eternal Remix) by Gerec 

Erik Lehnsherr is the latest in a long line of vampire hunters, their legacy going back a thousand years to the days before space travel and the existence of life beyond Earth. He's tracking one of the most dangerous blood-drinkers they've ever known, and he's determined to save the man she's targeted as her next victim.

Now if he could only convince Xavier that his life is in very real danger...

SPACE AUS - PART 1

[morporkian-cryptid]

Something I really like with The Mountain Goats is that a lot of songs are at first very cryptic, or seem a bit boring because they’re very descriptive and factual; until somewhere around the end, one line suddenly puts everything else into perspective, and the meaning of the song punches you in the gut.

Take “Picture of my dress" for example. The whole song follows a woman’s road trip, in a very mundane and descriptive way: a truck stop parking lot, smoking a cigarette with a stranger, a greasy sandwich in a diner, listening to the radio. And taking a picture of her dress. Why is she taking a picture of her dress? We don’t know, we can only follow her on this road trip, watching in from the outside and getting no context.

Right up until “I only wore it once, nine years ago”.

There’s only one kind of dress you would only wear once and then keep for a long time. A wedding dress.

And suddenly everything else makes so much more sense. She just got divorced. She’s running away from her old life, from the memories; or she’s looking for something. Trying to put into perspective the decision she made nine years ago; trying to find what the old her saw in that dress, in that marriage; or trying to find something she had back then and has lost since. The road trip is the path to healing, with ups and downs and mundane days and painful reminiscing and trying to see the good in the past too.

The last verse of the song gives more explanation about her goal, but you still wouldn’t really understand it without the “it’s a wedding dress” line. I’m gonna quote the end of the song; I have nothing to add about it, but I find it absolutely gorgeous and it lives rent-free in my head.

But I say some prayers above the engine I bless everything there is to bless Run out of gas in the middle of nowhere anyway Stand by the roadside smiling

This is something I noticed more recently when listening to older songs, specifically “No I can’t” from Bitter Melon Farm. It’s a very formulaic, repetitive song: You brought me this, and that, and this, thank you for this, and that, and this, now I have everything I need. Repeat and fill in the blanks with increasingly expensive objects.

At first I thought that “Now I have everything I need” was sarcastic. Like “oh wow thank you for this gift you are so thoughtful I don’t know how I could have lived my whole life without it – oh wait I did and it was completely fine”, like, who are you to know what I need. What am I gonna do with all this useless stuff.

Until “Thank you for the coat I forgot to mention; I’ve been freezing in here, I’ve been freezing in here”.

It’s not so much the words themselves rather than the way they are sung, with both despair and realization. I don’t know if this is what the song really means, but this is what I understand from the way this line reframes the rest. This is someone who is learning to live again. Someone who doesn’t know how to take care of themselves and has been surviving on the bare minimum for so long they never realized they might need or even want more. Someone who loves them is bringing them gifts – first just polite ones: candies and flowers; then useful ones: a sofa, a lamp, a filing cabinet; then entertaining ones: a puppy, books, a radio. Each time the narrator thanks them as if following a script, not really knowing what to say, and concludes that they nowhave everything they need. And every time the other person gives them something else, and now the narrator has everything they need, because they realize they were missing this thing they just received. This other person is trying to fill the narrator’s life with things that will make their life easier, more enjoyable. The small joys and the small helps that make life more than just surviving.

The last gift is a friendly presence, and a realization. The friend comes to visit, and lets the wind in, and reminds the narrator of the cold – they don’t have to stand there in this cold apartment, freezing, they can put a coat on. And that’s when the narrator realizes they were freezing. They hadn’t noticed before, because they don’t pay attention to their needs, they just make do with what they have without even considering that things could be better. This realization is the first step in healing. And the friend doesn’t push or tell them explicitly what they need. The friend just gives them things to help them, asking nothing in return and letting them slowly realize for themself that yes, this is useful, this is helpful, this is comforting, I needed this. I may need more. I can have more. My life can be better. Even small things help.

And I find it absolutely amazing how TMG can pack so much into such a simple and seemingly nonsensical song.

[gerrystamour]

AO3★Main

Updated July 9, 2024 - PENDING FURTHER UPDATES

★At A Glance★

Transmasculine Steve Harrington★#TransmascSteve.

Good Boy Eddie Munson★#GoodBoyEddie.

OC Fics★#gerry.oc

Newest: feel the lives that i have taken★E★OMC Ship★2.2k

Greatest Hit: i could be honest, i could be human★E★48k

Writer's Fave: here i have found some peace of mind★E★60k

★Full Fic List★

title★rating★pairing★word count★ao3 link

Stranger Things

i could become the silver bullet in your head icbh, icbh!verse

i could be honest, i could be human★E★steddie★48k★Ao3

i can't tell where you end and where i start★E★steve/omc, steddie★11k★Ao3

because no one can break my heart like i can★E★steddie★2.4k★ Ao3

we were tangled up like branches in a flood★M★steddie★2.3k★Ao3

at the sunrise the stones and stars align [Transmasc!Steve] peace of mind, pom!verse

here i have found some peace of mind★E★steddie★60k★Ao3

bite through these wires [Transmasc!Steve] strap!verse

grow back your sharpest teeth★E★steddie★5.6k★Ao3

you leave me with that grace★E★steddie★2.4k★Ao3

push down into membranes and layers★E★steddie★4.1k★Ao3

Steve Thot Jobs thot jobs

when heaven falls, i will be your light★E★steddie★876★Ao3

just one more drink, please come inside★E★steddie★1.4k★Ao3

i've got a ghost in the hallway grinning...

run it back (give me five whole minutes)★T★steddie★1.7k★Ao3

i am thick tar on the inside burning★G★steddie★1.6k★Ao3

Stranger Things

nothing to say, and nowhere to go★E★steddie★1.9k★Ao3

so touch me again...★E★steddie★1.2k★Ao3

won't you come and dance in the dark with me?★T★steddie★2.9k★Ao3

i know you've got a taste, so...★E★steddie★2k★Ao3

would you find me in the stars?★T★steddie★1.2k★Ao3

suspended in the ether★E★steddie★7.4k+★Ao3

cut the lights and make me your oblivion★E★steddie★2.2k★Ao3

be the first to the feast...★E★steddie★2.1k★Ao3

that's the kind of love...★E★steddie★2.7k+★Ao3

you're in the walls that i made...★E★steddie★7.6k★Ao3

the fire is so delightful★E★steddie★5.5k★Ao3

Stranger Things

"Can I sit here...?"★G★steddie★Modern!AU★854★Ao3

"I'm not going to stop poking you..."★G★steddie★Pre-Steddie★679★Ao3

"When I picture myself happy..."★G★steddie★Getting together★1.1k★Ao3

i belong to all of your mysteries★E★steddie★Transmasc Steve★442★Ao3

our hearts are racing, captivated★E★steddie★PWP★311★Ao3

nice.★E★PWP★69★Ao3

"What did you do this time?"★T★Jeff/Eddie

"I almost lost you."★T★Jeff/Eddie

but whisper your love...★G★steddie★Modern!AU★392★Ao3

Stranger Things

"If we weren't in public..."★T★Tig/Gareth★pom!verse

"How have you survived this long..."★E★Freak/Dom★pom!verse

"There is no way this much stupid..."★T★Tig/Gareth★pom!verse

"God, I love you."★T★Charlie/Roger★pom!verse

"Tell me again..."★E★Charlie/Roger★pom!verse

"I've been thinking about you..."★T★Charlie/Roger★pom!verse

"Please, never stop smiling."★G★Charlie/Eric★pom!verse

"Don't be shy..."★E★Tig/Gareth★pom!verse

"Let me do this. Please."★M★Vinny/Kez★Mafia!AU

"You need to wake up..."★T★Vinny/Kez★Mafia!AU

on and on...★T★Sam/Dom★Mafia!AU

you are my destroyer★E★Sam/Dom★Mafia!AU

feel the lives that i have taken★E★Sam/Dom★Pirate!AU

header by @saradika-graphics

section labels by @cafekitsune

[adelaidedrubman]

OC INTERVIEW!

i was tagged by dears @g0dspeeed @cassietrn @direwombat @simplegenius042 @wrathfulrook to do a little oc interview, thank you dears! i decided to do this one for america’s sweetheart verse for acclaimed novelist jestiny ft. her long suffering publicist andrea who was mostly there to make sure there was some accurate information, then i decided to give her own spotlight. on that note, sorry for the length and needless preamble no expectation to read All That

“Ugh.” Jestiny grabs the wall to steady herself from stumbling at Andrea’s quick darting into the doorway to block her exit. “Are you fuckin’ serious? You’re really gonna tell me  — a grown fucking woman — I’m not allowed to go play until I finish my homework?”

“It smells like you’ve gotten to play plenty today,” Andrea retorts with a nod towards the disposable coffee cup clenched in Jestiny’s fist and reeking with the unmistakable stench of high proof whiskey. “You’ve put off doing a simple introductory questionnaire for three months now. You’re never going to hire a ghostwriter if you can’t respond to an information request that takes five minutes.”

“I don’t need a ghostwriter,” she mumbles in protest as she takes a sip from her coffee cup that has never once contained coffee, or fooled anyone into thinking it did. “Just a copy editor.”

“Three copy editors have quit because you started using them as ghostwriters. And whatever job title you want to give them, they need some basic biographical information about you to work on your memoir.”

“See, that’s the thing, is no they don’t. Not with the kinda thing I’m writing. It’s all just empty fluff, don’t you —”

“Even for empty fluff, they need a vague skeleton,” Andrea snaps. She pulls Jestiny by the arm towards her desk, pushing her down into one of her guest chairs before taking her seat behind it and clicking a pen. “I canceled the car you called and changed the passwords to all your rideshare accounts. And we both know you couldn’t make it out of the parking garage without getting a DUI. You’re not going anywhere until this is done.”

“Oh, that’s real fuckin’ nice Andrea,” Jestiny hisses. “Hold hostage the woman who just survived —”

name 

“jestiny ellen rook.”

nickname

“none. nope. never had one. never will have one. gotta say the whole thing every time. flaunt it in front of some motherfuckers who were too fucking dumb to ever figure it out.”

gender

“again, andrea — i am a grown fucking woman.”

star sign

“how the fuck am i supposed to know that shit?”  without bothering to check her birthday, andrea writes down aries.

personality type

“america’s fuckin’ sweetheart, baby. kind, lovable, and humble. what else is there?’’  andrea’s hand moves of its own volition to scrawl out the words ‘dark triad,’ immediately scribbling it out to write down ‘istp’ and ‘8w7.’

height

“five foot five, ballpark.”  andrea gives jestiny a skeptical look.  “maybe closer to five-six, camera adds a half-inch.”   andrea, actually 5’6, sighs and writes down 5’4, covering it with her hand to hide from jestiny.

orientation:

“c’mon, you don’t really have to ask that.” andrea dwells unwillingly on the menagerie of half-dressed strangers milling about jestiny’s home every time she steps into it. no, she doesn’t.  “or lie to the press about it, if that’s what you’re dancing around. it���s 2018! america’s sweetheart can be openly bisexual, right?” 

nationality/ethnicity:

“again. america’s fucking sweetheart, baby.”

fave fruit 

“persimmons. don’t put that down, though, that information is for the fuckin’ benefit of your files, so you can get me a halfway decent fruit tray in my dressing room next talk show appearance. write some bullshit about how much i miss the fresh picked huckleberries of hope county and nowhere grows ’em better, or something.”

fave season

“awards! ha, we do have fun. gotta be fall, though. salmon run season. but pretend it’s for the sake of pumpkin spice whatever.”

fave flower 

“psh. whatever happens to be in the bouquets i receive from my adoring fans. but if i have to pick, i guess, uh… forget-me-nots, maybe. or — heh, or cockscomb.”

fave scent 

“whiskey.”  andrea looks between jestiny and her cup, wondering if she has told the truth for the first time.  “coffee, i mean.”

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: 

“i just said —”

average hours of sleep: 

“eh, who can really keep track of that?” people who have to plan their sleep schedule around preventing jestiny from having unsupervised access to social media can and must keep track of that. andrea writes down 3 hours.

dog or cat person

“ew. no. opossums. but write down dog, that probably polls better. andrea, should i get a dog?”   andrea vigorously shakes her head in the negative as she dutifully writes down dog. 

dream trip 

“heh. where do you have me booked for next? checked off a lotta the bucket list already. you’re looking at a dollywood gold pass holder. finally got to go there after a lifetime of dreaming, and it was —”  andrea notes the way jestiny’s eyes suddenly glaze over, her gaze growing hollow and flat as she pauses in searching.  “great. fulfilling. worth the wait. always ready to go back, or onto the next adventure. i mean, it’s such a fucking blessing, don’t you think?” andrea doesn’t answer, looking on with some concern as a hint of earnest joy creeps back into jestiny’s smile. “to have one’s full constitutional right to freedom of movement completely fuckin’ unrestricted?”

favorite fictional/real character

“uh, shrek.”

number of blankets you sleep with? 

“as many as i want, baby! that’s another benefit of freedom, don’t have to settle for a single scratchy, paper thin excuse for a blanket to curl up on my cot with. i get to enjoy my forty-winks on silk sheets and soft as a cloud comforter, on my casper mattress —”

random fact:

“i know how to do a bit of sleight of hand magic.” andrea feels a light brush at her ear, and looks to see jestiny pulling from behind it a matchbook with the number of a taxi company stamped in bright yellow.  “and for my next trick, i’m going to disappear.”

Andrea sighs as she watches Jestiny march out of her office yelling pick-up orders into her cellphone. It was successful for longer than she would have expected, she thinks, tapping the end of her pen against her bottom lip. 

She clicks her pen a few times as she shuffles the papers on her desk, staring down at a blank copy of the questionnaire she’d made in case Jestiny was in foul enough spirits to rip up the first in defiance. 

It would be nice, to have someone ask her things about who she was for once, she thinks, in an indulgent flight of fancy.  

name: 

“andrea simmons.”

nickname: 

“...anal-retentive goldilocks, was the most recent one.”

gender

“woman, she/her.”

star sign

“capricorn.” 

personality type

“estj. 3w2.’’ 

height

“five foot six. empirically verified.” 

orientation:

“lesbian, last i had enough free time to check.”

nationality/ethnicity:

“american. primarily german and scandinavian ancestry.”

fave fruit 

“nectarine, left to my own devices. learning to appreciate leftover cantaloupe picked around on fruit plates.”

fave season:

“summer. warm, sunny, long days.”

fave flower: 

“orchids.”

fave scent 

“lavender, jasmine, eucalyptus.” 

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: 

“coffee. at least three shots of espresso. oat milk. two pumps of hazelnut syrup, no sugar.”

average hours of sleep: 

“three. when you have an infant, you learn to sleep when they sleep.”

dog or cat person

“cats. otto curled up in my lap at the end of a long day is the only thing that keeps me going, sometimes.” 

dream trip 

“any trip. any trip alone. any trip alone without having to worry about what i will find when i come back. greece would be nice, i think.” 

favorite fictional/real character

“peggy olson.”

number of blankets you sleep with? 

“i have a weighted blanket and a quilt at home. and a fleece throw on my office couch that gets more use.”

random fact: 

“i considered going into politics, and interned on a few campaign teams during college. There are many days i regret not following through on that.” 

i know i’m super late to this, so major apologies for repetitive tags and extra no pressure out to the usuals @belorage @hctknives @fourlittleseedlings @galaxycunt @lordundying @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @miyabilicious @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @professorpineapple @strangefable @shallow-gravy @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano @socially-awkward-skeleton opt in for tags on writing stuff here!

[berylbled]

⋆ ๋࣭ ⭑✧ [ VERSE INFO: PATH TO NOWHERE ] ✧ ⋆ ๋࣭ ⭑ 

TO SURVIVE, YOU, TOO, WOULD SACRIFICE.

SINNER || LIMBO || ARCANE

Beryl is known as the Saintess, so how could it be that she is a Sinner? But she supposes the profane and the divine have always come hand in hand. And no great miracle has ever been wrought without a great cost. 

Perhaps that great cost is something in her blood, the strange crystallization that her body undergoes even now. All she had wanted was a miracle for herself, salvation for the Saint, a way to rid herself of such accursed blood. To do that, she must know more. So why not make miracles for others as a way to pass time? She wanders between Eastside and Syndicate, curing any ailment for those that seek her–at the cost of the patient’s life. 

It’s an acceptable loss, a necessary cost, as every death brings her closer to understanding, closer to being able to rid herself of the ailment that will surely end her life. But due to the high number of casualties, it became a priority to detain her. And that’s how the MBCC acquired the so-called Saint. 

Ability Summary:

Blood crystallizes within and outside of the body, both autonomously and at will. Blood crystallization results in healing effects that will eventually result in taking the subject's life. Only the Sinner (and other Sinners) is immune to this effect, suggesting that the tolerance for the healing effects to occur without inducing death remains in a narrow therapeutic range based on M-value.

verse tag

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Renegades: RC9GN Infection AU

TW // FLASHING LIGHTS GIF

Good timezone, my lovelies~

So- if anyone remembers my infection AU for RC9GN, I decided to write a little more for that verse! Fair warning: this one might be a little more intense, please be advised before I continue.

Now if anyone remembers the first post I did, the infection comes from an advanced form of the power from the Sorcerer's pearls- once an individual becomes fully infected, they're permanently stuck as stanked monsters and will infect others through contact (saliva for instance- upon being bitten). The story begins when the Ninja is facing off a stanked victim, only to realize they're not turning back and everything gets gradually worse from there.

Pre-Lore Information // Reader Discretion Advised

As mentioned from the original post, the Ninja - Randy Cunningham - was facing off a stanked victim; to his horror however, the stank was not leaving- the victim themself was growing more and more agitated. If anything, it was like dealing with a feral animal, something rabid and certainly not-human. Norrisville High School erupted into chaos. What were they meant to do when even their protector couldn't do anything about it?

Though, it all fell apart from there-

In an attempt to flee from the stanked monster victim, the Ninja was injured; left weaked, he and Howard Weinerman were forced to flee, leaving the city temporarily defenseless. There was nothing to be done.

With the Ninja missing, Norrisville was left to their own devices.

Randy was weak, injured- he hadn't been able to protect them. Leaving Howard to care for him, they eventually ran into Julian which led to an untimely alliance; the trio didn't have a choice but to lay low in an effort to come up with a plan.

Unfortunately for them, nothing would ever be the same again.

TW // Implied/Referenced Gore

Norrisville was slowly becoming overrun with the monsters- they hadn't ever seen anything like this before, and the Ninja was gone; had he been killed? Was there no hope left for them anymore?

The monsters were rabid- like wild creatures lost in their own minds, unable to return to their normal selves. Their eyes were red; pupils looking almost scratched, tainted. Like beasts. A green substance would drip from their maw- a sickly neon green and their body disheveled more. They were quick, almost guided by scent above all else.

Seeing little choice, survivors attempted to flee. They took refuge in secluded areas but others? Well, they dared to fight; believing they couldn't stand by doing nothing else, they armed themselves and decided to take on the monsters, no matter who it was. (they just weren't human anymore)

The boys - Howard, Julian, and Randy - found a cabin; at least then, it would give Randy the time to rest and recover before facing the damage left behind. Norrisville was akin to a wasteland now, and nowhere was safe. Not really.

(They were completely cut off- there was no way to contact anyone. All they had to do was survive)

The guilt was beginning to eat Randy alive- he was stressed and tense, and he began avoiding the nomicon. He couldn't deal with the fact he wasn't able to stop it. He was the Ninja, so then why- why had this happened?

Howard was frustrated, attempting to keep firm that the Ninja would help them.

Julian could only watch, offering support from the sidelines. He hoped it would be enough, but as their resources began getting smaller- they knew a choice would have to be made.

Either they stayed there, as if there was anything left to save- or they had to fight.

Though as it turned out, they weren't the only ones stuck in a rut.

Some ways ahead, the girls - Heidi, Debbie, and Theresa - were seeking refuge in the remains of the school. Debbie was certain if Heidi could simply broadcast a message, eventually someone would come get them. There were monsters. Once their classmates, and now they were something else- and even adults fell victim to the stank.

Unfortunately, their communication was almost entirely cut off.

(No one seemed to be coming)

They were on their own. Debbie took charge as the leader and Heidi was hoping from some news to reach about Howard- even with being siblings, she needed to know he was safe, alive. Theresa, of course, maintained the hope that the Ninja would come.

Even when Debbie attempted to tell her that it was possible this was entirely out of the Ninja's control.

They were completely doomed.

Or so it would seem.

Tag System

renegades au / rc9gn infection au - main tag

renegade fowlham - ship tag for the infection au

[dailydragon08]

Avalanche

Pairings: Will “Ironhead” Miller x DeltaForce!Reader (gender neutral) Warnings: descriptions of canon-typical violence (a stab wound), cursing, and mentions of cocaine. Summary: Will you and the rest of the team survive the infamous helicopter crash, and how far will Will’s over-protectiveness go? A/N: let me know if you’d be interested in this becoming a series/more fics in this verse!

*

The steady whump-whump-whump of the helicopter’s blades almost lulled you to sleep. You glanced out the window at the snow-capped mountains before returning your attention to the others. Frankie and Tom sat in the cockpit while Santi and Benny settled against the bench seats. Will was stretched out between you and Benny, his back leaning against the wall awkwardly. 

You watched as Pope stood and made his way to the cockpit before letting your headset fall around your shoulders to give your ears a break. You blew out a harsh, slow breath and let your head fall against the wall while Benny followed Pope. A little grunt escaped you as Fish raised your altitude and your ears popped. 

Will took his headset off his ears and leaned his back against your shoulder, turning so his mouth was directly in front of your ear. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Ears are just popping.”

“Mine, too.” He rotated more to look at you and you could feel yourself drowning in his baby blues. He stared back with just as much intensity and something unspoken passed between you like it always did. You and Will had always been the most similar out of the group. It had created a bond between you that felt different than your relationship with the others. You two could read each other with just a look—something you’d been able to do since you’d first met when you both joined Delta Force. He’d been the only one who hadn’t immediately doubted your skills because of your smaller frame and youth and always treated you like the accomplished, capable soldier you were. You’d saved his neck multiple times, just like he’d saved yours. After retiring, you’d stayed in the same town and became practically inseparable. Even through failed relationships, fights, and PTSD episodes, you were there thick and thin. 

You hadn’t realized precisely what shape your friendship took in the center of your chest until a few hours ago when Will’s strained voice called, “I’ve been hit.” The red that tinted his hands had your heart trying to scramble out of your throat and the first words in your mind were I love you. Now a war waged in your head over whether to say something before you really did lose him and knowing this was nowhere near the opportune moment.

“How’s your side?” you asked, returning to the moment. You had to shout in his ear to be heard over the noise of the chopper. 

“I’m okay…How’s your leg?”

You glanced down at your own bloody, bandaged mess. One of Lorea’s men had stabbed you in the leg and although it wasn’t deep, another of his cronies had pushed you over the banister of the stairwell with the first man’s hand still on the hilt. You’d dragged him down with you, but it had also dragged the blade, and he’d nearly skinned half your leg before falling to the floor below. Will had insisted on bandaging it for you and helping you walk. He’d even tried to carry you a few times, but had stopped at your protests as he groaned and stumbled under the weight of both you and his gunshot wound. “Throbbing,” you answered honestly, “but I’ll live.”

“When we land, I wanna look at it. Make sure it isn’t getting infected.”

You nodded and silence fell over the pair of you again. Something had shifted in his gaze—it felt softer, more private. He’d always looked at you affectionately (and earlier, he’d looked at your leg terrified), but this felt…different. You weren’t sure how to describe it and wondered if he felt the same avalanche of feelings you did. There couldn’t have been a worse time to realize you were in love with your best friend, but you felt the weight of it tumble down and bury you too quickly for you to resist. There was a new depth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before that felt like finally finding air after almost drowning and you clung to it. 

Will suddenly swung his legs to the ground and scooted closer to you on the bench. He threw a glance at the cockpit and you followed his gaze. Pope and Benny were still distracted by whatever Fish was telling them. You were about to put your headset back on to see what they were saying when you felt something gently brush against your pinky finger. You glanced at your hand resting on your thigh to see Will’s pinky gently brushing against you. When you risked a look at his eyes, there was a longing and nervousness you’d never seen before and it made your heart flutter. When you didn’t pull away, he let his fingers gently swipe over the back of your hand. You’d watched—and helped—him use crushing strength in missions countless times. His fingers now brushed you like both you and the moment were made of glass that he was desperate not to shatter. 

The desperation in his eyes and the hard clench of his jaw had you gently tangling your fingers with his. Before you could turn your hand to fully hold his, the chopper rattled and shook around you. Frankie bellowed, “Lose the money or we’re all gonna die!”

Pope and Benny rushed towards the back as you and Will stood. 

“We’ll get it!” Will shouted as he pulled the lever to open the back doors. The two of you shoved several duffel bags out the back. Frankie had warned you that there would be a weight problem and while you felt a pang of sadness at seeing the money go, you’d like to return home in one piece with all of your brothers—especially Will. You had a feeling conversations needed to be had after all this was over. 

With the pile of duffel bags cut in half, Pope yelled, “I’ll go check!”

Will ushered you back over to the bench to sit next to him. Benny returned to his spot by his brother’s side as you gripped the handrail. Will gripped his own in one hand, the other hand slung over your torso to hold you in place like a seatbelt, his hand fisting in your shirt as the helicopter suddenly plummeted. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Catfish?!” Will screamed beside you, pulling you closer against his side. His arm bent awkwardly in an attempt to keep you safe and you let your fingers finally tangle with his as your heart pounded in your chest. He squeezed your hand as your world bobbed and tilted with the falling helicopter. 

Frankie screamed something about an external load release you couldn’t fully hear without your headset. “Pull the lever, Ben!” Pope yelled. 

The chopper shifted as the lever came down, but you could still feel it falling. You quickly slipped out of Will’s hold to open the hatch in the floor. You could feel his hand grabbing for you as he yelled, “wait!”

You gave him a reassuring glance as he dropped his arm, looking at you with concern. You grunted with the effort it took to open the trapdoor and felt your stomach drop at the bag still attached to the cable. “It didn’t work!” you yelled. 

After a long moment of listening through the headset, Pope said, “Fish says there’s a manual override on the cargo hook.”

Will seemed to sense that you were about to swing your legs out and launched forward to hold your waist. He pulled you against him with a crushing grip, despite your protests. His concern warmed you, but this was your job, damn it. If this was what him liking you back meant, you weren’t sure if you were a fan of that particular development. 

“Let me through!” Benny demanded as he carefully lowered his legs outside. Will pushed you behind him and gripped his brother’s shirt hard. 

A moment later, you heard the clang of the release and fell back as the chopper surged upwards, free of its ball and chain. You only wished you could get rid of the burden as easily; this job was quickly becoming not worth the risk. 

Will scrambled up from where he’d fallen next to you and reached out to Benny, who had now fallen all the way through the hatch and was barely holding onto the opening with his fingertips. “Benny!”

“I’ve gotta jump!” you heard him call. He screamed as Will called his name again, swiping futilely for him. 

The chopper hit the ground so hard it rattled your teeth before bouncing back up and slamming down again. The world spun in a circle outside the windows, and you grabbed onto the bench from your seat on the floor to steady yourself. Not even a second later, Will was by your side, hauling you against him and burying his face in your neck. You heard his hand slap down on the bench beside you in an attempt to find his footing. You wanted to say something—anything—but the roar of the failing engines, blades, and alarms drowned everything out. 

Just as Will finally made some progress with his feet and began to lift you with him, the whole world tilted with a metallic groan. Will quickly turned so he landed back-first to cushion your fall and held you so tight, you could hardly breathe. You clung to him just as hard as you felt the giant piece of machinery spin in a circle a few more times before the telltale whine of the engines dying and the blades snapping off punctuated the cacophony. 

The ringing in your ears almost drowned out Will’s harsh breath. You were panting just as hard and still clinging to him like a life preserver. You let out a ragged breath before lifting your head to find his eyes. He was bleeding badly from the head and blood trickled down the side of his face. You gently traced the edge of it with your thumb. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. His own hand came up to trace your jaw and you winced at the unexpected sting. When he brought his hand back, there was blood on it as well. “Are you?”

“I think so—”

“Are you two okay?” Pope asked in a rushed breath as he scrambled over to you. 

You both nodded and you took his hand to help you up. Will’s hand stayed clenched around your shirt as you pulled him up. Santi grunted as he yanked the side door open above him and Will took his moment of distraction to tilt his forehead against yours. You released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as you squeezed his fingers. 

“You first,” he said, gesturing to the open door. He bent his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. 

“Your side—”

“I’m okay,” he said in a strained voice. He grunted slightly as he lifted you towards the opening. 

You found purchase and yanked yourself up with your hands, hissing as your injured leg brushed against the doorframe. You carefully lifted yourself to sit on top as Benny pulled a bleary Fish and Tom through the shattered windshield. Donkeys brayed in the small village in the distance as several people climbed onto the net with all your bounty. Your heart physically hurt as the sun flashed off what you assumed were several knives. 

“They’re cutting into the fucking net,” Fish muttered from below as Santi popped up beside you. He laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before sliding down the chopper. 

Will appeared by your side with a grunt and you helped yank him the rest of the way through the door. Surveying the ground below, you weren’t sure how you would make that drop with your leg as it was. Maybe if you rolled to land on your side—

“What’s the plan here?” Santi asked. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Benny cried, rushing forward as Will slid to the ground, landing on his knees hard and holding his hip. 

Benny stared at his brother briefly, hands hovering over him before turning to you and holding out a hand. 

You began to reach for him when Will quickly stood and grabbed Benny’s arm. “Here, let me.” Something passed between them before the younger Miller nodded and turned his attention to Tom. Will held out his arms for you, and you slid forward to slot your waist between them. You laid your hands on his muscled and veined forearms and clenched your teeth in anticipation of the landing to come. 

“I won’t let you fall,” Will said quietly. “Come on.”

You nodded before gingerly sliding down. True to his word, Will caught your waist just a foot off the ground before tenderly lowering you to stand beside him. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hip bones and you let out a shuddery breath as you stared at each other, completely lost. 

“That’s cocaine they’re growing,” Tom’s voice pulled you out of your trance, “so they may have weapons trained on us from there and there.”

“Thanks, Ironhead,” you muttered with a small smile, giving Will a gentle pad on the chest. 

He gave you a grin in return, his eyes soft. “Anything for you, darlin’.”

Your heart fluttered as you turned your focus to Tom’s plan. Since you were both injured, you and Will stayed by the chopper, but he made sure to stick close to your side. You didn’t want to stray too far from his either. Benny and Fish disappeared into the brush while Tom and Santi headed towards the villagers gathered around the net. Black smoke from the crash piled into the air, clouding the blue sky that reminded you so much of Will’s eyes, and you coughed as it infiltrated your lungs. Will gently rubbed your back, letting his hand slide down your shoulder and arm to gently squeeze your hand. You squeezed back and sighed, praying you’d both get home in one piece.

[myrkulsapxstle]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞.

So Ketheric has a Companion verse, because every day I think about those Persuasion rolls and they went nOWHERE-

Ahem. I'm not bitter. Wym?

Anyway. Below the cut.

My thoughts were:

The first "phase" of the fight, goes as planned - as Larian has it currently. Ketheric thinks he too deep in, Aylin appears - he jumps into the colony after putting her in Soul Jail ( again ).

The party follows - insert Big Brain Plans™️ reveal here.

The second phase is where things change - he can actually be persuaded from sacrificing himself to the Brine Pool of Myrkul™️. Ofc. This displeases Myrkul, him being Ketheric's Third Backstab so--

The skeleton appears.

The party still has to fight the Avatar of Myrkul and the Necromites, but with Ketheric as an NPC ally rather than him being the Avatar. Should he survive, he'll be able to be recruited into the party a la Jaheira. He'll hand over his Netherstone even if not - urging the party to tear down the Cult - before the player can either add him to their party or send him to camp like any other companion.

There's also the problem of the Shadow Curse and his body being the anchor that keeps it going, and his whole. Situation. with Aylin & Isobel ( that could possibly result in a Minthara / Halsin-esque ultimatum? ).

How does that even work - him being the anchor of the curse? There's gotta be a way to detach him from it without murdering him, so long as you've done everything else, right-?

Still need to think on that but this is the gist of it :V

[maleficent-cannoli]

Ok well since at least 9 people want to see the lyric progress so far, here we go:

Jean verse:

At fourteen I learned it only hurts more if you fight

So why risk jumping if you know you won’t survive the height?

Locked in the dark, no point in reaching for the sun

No place to hide and nowhere left to run

This ain’t home, but at least I’m not alone

Jeremy verse:

When you’ve shut down, when you’re drowning and afraid

I’ll take your hand and guide you out of the rain

He broke your wings so bad you’ve forgotten how to fly

But you can learn again if we take one day at a time

Follow the light, my sunshine

Jeremy chorus:

Just feel the cool night breeze, see the rainbows, the open roads

I’ll be your friend, I’m on your team, oh let me take you home

Also there’s this bridge I wrote for mixed POV:

The memories (Look in my eyes)

Are haunting me (I’m right by your side)

I can’t sleep (We’ll be alright)

I can’t breathe

Come back to me

I swear it makes more sense when you hear it

Oh and also this mixed POV verse:

Red for love, red for blood, red for rage

Blue for your tshirt, blue for crashing ocean waves

Black for despair, black for violence and shame

Gold for hope, gold for something they can’t break

Grey eyes meet brown, they can’t hurt you now

Now you may be wondering, Vel what are you stuck on? Well, I need a verse to sort of act as a “trigger” for the bridge. I’m also having a hard time finding a way to approach the whole “I deserved it” thing.

Oh and that first Jean verse was originally intended to be referencing Icarus and a fear of flying too close to the sun, or so to speak, and only hurting more if he tried to resist his situation, and while I think I’m getting the message across, I don’t think it’s clear that Icarus is the reference and I’m not sure how to fix it.

[tulipe-rose]

Imagine how ironic, if not hilarious, it would be if yet another ginger took his last breathes while laying between Dazai's arms. I take it to be an interesting scenario multiple accounts attempted writing, and succeeding magnificently at that. I really enjoy reading the bitter tragedy interpreted by dozens of unique perspectives, such that I though I might as well add in my own. (Someone else probably thought of this first, so please don't call me a thief. If you do find a similar opinion, I'd appreciate it if you could politely link the post for me to read.)

Chūya Nakahara. Great Port Mafia executive, and wielder of his infamous gravitational ability; one of the most fearsome abilities out there. Enough to spark terror in the hearts of those whom once dared to oppose him, and survived to witness the light of day by some miracle. Said ability however, doesn't stand alone. The demon Arahabaki, a power that bears great weight on the ginger head's shoulders, occupies the young man's body around the clock. When activated, all sense is lost,and blind rage is left to lead.

Such a devastatingly extraordinary sight, quite fit for the demonic entity.

Finding beauty, or positive significance in such a hazardous display was something unique to the demon prodigy alone.

Chūya never truly resorts to using the Arahabaki demon unless backed into a corner, having complete faith in his partner's capability of halting him when the job was taken care of.

This time was supposedly no different. There occurred a fierce battle on a certain tranquil night, one that'd go down in history. There wasn't much of an option, it was a do or die situation, the stakes being the lives of his comrades. Chūya never hesitated when it came to protecting those whom treated him well, and had a significance in his heart. He'd never abandon them, even if they were to throw him under the bus. He was far too loyal.

Anyhow, Chūya slowly starts reciting the verse he seemed all too familiar with, before slowly descending into a feral state. The battle commences, and it's an utter disaster.

The enemy won't budge, and the corrupted Mafioso would be sent into more of an unintelligible state of madness, desiring destruction.

An issue arises, and that would be the absence of a particular lanky-beanpole, waste if bandages. By now, Dazai would be stepping in to break Chūya free of his corrupted chains, yet he's nowhere to be seen. Hell breaks loose, and the Arahabaki demon inflicts it's final blow.

...

Chūya Nakahara's body would crash to the ground before collapsing. His consciousness returned to him with great strain, and he was aware his last moments were his current. A faint sequence of haggard breathing could be heard. Though not having enough strength to take a glance at them, he knew whom these breathes belonged to. He knew that sound like the back of his hand; they didn't know each other for so long for nothing.

A soft croak escaped his partner, it's goal to grab the bandaged man's attention. The tone of voice was extremely faint and airy, yet Dazai paid undivided attention to every word. "'Agh... Hurts like hell..."

The messy man races over to cradle his partner's body, sensing the consciousness withering away. "Oh Chūya... You..." Dazai repeated to himself more than anything, his face rested into a frown, whispering in a low tone laced with subtle desperation. Regret was evident, and an expression that had been hidden away for far too long adorned his face next; sadness.

Dazai readjusts Chūya's position in his arms, "Now, now, Take it easy." Chūya looks on in mock irritation, before coughing up a handful of blood, causing him to recoil in exhaustion. "Damn it... This is probably it for me... Though I had no idea waking up was an possible... I'm... saying this only once... .. Don't you dare die, you damned Mackerel... That weretiger needs you..." Dazai looked on in muted horror, anxiety, strong denial and sorrow. The moment he never assumd to come, the one that he had happily dreamt of; it's here, and Dazai couldn't help but feel helpless. He held Chūya tighter, never daring to interrupt. "Ane-san..." His speech was sluggish, and his breathing patterns were inconsistent. Most of his words came out incoherent, and much was left unsaid, but Dazai knew what was to be done.

''AUGHHGU..." Pools of blood spewed out, staining his clothes further, his consciousness blacking in and out. "Ugh... I wasn't expecting it to be peaceful anyway... You- know... What to do... So I'll leave it to you..."

Abrupt silence hit, and the ginger's body went limp; embracing a long overdue rest.

The brunette gave his partner a melancholic look, clutching onto the small statured corpse gracefully lumped in his hold.

〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

(I kind of hate how it turned out ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡. Whatever--, moving on with life.

I personally view this as platonic soulmates/Friendship where bonds go deeper than blood/complicated siblings????(Not really), please don't judge me ＼⁠(ﾟ⁠ｰﾟ⁠＼⁠))