#There are no unkillable thrills

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Ozzy Osbourne - I Just Want You

[impossible-rat-babies]

oh warrior my beloved tank they could never make me hate u <3

[berensteinsmonster]

Henry Ventriloquest, mirror reflection of Henry Stickmin

(reblogs help my posts be seen :)

Resident SILLIEST guy, a clever little trickster, one of Capt. Bailfalse's three evil henchmen, somehow everybody's friend, improbably reality bending funny man, and well known unkillable immortal. He's very aware of all these facts and is just living life to it's fullest, for the entertainment of himself of course.

My favourite thing is to talk abt VQ's opposite-ness to Sticks so here I goooo-! Primary details include the fact its color motif is orange, opposite to Sticks' associated blue. He's more sociable and talkative. And what else uhh oh yeah he literally CANNOT DIE how could he this toon runs on slapstick. It could be turned to ash or squashed by a truck and he'd still come out fine (with birds spinning around his head or perfectly okay, whichever he finds funnier as a result).

Misc details include: Since Sticks is animated by Flash, the opposite of that would be something hand drawn, which is (In-Universe) where VQ originated from. And Stickmin being mostly recognized for his eye design, so Ventriloquest has a misaligned eye condition. Both still function, but his left eye isn't as good as his right. He's learned to live with this disability ever since he was created.

//AN: When I talk about his origins, I can only speak about his disability using research. Feel free to send me any corrections about Strabismus because I really do want to keep this part of his character. He may act silly but he doesn't have misaligned eyes for that reason, he is just playing god which is unrelated

But he also works as Stickmin's reflection, just a silly guy here for the thrills with inguity to get themselves out of trouble. How they both don't care too hard about the consequences until it devastatingly affects them! — but that's hv au plot development for next time.

He plays the role that RHM would have, just being a powerhouse that can whip HRM's hiney at any given point. But the difference here is that Henry V is alot more affectionate and giddy during these beat down that he considers as playing, and is cartoonishly violent instead of lethally violent. RHM causes destruction as a means to an end, but Ventriloquest causes destruction because he loves it. He's a force of discordance....For the funny.

And if you ever cross or make fun of him he'll drop an anvil on your skull ^_^

[nomie-11]

Chapter 11 - The Awakening of a Life Weaver

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The sun is bright and welcoming, a warm breeze lifts her hair. 

An older woman is standing in front of her, a red poppy in her hand. Her smile is familiar, her laugh is contagious, and as Genevieve looks at her, she can see that the woman in front of her looks like her too. 

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She moves to take a step forward, but with each step, the woman takes another step back. 

They’re in a field of flowers. The flowers are soft and the grass is lush, while the mountains roll behind them. Snow covered peaks give way to the spring streams, and the green dress the woman wears is covered in white lilies. 

The woman opens her mouth, and speaks. “Wake up,” She says, but Genevieve nods her head no. She can’t respond, but she never wants to leave. She’s home. “Wake up.” She says again. 

Genevieve’s voice returns to her. “Mother,” she whispers, reaching out to the woman in front of her. “I don’t want to wake up.” 

Her mother opens her mouth once more, but the voice that comes out is no longer hers. 

“WAKE!” The voice bellows. It’s Tairn. 

But why is he here? Genevieve looks at her hands, and she knows that she is young. Far too young to even know about the possibility of her bonding a dragon. But then her hands are red, covered in blood, and the voice screams out once more. 

“Wake before you die!” The mountains rumble, and suddenly her mother’s green dress is covered in blood. “Now!”

Her eyes fly open, and she gasps as the last remnants of the dream disintegrates. She’s not in a field of flowers, she’s in her room in-

“Move!” Tairn bellows, and Genevieve shoots out of bed, her hand stealing the dagger from under her pillow as she moves. 

“Fuck! She’s awake!” Moonlight reflects over a sword that is now impaled into the bed where Genevieve once lay. She stumbles, her movements still clouded by sleep. As her knees hit the floor, she unsheathes another dagger from under her mattress. 

She scans the room from her point on the floor, blowing the now grown out hair from her eyes. Her eyes meet the eyes of the unbounded first-year, but he’s not the only one. There are seven cadets in her room. There are four men, three women. 

The door slams behind a girl as she runs out of the room. It clicks in Genevieve’s mind, she’s the one who opened the door. 

The rest are all armed, all determined to kill an unkillable rider. Her hand tightens around the hilt of her daggers and her heart rate skyrockets. 

“This was a stupid mistake,” Genevieve says, her eyes glistening with the thrill of the kill. “Guess it won’t do much good to ask you to leave nicely?” 

“Get away from the wall! Don’t let them trap you!” Tairn’s echoing, commanding voice resonates within her. She moves, but there isn’t much room for her to move. 

“Damn it! I told you she was fast!” Oren hisses from the other side of the room, blocking Genevieve’s exit. 

“Violet should have killed you during Threshing,” Genevieve barks, her voice loud and commanding. She knows that if her voice is loud enough, someone will hear, Liam is just across—

A woman lunges for her, and she dodges, sliding along the icy pane of her window. The window!

“It’s too high. You’ll fall to the ravine and I cannot get there fast enough!” 

“No window. Got it.” Another woman throws her knife, rending the fabric of Genevieve’s nightshirt sleazes as it lodges in her armoire, but she misses her actual flesh. She spins, ripping the rest of the sleeve off, lunging her own hands towards the girl. 

  The hit lands, her dagger plunges down into the torso of the girl, and a surge of adrenaline. 

The girl collapses to the floor, her weight trapping Genevieve, and her body feels as if she was dead. Scrambling out from under her, Genevieve’s breathing is ragged. 

“Fuck! You have to go for her throat!” Oren shouts, registering the sudden death of his companion. “I’ll do it myself.” 

“She’s dead,” Tairn confirms, and another surge of adrenaline flies through Genevieve. It feels as if lightning was dancing across her skin, burning her, boiling her blood. Genevieve is panicked, but she moves her dagger to fend off an attack to her left, slicing down a forearm, and then another to the right, stabbing into a man’s thigh. 

“Use your brain!” Tairn bellows, and she lands an awfully hard dagger to a man’s gut. He collapses down to the floor as well, his sword tumbling after him. But now she’s cornered between the desk and the armoire. There are too many of them. They all rush in at once. 

In her state of overwhelming confusion, the daggers are snatched out of her hand with appalling ease, and her heart seizes as Oren grips her throat. Another attacker is pinning her hands behind her with a torn blanket. She attempts to sweep for his knees, but her lifts her off the ground and she never makes contact. She’s too far away for anything. 

“No. No. No.” She repeats over and over in her head, digging her nails into her palms, puncturing her skin as she attempts to claw free. His grip never eases as he crushes her throat. Air. There’s no air. 

“He’s almost there!” Tairn promises, panic lacing his tone. 

He who? Genevieve tries to respond, but she can’t breath, can’t think. 

“Finish her!” The one who’s hands pin Genevieve’s hands behind her back yells. “He’ll only respect us if we finish her!”

They’re after Tairn. 

His roar of rage fills Genevieve’s head as Oren lowers her body, flipping her around as he curls his arm so her back is against his chest. She can feel her feet back on the ground, but her vision is dark, her lungs fighting for oxygen that isn’t there. 

The greedy eyes of a bleeding first year stare back into Genevieve’s blank face. “Do it!” She demands. 

“You’re dragon is mine,” Oren hisses in her ear, and his hands fall away, replaced by a blade. 

Air rushes into her lungs as cold metal caresses her throat, the oxygen flooding her blood and clearing her head just enough for her to know that this is the end. She’s going to die. From one heartbeat to what will probably be her last, an overwhelming feeling of 

sorrow seizes her chest. 

What about Violet? Does she graduate? And Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer? Do they survive too? And Xaden, does Xaden regret not kissing me once more? 

The knife tip touches her skin. 

Her bedroom door flies open, the wood splintering as it slams against the stone wall, but she doesn’t have a chance to turn to see who is standing there before a harsh yell pierces her vision. 

“Now run!” Tairn screams. Skin-prickling energy zings down her spine and through her arms, then rushes to her fingertips and toes. 

A man to her left lunges at her, sword in full motion, and she’s dagger-less. 

In a last resort, she snaps the blanket that binds her hands, and holds them out, hoping to stop him in his tracks, but she doesn’t. Her hands make contact with him, and immediately he freezes, falling to the floor. 

“Go!” Tairn demands. 

She blinks at the man who has seemingly died from her touch. He isn’t breathing, isn’t moving. He’s dead. 

And before another one can take a hit on her, Genevieve darts to the door, nearly slamming full force into Xaden, who fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the messenger of the queen of gods. 

He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him. Relief immediately floods Genevieve’s mind, she feels so relieved that she could cry. 

“It’s about damned time,” Xaden’s gaze snaps to Genevieve, his onyx eyes flaring in shock and relief for a millisecond before he strides forwards, his shadows streaming before him as he stands at her side. He snaps his fingers, and the mage light illuminates the room around them. 

“You’re all fucking dead.” His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it. 

Every head in the room turns. 

“Riorson!” Oren’s dagger clatters to the floor. 

“You think surrendering will save you?” Xaden’s lethally soft tone sends goosebumps up her arms. “It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.”

”But you know he should have never bonded her!” Oren says, putting his hands up, his palms facing them. “You of all people have reason to want her dead!”

“Dragons don’t make mistakes.” Xaden’s shadows grab every assailant but Oren by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn’t matter. Their faces turn purple, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of her like lifeless puppets. 

Xaden prowls forward as though her has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts Quinn’s dagger out from under the first girls’ body. 

“Let me explain.” Oren eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble. 

“I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” Xaden’s fingers curl around the hilt of the dagger. “You’re lucky she only had two daggers on hand, or you would already be dead. But I’m here to kill you now.” He slashes forward so quickly that Genevieve barely catches the moves, and Oren’s throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent. 

He grabs for this throat, but it’s useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him. 

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gaze rakes over the room. “Morning Genevieve,” He nods. “No time for questioning?” His gaze sweeps over Genevieve, cataloging her injuries, catching on her throat. 

“No need for it,” Xaden counters as Bodhi enters, saying the same greeting, doing the same quick assessment that Garrick had. 

“Let me guess,” Bodhi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re on cleanup?” 

“Call for help if you need it,” Xaden answers with a nod, and suddenly, Genevieve is swept out of the room as she follows Xaden to his quarters silently. 

——————————————————————

Sitting on the bed in the center of his room, Genevieve rests her head in her hands, her breaths shallow as if she was still being choked. 

I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive. 

“Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden steps closer to her as he sits next to her. Her entire body shakes like a leaf as the adrenaline leaves her system, leaving her tired and hurting. 

“I didn’t realize I said that out loud,” She says, her tone an attempt at joking.

A few seconds pass in silence, just the sound of her breaths coming in short wheezes that Xaden can only describe as painful resonating in the walls of Xaden’s dorm. She shoves herself off of the bed quickly, muttering a quick apology as she nearly launches herself onto the trash can. 

She throws up once, then dry heaves for a moment. Xaden immediately is next to her, his hand warm on her back. 

“It’s just the shock,” he says, his hands soft on her back. “Are you hurt?” His words are clipped, but they’re gentle, and the pain in her body ebbs forward at the reminder that it's there. Every breath feels like she’s shoving broken glass into her lungs, but she doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m still angry at you.” She whispered, her voice hoarse and dry after throwing up. 

“Come on, Gen,” Xaden mutters, lifting her up off the floor next to the trash can and putting her gently onto the floor. “Tell me where you’re hurt.” 

The blood of the three cadets Genevieve has killed has dried underneath her finger nails, staining her hands red as she looks at them. Xaden killed three cadets, too, but he doesn’t look nearly as shaken as she does. Quinn’s dagger glitters on the table next to the door, but its blade is covered with blood, accentuating the ruby in the hilt. 

Genevieve can barely breath, her lungs burning with pain and fire. His fingers are warm under her chin as he tilts her head up so she’s looking at him, instead of her blood-crusted hands. “You’re breathing like crap, so I’m guessing it has to do with your ribs?” He says, his voice comforting as a hint of panic swirled behind his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” She lies. 

His focus snaps back to her eyes, his gaze no longer soft. 

“Don’t lie to me,” He says it with such ferocity, bit out through gritted teeth, that she can’t help but nod. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” She snaps, but her voice is too soft to have any real bite, and for some reason Xaden knows that Genevieve doesn’t mean it. Not right now, at least. Xaden’s eyes are trained onto hers, begging to know what’s wrong. “It hurts,” she finally admits, her voice so quiet he can barely hear her talk. 

“Let me see.” And she nods, so he pulls her nightshirt over her head, gently pulling it off so as not to shake whatever is hurting more than it already is. Their eyes meet, and a warmth flutters through her stomach. But the moment is gone as quickly as it came, and inspecting her right side, fingers gently stroke over the bruising on her ribs from when she clattered to the floor. 

“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs, her voice still quiet. 

“Come on, let’s go,” He says, and all of a sudden, when Genevieve turns around to grab her boots, he kneels on the floor in front of her, boots in hand. “I need to take you to the flight field.” 

“Why?” She asks, and Xaden can’t help but feel like it’s almost as if she was a child again. Her voice is soft and innocent like a young girl who hasn’t seen anything, but he knows that when she wakes up tomorrow morning, refreshed and strong for the day, she’ll be back to normal. She’ll be back to ignoring him and casting him glares whenever he tries to give her pointers. 

“You and I need answers,” He says, finishing up her boots before handing her the cloak he must have grabbed when ushering her out of her crime scene of a room. “That was one hell of a signet if that's what that was.” 

Oh right, she can feel herself remember what she had just blocked out. The whole touching people and then they die thing. 

“And we have to ask Tairn what the hell just happened,” Xaden’s jaw flexes. “And I’m not just talking about the attacks. How the hell did they get past your locks.” 

Genevieve stumbled, her legs weak as she tried to fall into step beside Xaden. His arm snaked around her waist to keep her steady. 

“I don’t lock my door,” She said, her voice soft but the words rang clear. 

“Sorry?” Xaden says, his tone indicating that he wants her to try again. To say something else. Anything else. “You don’t lock your doors?”

”I don’t lock my door.” She repeated, not changing. “It scares me. I don’t like being behind locked doors.” 

“You know it locks from the inside, though,” Xaden says, dragging her down one confusing hallway after the next. She’s lost all sense of direction as mage lights flicker on and off above her. “You’re not going to be locked in.” 

Genevieve’s breath hitched as she tried to keep up with Xaden’s long strides. Every step jarred the ache in her ribs, but she bit her lip, refusing to let him see just how much it hurt. She wasn’t fragile. She had survived worse—much worse.

”I know,” she whispered, her voice sounding distant, like it was floating from someone else. “But it’s not the same. The feeling is the same.” 

Xaden’s brows furrowed as they walked. His face resembles concern and confusion. His hand still anchored at her waist tightened slightly, keeping her upright.“What do you mean?” 

Genevieve inhaled shakily, avoiding his gaze. Her mind raced, flashing back to the darkness, the dungeon, the cold stone walls that seemed to press in on her from all sides. The memory of Lilith’s mocking voice, the rattle of chains as she was left alone in the pitch-black cell with nothing but the sound of her own ragged breathing, clawed at her insides. Locked doors were cages. Locked doors were suffocating. 

She cleared her throat, willing herself to focus on the present. “I don’t like the idea that someone can lock me in, even if I’m the one doing the locking.” 

His grip on her waist loosened as the words sunk in, understanding flickering in his dark eyes. He took a breath, as if searching for the right words. “You’re not there anymore, Gen. No one’s locking you in.” His voice was quieter now, and it had an edge of softness she hadn’t expected from him. 

For a brief second, she almost believed him. Almost. But the remnants of fear still clung to her chest, suffocating her almost as much as her buried ribs. The weight of it all—the kills, the literal blood on her hands, the secrets—was too much. She couldn’t afford to feel safe. Not yet. 

She quickly broke her eye contact with Xaden, moving away from him, “I know.” She said, and her voice was strong. “Let’s just go to the flight field now.” 

The ground shifts beneath her feet as though it’s rocking, but she knows better. It’s her head, the rust of the pain and the stress, and now the reminder that this happened because she was too weak to even lock her doors. Her breath catches, and her steps wobble. 

Xaden moves next to her again, steadying her. They just continue down the pathway in a silence she can’t find herself to try and break. He just stands next to her as they walk down the cold stone corridor. 

“Why are you taking me to the flight field?” She asks again, her voice now clearer than before. “Because I can talk to Tairn whenever I want to, so unless you want to talk to him, there’s no reason for this.” 

Xaden stayed quiet, but his eyes watched her sharply. 

“You’re insane,” Genevieve said, her voice dropping to a tired murmur. “I can’t believe you want to talk to my dragon.” Her words were a mix of frustration and disbelief, but there was something else beneath it—something softer. Maybe even relief. 

Xaden didn’t respond, just continuing to take her farther and farther down the hall and then to a stonewall end of the tunnel. A few hand gestures and then another click sounds before he pushes open the door. They step into the crisp, freezingly cold November air. 

“What the hell,” she whispers. The door is built into a stack of boulders on the eastern side of the field. 

“It’s camouflaged.” Xaden waves a hand and the door closes, blending into the rocks as if it’s a part of it. “When you get better at lesser magic, I’ll teach you how to use this door as well.”

As they walk towards the center of the field, the grass grows behind her every step. It turns a little greener as she moves closer, and browns as she leaves, almost as if she was breathing life into the winter stricken earth with every step. Flowers bloom behind her movements, red poppies and white lilies spring across the field, illustrating her path. 

But Xaden and her don’t notice. They’re just focused on her hands, on the death that sprang from them. 

There’s a sound that she now recognizes as the steady beat of wings, and she looks up to see two dragons block out the stars as they descend. The earth shudders as they land in front of them. 

“I’m guessing the wingleader wants a word?” Tairn steps forward and Sgaeyl follows, her wings tucked in tight, her golden eyes narrowing in on Genevieve. 

“Yes, I want a word. What the hell kind of powers are you channeling to her?” Xaden demands, staring up at Tairn like he isn’t… Tairn. 

Yep. Ballsy. Every muscle in her body locks, sure that Tairn is bound to torch Xaden for impudence. 

“None of your business what I choose or do not choose to channel towards my rider,” Tairn answers with a growl. 

This is going well. 

“He says—” She starts. 

“I heard him,” Xaden counters, not sparing Genevieve a glance. 

“You what?” Her eyebrows raise so fast they nearly hit her hairline. Dragons only talk to their riders. That’s what Genevieve was taught. Despite whatever mate bond they have going on, Tairn should only talk to her. 

“It’s absolutely my business when you expect me to protect her,” Xaden retorts, his voice rising. 

“I got the message to you just fine, human.” Tairn’s head swivels in the snakelike motion that puts Genevieve on high alert. He’s more than agitated. 

“And I barely made it.” The words come out clipped through clenched teeth. “She would have been dead if I’d been thirty seconds later.”

“Seems like you had thirty seconds gifted to you.” Tairn’s chest rumbles with a growl. 

“And I’d like to know what the fuck happened in there!”

Genevieve inhales sharply. 

“I may hate him right now, but you said you wouldn’t flame him,” Genevieve reminds him, her words begging. “And he just saved me.” 

Tairn grumbles in response. 

“We need to know what happened in that room.” Xaden’s dark gaze cuts through Genevieve like a knife for a millisecond before he glares back at Tairn. 

“Don’t dare to try and read my rider or I, human, or you’ll regret it.” Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion Genevieve knows well. She steps between the two, her gaze narrowing. 

What in Malek’s name does that mean?

“He’s just a little freaked out. Don’t scorch him.” 

“At least we agree on something.” A feminine voice sounds through Genevieve’s head. 

Sgaeyl. 

In awe, she blinks up at the navy blue dagger tail as Xaden moves to Genevieve’s side. 

“She talked to me.” 

“I know. I heard.” He folds his arms across his chest. For a moment he understood her second of frustration because that was his dragon, his beautiful blue dragon. “It’s because they’re mates. It’s the same reason you can feel my emotions. The same reason I’m chained to you.” 

“Don’t make it sound so pleasant.” She quips, her eyes never leaving Sgaeyl. 

“Gen, don’t do this right now,” he turns to face her. “But you and I are exactly that, Gen. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how one second that cadet was alive and the next he was on the floor dead as if his life was taken from him. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.” His eyes bore into hers as she finally moved from Sgaeyl. 

“I don’t know what happened,” She answered honestly. 

Xaden’s frustration simmers, his gaze sharp as he watches her, watches the flowers that seemed to have spring from the frost coated ground around her, the vines that snake up her legs. “You’re telling me you don’t know how you killed someone just by touching them?” 

Genevieve shifts uncomfortably under the weight of his stare, her ribs aching with every breath. She truly didn’t know how to explain it. One moment she was fighting for her life, her body reacting on instinct—then there was a hold of energy, like something had snapped within her, and everything had unraveled. The cadet had fallen at her feet, eyes wide and unseeing. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her mind replays the scene-the surge of power, the warmth in her hands, the sudden absence of life. It hadn’t felt like her. It had felt other. A force she had no control over. 

Xaden grits his teeth, but before he can respond, Tairn lets out a low rumble that reverberates through the ground beneath their feet. The dragon’s golden eyes flicker between the two of them before settling on Genevieve. 

“It was your signet,” Tairn’s voice echoes in her mind, deep and resonant. “You are a life-weaver, Genevieve.” 

Her breath catches, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the sound of his words. Life-weaver? She had heard of rare signets that could manipulate the life force of others, but they were legends—whispers passed down by riders who had never known anyone strong enough to possess such power. 

Xaden’s hand reached out to her, and panic immediately flashed through her eyes. She took a step back, shaking her head. 

“No, no, you can’t touch me,” She says, her voice rising in panic and fear. “I don’t know what will- I didn’t mean to—” Her words falter as her gaze drops to her hands, still stained with the blood of the cadet. The memory of that fleeting connection with his life—how it had pulsed and then slipped away like sand through her fingers—burns fresh in her mind. She had taken it, without even realizing it. 

Sgaeyl shifts, her broad wingspan stretching, casting a shadow over the group as her voice cuts in, smoother and more refined than Tairn’s. “Your power, Genevieve, is not just in taking life. You can give it as well.” 

Her brows furrows in confusion, her heart pounding. Give life? The concept seems too foreign, too overwhelming. she had always seen herself as someone who had survived by taking—taking control, taking lives, taking what was necessary to keep herself from falling apart. The idea of giving, of restoring life, feels impossible. 

“How… how do you know that?” She asks, her voice small. 

Sgaeyl’s eyes gleam as she tilts her head, her voice patient but firm. “It is in your nature, Genevieve. You want nothing more to live, and signets are manifestations of a rider's truest desires. In time, you will learn to control it.”

Xaden is still beside her, his expression unreadable as he watches the exchange between Genevieve and his dragon. He seems torn between awe and concern, his dark eyes glancing between Tairn and Sgaeyl before settling on Genevieve once again. 

“And what happens if she doesn’t?” Xaden asks, his voice low. There’s a tension in his tone, a hint of fear that Genevieve hasn’t heard before.

Sgaeyl’s gaze sharpens, her voice no longer gentle. “If she cannot master her power, the consequences will be devastating. For her and those around her.” 

A chill runs down Genevieve’s spine. She can feel the weight of the warning in Sgaeyl’s words, the unspoken danger lurking beneath the surface of her newfound abilities. If she couldn’t control this power—this ability to manipulate life and death—then every touch, every moment of weakness could mean someone else’s end. The thought makes her stomach twist. 

“How do I control it?” She says, and she hopes her voice hasn’t cracked to give away the vulnerability she’s trying so hard to suppress. “How do I make sure I don’t hurt anyone else?” 

Tairn steps forward, his massive form towering over her as he speaks. “You will learn, Genevieve. But it will not be easy. This power comes at a cost—every life taken, every life restored, will demand something from you.” 

Xaden’s eyes darken at Tairn’s words, his protective instincts flaring. “What kind of cost?”

Tairn’s tail flicks, his eyes narrowing on Xaden before turning back to Genevieve. “That is for her to discover. The balance between life and death is delicate, and every choice will weigh on her soul.” 

Genevieve swallows hard, her mind racing. She wants to scream, to push the dragons and Xaden away, to shut out the overwhelming reality that her signet might be something far darker and more dangerous than she ever imagined. But there’s no escaping it now. This power is a part of her, whether she likes it or not. 

Xaden steps closer, his gaze softening as he looks down at her. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he says quietly. “Whatever happens… we’ll figure it out.” 

She looks up at him, her chest tight with emotion. The weight of what she has done, of what she might do in the future, threatens to crush her. But in his eyes, she sees something else—trust, perhaps, or maybe just a flicker of hope. Something she hasn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time. 

“I’m not ready,” she whispers, her voice trembling. 

“You don’t have to be,” Xaden replies softly. His hand reaches for hers, and when his fingers lace through hers, she feels a warmth—life, not death—flow between them. But she immediately retracted hers, and watched as a flash of hurt echoed over his eyes. “We’ll take this one step at a time.” 

Tairn and Sgaeyl watched silently as the two stood there, connected by the fragile thread of shared understanding. Neither dragon speaks, but Genevieve can feel their presence, a steady and unwavering reminder that her journey has only just begun. She isn’t alone, not anymore. 

———————————————

The next morning, Liam Mairi was added to Genevieve’s squad, his own squad being dissolved as a result of him being one of three left. Amber Mavis was executed by Tairn’s fire for organizing an attack on a sleeping cadet, and Genevieve found herself face to face with the horrified eyes of her own squad mates. 

“So you killed them?” Sawyer asks, trying to get his facts straight. “With no weapons? Just your hands?”

“No,” Genevieve corrected. “I only killed one of them with my signet. The other two I stabbed. If you're going to look at me like I’m a monster, at least get your head out of the clouds and be realistic.” 

Sawyer glanced up and down, his eyes traveling from the unnaturally lush grass at her feet to her white hair. “What even is your signet? And what happened last night?” He asked again. 

“My signet is Life Weaving,” she said again. “Don’t ask me what it means, I have a day until Professor Carr starts training and then I learn what Life Weaving really is. And for the last time, I was attacked in my sleep by Oren and Amber Mavis and five other cadets. Two of them I murdered with a dagger and one of them I murdered just by touching him.” Her tone was final, and left no room for argument. “Now can you stop asking me? And I don’t like the face you’re making!”

“Gods, Genevieve,” Ridoc said, his voice low with a mix of admiration and fear. “You show up on the craziest dragon and now manifest the craziest signet?”

Genevieve stared at Ridoc, her eyes cold and calculating. His tone was laced with a sense of awe and apprehension, which only served to amplify her discomfort. She could sense the shift in the atmosphere around her squad—whispers and sideways glances punctuated the air as news of her signet traveled from person to person. They were both intrigued and frightened, and Genevieve didn’t need to be an inntinnsic to understand why. 

“Don’t get too caught up in the spectacle,” Genevieve said, her voice cutting through the murmur of the squad. “It’s not a show. It’s survival.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She could feel the vines growing up from her feet, twisting and winding up her legs and around her. The weight of her own abilities and the consequences of her decision were heavy on her shoulders, almost as heavily as Xaden’s gaze. 

Liam, who had been silent until now, still getting used to the squad, getting acquainted with the new people, nodded slowly. 

“You did what you had to do,” He says, and a flower blooms in the palm of her hand accidentally. “You didn’t want to kill them but you had to. And you’re alive now, isn’t that what matters?” 

“Exactly. I did what I had to do,” She shot a glare at Sawyer. “Now stop looking at me like that!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” He says, putting his hands up in mock defense. “I just didn’t know everytime I high-fived you I was risking my life.” His voice carries a tone of joking play. 

Genevieve’s eyes narrowed at Sawyer’s attempt at humor, the flicker of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth despite herself. The tension in the air eased slightly, though the discomfort lingered beneath the surface. 

Liam’s thoughtful observation had brought a moment of clarity amidst the chaos, and Genevieve could see how the squad was beginning to adjust to the new dynamics. The lush grass beneath her feet seemed to pulse with the lingering energy of her confrontation from the night before, a reminder of both her power and her peril. 

Sawyer cleared his throat, his playful facade faltering as he looked around at the other squad members, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease. “Alright, alright. I get it. No more questions about the ‘craziest signet.’”

Ridoc, still with a glint of respect in his eyes, stepped forward. “We should focus on what’s ahead. We’ve got new training sessions starting soon, and we need to make sure we’re all on the same page. We go to the archives tomorrow, and then Genevieve and Sawyer start in Professor Carr’s class, so hopefully we can get some information on their signets.” 

The group nodded, everyone in agreement with the plan. 

“Alright team,” Rhiannon continued, stepping forward with her usual blend of authority and empathy. “Let’s put the past behind us and focus on the present. We need to be prepared for what’s coming. Signet training with Carr is going to beat Genevieve and Sawyer’s asses, so let’s get to it!”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the squad was united in their resolve. The previous night’s chaos had shaken them, but now there was a shared purpose in their eyes. Genevieve, though still reeling from the events, felt a flicker of something she hadn’t fully acknowledged—hope. It was a small, fragile thing, but it was there, nestled among the cracks of her hardened exterior. 

The squad’s camaraderie was palpable, a shared commitment to overcoming their trials together. the tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. The lush grass around Genevieve continued to grow, a visual testament to her power and the new path she was forging. 

As they began to disperse, preparing for the day ahead, Genevieve felt her head clear for the first time since the attack.

Life really does go on after signet manifestation. 

——

Violet sat across from Genevieve at a secluded table in the archives, scribes that Violet knew, bustled around them, but Genevieve’s eyes were trained on the single book in between them. 

“I searched the entire archives and I could only find one thing on Life Weaving,” Violet says, “and it's from a guy who lived 400 years ago.”

“Great,” Genevieve groaned. The past few days had been hell for her, with everyone finding out what her signet is. From her squad, it was just her and Sawyer so far that had manifested their signets, and Professor Carr was of no help in figuring out what Life Weaving really meant, so she was on her own. Not to mention, she had been practically ignoring Xaden since October, now it was mid November, and the only time she had talked to him was when he came to save her. “Let me guess, it’s in some obscure language that only you or the scribes know, so I can’t even figure it out for myself.” 

“Let me finish.”Violet said, her voice snapping. “His name was Korrin Lysander, and according to this he’s the only other known Life Weaver, ever. Even then it was considered a rare and mythical power, even of the most skilled of riders.” Violet’s fingers gently brush over the worn pages, revealing a faded illustration of a man with pale eyes and pale hair, hand glowing with ethereal light as vines twisted behind him. “It’s said that Life Weavers can manipulate the very essence of life itself—both creating and destroying.” 

Genevieve leans in closer, her eyes scanning the text as Violet continues. “Lysander’s notes are vague at best. He describes it as a power tied to the rider’s deepest desires and emotions. He mentions something about ‘balancing the scales’ of life and death, but it’s mostly cryptic.” 

Liam appears from behind a bookshelf, pulling up a chair and sitting right next to Violet. Genevieve casts a sideways glance at how close the two of them are, but ultimately she ignores it, her fingers still trembling slightly as she turns the pages. The weight of the power she’s discovered presses heavily on her, each turn of the page feeling like a step deeper into the dark, uncertain path. 

“So this Life Weaving thing… it’s not just about killing, it’s about giving life?” Liam asks, snaking an arm around Violet. “And sorry, I searched all the old Tyrrish texts, but nothing. Sawyer and Ridoc are in the Luceran section, but no luck there either.” 

“Exactly,” Violet replies. “It seems like Lysander could heal as well as harm, but the specifics are unclear. Seems like his main mode of fighting was through rapidly growing vines and using them as whips or ropes. He also writes about the cost—how each act of weaving could take a toll on the rider’s own life force.” 

Genevieve’s brow furrowed as she absorbed the information, her mind racing with the implications. The idea that every time she used her signet, it could drain her, chip away at her own life, sent a chill down her spine. The thought of losing herself bit by bit, becoming weaker each time she saved someone else, felt like another chain around her neck. 

“So, I could heal people, but it’d drain me in the process?” Genevieve’s voice was quieter than she intended, her fingers tracing the faded ink of the ancient pages. She already carried the weight of her survival, the guilt of who she’d had to become to stay alive. But not, the possibility that her power could take even more from her—strip away her life—was overwhelming. 

Violet glanced at her, her expression more sympathetic than usual. “It seems that way. Lysander’s writings are frustratingly vague, but I had Jesenia help me, and we found that there’s enough here to suggest that in order to be able to take you need to give too, and giving is easier than taking. It does suggest that the power isn’t infinite though, the more you use it, the more it could cost. It’s all about balance—creating life, taking life, it all seems to go hand in hand.”

Genevieve swallowed hard, leaning back in her chair. The tension between her and Xaden over the past few weeks had been like a boulder pressing on her chest, and now, with this new layer of uncertainty, she felt even more isolated. It had been bad enough when her squad found out about her signet, the fear and awe in their eyes as she realized what she was capable of. But now, learning that the very thing that had saved her life in that brutal moment could also lead to her undoing…

“How in Malek’s name am I supposed to balance something like that?” Genevieve muttered, running a hand through her dark hair. “What if I can’t control it?”

Violet doesn’t respond immediately, instead, flipping another page and scanning the text. “You’re definitely not the first person to feel that way,” she finally said. “Lysander writes about the early days of his power, when he was terrified of using it, afraid that he’d lose control. But he learned!”

Genevieve scoffed softly, her skepticism cutting through her fear. “That’s great in theory. But Lysander had time. I don’t.” 

Liam, still seated close to Violet, finally spoke up again. “That’s why we’re here, right? To figure this out before something happens. And you won’t be on your own. You’ve got us.” 

Genevieve glanced at him, her lips twitching with a hint of a smile. Liam’s loyalty was something she could always count on, even when everything else seemed uncertain. But the truth was, this was a path she’d have to walk largely alone. Life Weaving was rare, mythical even. No one, not even her friends, could truly understand what it felt like to have this burden. 

Except Xaden. Shadow wielding was almost as rare as Life Weaving. He would know. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with gratitude and exhaustion. “I know.” 

But the unease lingered, heavy and suffocating. The memory of that night—of the cadets lying lifeless at her feet, of the vines she hadn’t even realized she’d summoned—flashed in her mind, and a part of her wondered how much of her life had already been taken. 

“What now?” Liam asked, breaking the silence. “Do we keep searching? I could go back and run through the Tyrrish section again, just to see if anything is stashed away?” 

Violet shook her head. “There’s no point. We’ve combed the archives top to bottom. If there’s anything more on Life Weaving, it’s buried so deep no one’s found it in centuries.” 

“Maybe she could practice on Ridoc?” Liam proposed, his voice light, as usual. “Kill him quickly and then revive him. He’d never know the difference.” 

“Be quiet!” Violet said, lightly hitting him on the arm. 

Genevieve’s hands tightened into fists on her lap. She could feel her chest tightening, her breaths shallow. Her instincts were screaming for action, for something to fight against, but there was no enemy in sight—just this invisible force tying her to a power she didn’t understand. 

“I need time,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I need to figure this out before it kills me or one of you.” She stood abruptly, pushing back the chair and grabbing the book, clutching it tightly as if it held the key to her survival. 

Violet stood as well, placing a hand on Genevieve’s arm. “It won’t-”

“Don’t touch me!” Genevieve said loudly, earning a harsh shush from one of the scribes nearby. Violet immediately retracted her hand, mumbling a quick sorry. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Genevieve. We’ll figure it out together. Xaden will—”

”Don’t,” Genevieve cut her off again, her voice sharp. “Xaden and I… we’re not..” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. The weight of their last encounter still hung heavily between them, unresolved and festering. She couldn’t think about him now, not when she didn’t know how to even deal with herself. 

Violet hesitated but nodded. “Just… don’t shut him out forever. He cares more than he lets on. And he’s literally in your head, all day every day, you can’t avoid him.”

Genevieve didn’t reply, her focus already shifting to the book in her hands. she needed answers—needed to understand what she had become. The path ahead was dark, but it was hers to walk, even if it meant risking everything in the process. 

————————————————

Hello all! I’m back a day early with this chapter, just because all of a sudden I’m getting a lot of love on this work, and I want to keep you all happy (make you all watch Genevieve slowly descend into a self-dedicating madness).

Either way, I’m going to update again on Wednesday this week with Chapter 12, and then Chapter 13 next Saturday or Sunday, but I want to know- I wrote chapter 13 with a little smut (😬) and it’s my first attempt ever so It sucks, do you still want me to post that?If no one says no I’ll post it with a warning LMAO.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and what do you think of her signet? I spent so much time thinking about it, and it’s definitely very much based off of the fates from Greek mythology. Please like and leave a comment on what you thought! Thank you~

[cephalog0d]

Yeah I'm not done yet.

The thing I keep coming back to is that as much as I'm down to nit-pick things like how characters are written and plot details (and boy are there a whole infestation of nits to pick), what it boils down to is that the basic premise here shouldn't even be happening.

I get they're doing a Thing with Bruce and the after effects of Failsafe and Zur and Insomnia so sure I guess it makes sense to have him acting totally unreasonably. I'm not saying it's a plotline I'm thrilled with, but whatever. This is about everyone else.

You have half a dozen people routinely patrolling in Gotham, who've been doing it for years, who know the city and how it works, who have at least two people who are particularly inclined towards collecting and parsing data for patterns for crime fighting purposes, and none of you noticed anything amiss until Selina called and was like "Hey did you notice my neat new plan I've been doing?"

To that point, in a room full of literal canonical geniuses not a single person has thought to ask any of a dozen very practical questions that occurred to me, a non-genius reader, roughly 10 seconds after reading what The Plan was. Things like, oh, I don't know

How is this going to be a sustainable long-term effort?

For example, what happens when Gotham's wealthiest realize what you're doing and dramatically beef up their security (with tech or with actual people), making it much harder and more dangerous?

Like iirc you, Selina, have definitely had some real dicey situations as a result of your profession, and you're a lot more experienced than these people.

(Hey speaking of which isn't there a whole secret society of Gotham's wealthiest and most powerful who have access to nearly unkillable assassins? Who keeps coming back even though they keep being taken down? You think any of these people might belong to that?)

What happens when the rich folks get pissed and sic the heavily militarized GCPD on you? Don't act like they won't, I'm sure someone's squirreled away stuff from that whole Fear State fiasco.

For that matter, what happens when the costumed villainry figure out who swiped all their henchpeople and decide to object to it, presumably violently?

How many people are we talking here anyway that you're training? How many ultra-wealthy people live in Gotham? How many easily stealable things do they have sitting around to take? (As opposed to, like, other non-liquid fake assets like stocks)

How are you fencing all this anyway? Isn't that a great way to get caught? Or is everyone just stealing cash? (Or did nobody think about the part between "got the valuable thing" and "have usable money from it"?)

How on god's green earth did you ever assume this was going to end in anything other than violence?

Like of course one of your guys got killed. It doesn't matter that you told them no violence, even if they fully buy into that it only takes one panicked reaction when someone's home who shouldn't be, on either side, and there you go.

Look I get what they're trying to do. It's supposed to be a big moral quandary about whether it's right to allow some crime if it decreases other crime, the struggle between Batman being unreasonably violent and unwilling to listen and this new plan of Selina's. First of all that's a weird debate to have when everyone having it is technically a criminal to some degree. And second of all, it doesn't matter, this isn't about the morality, this is about how this plan is fucking dumb and was destined to fall apart even if Batman was still asleep and the fact that any of you are buying it just means there's a gas leak in Gotham somewhere.

[saintsenara]

Unhinged ships Fenrir Greyback edition: Fenrir Greyback/Lucius Malfoy ; Fenrir Greyback/Hepzibah Smith ; Fenrir Greyback/Voldemort ; Fenrir Greyback/Dolores Umbridge

thank you so much for the ask, anon! i'm thrilled to see all the love dear old greyback has been getting recently!

fenrir greyback/lucius malfoy

as i said here - in relation to shipping greyback with narcissa - i find greyback's relationship with the malfoys in deathly hallows incredibly compelling. the absolute collapse in their social standing when they lose voldemort's favour - and the fact that voldemort clearly sanctions them being humiliated by other death eaters - lends such an interesting dynamic to the potential relationship between lucius and greyback. after all, we see that greyback is extremely deferential to bellatrix - who retains voldemort's goodwill - even as he's happy to mock lucius, and we can assume that, during the first war, lucius could also expect to have greyback kneeling for him...

[if you know what i mean.]

and then discovers this position reversed when he collapses to mean even less to voldemort than a werewolf.

and then learns that greyback has been holding onto some resentments about their earlier relationship. which he'd be quite keen to let out in the malfoy dungeons... especially when the alternative for lucius is to watch him exact his revenge upon draco.

fenrir greyback/hepzibah smith

they were introduced by tom riddle, who saw hepzibah making her way towards him across the three broomsticks - several pinot grigios deep and while wearing a very low-cut top - and decided to use greyback as a human shield.

fifteen minutes later, he was the least-welcome third wheel in history.

it was outrageous, he thought - miserably stirring his piña colada - for greyback to let down his master like this. he'd been hoping the werewolf would eat her.

and he did. just not in the way lord voldemort would have liked.

fenrir greyback/lord voldemort

i genuinely back this one.

voldemort ships most interestingly with people who are his "exceptions" - and who therefore can come to depend completely on him and his goodwill, both in a relationship and outside it. bellamort slaps because she's his exception in terms of gender, snapemort because he's his exception in terms of social class, tomarrymort because harry's the only person he considers an equal, riddledore because dumbledore is the only person who knows the secrets of his childhood, and so on.

greyback occupies - as i've said here - a really interesting position in the death eater hierarchy in that his lycanthropy [and the savagery with which he indulges it] makes him someone voldemort considers special in comparison to the rest of his servants, but equally someone he excludes from the broader social network the organisation represents. the marked death eaters - especially those who are related by blood, marriage, or both - all know each other, they're largely from similar social backgrounds, they all went to hogwarts - but greyback didn't. he's someone they - by virtue of their standing in society - consider beneath them. they would never lower themselves to socialising with him as a peer.

as a result, greyback depends totally on voldemort for his continued status [and, while greyback is undoubtedly terrifying, this doesn't mean he's unkillable - voldemort would have no qualms about offing him if he fell from grace, and he will know this].

and this has the chance to introduce a really interesting power dynamic. greyback is someone who - as lupin tells us in half-blood prince - is a powerful community figure among werewolves, who has great influence and authority over werewolf groups. he is not, then, the sort of man who would find it easy to take the subordinate, deferential position which voldemort would expect from him - after all, fucking a terrorist kingpin means that every aspect of any relationship you have is exclusively on his terms.

i think you can do a lot with that - with greyback's conflicting feelings over both enjoying and resenting being controlled, and with voldemort starting out by seeing him as nothing more than a sex toy and then starting to recognise impulses [to want to destroy the world which excludes him and to want to be embraced by it] which remind him of himself [which he finds both welcome and unwelcome].

it's hot. i'd read it.

fenrir greyback/dolores umbridge

offensive. he can do better.

[biteofcherry]

Well now I want to know about their* fave drinks, fruits, and flowers!

Especially flowers—how would they react, I wonder, if you brought them flowers just because they made you think of him? 😂🥰

*Ari (all, any, yaaas), Nesting!Steve, and GrainofTruth!Steve are all on my mind, but answer about whomever you like! 😘

Hahahaha, I absolutely adore you @eralen 😘 you're the bestest! 💕

Mafia!Ari (Sweet Thrill) is a vodka kind of man, top shelf of course like Gray Goose and it has to be chillingly cold. Non alcoholic, it's surprisingly all types of tea. He's a connoisseur. He'll make tea for both of you and cuddle with you on the couch, reading books. Flavor-wise he likes really sweet fruit, but mostly focuses on buying fruit that can be cut into pieces that don't turn into mush, because he likes to feed his pet treats while you kneel at his feet. He likes this game where you're blindfolded and with open mouth await if you'll get a fruit, a finger, or a cock next 😏 He buys you peonies, as he prefers something more unique yet still classic. And there's always an abundance, the bouquets barely fitting in your arms. You get him black roses - elegant and dark to match Ari's intensity. It surprises him, but he keeps them until they crumble, and cuts the head of one rose to keep in his breastpocket.

Alpha!Steve (Grain of truth) doesn't drink alcohol often, even if you're at a restaurant or party, but if he does then it's either whisky or gin. He's one of those people who drink lots of water and of course all types of coffee brew, even occasionally some crazy Starbucks frappuccino. Steve's an all American boy, so cherries, peaches, apples, blueberries are his fruit to go. Though, honestly, he prefers them in pies than eating fresh fruit 😆 He likes house plants and simple garden flowers, since those are the kinds his Ma had and because it's what you like. He has a really hilariously dumbfounded face when you stumble into the house trying to carry a heavy pot with a pachira plant. When he takes it from your hands, you announce you got it for him - because it grows ridiculously huge and is unkillable. Steve reminds you thoroughly why you like his size so much and why you shouldn't complain about it... And then spanks you when you name the plant Alphachira 😂

Mafia!Steve (Nesting) is definitely a whisky guy, Chivas commercial vibes only smoother and hotter when Steve savors the flavor and you're unable to avert your gaze from his lips. Otherwise, he likes smoothies and coffee and isn't picky as long as it tastes good. Fruit is something he rarely munchies on, he actually eats it more since you're with him, so it's the types you like to eat. He does have a sweet spot for peaches, though. but that's mostly, because you get all squirmy and wet when he devours eats one in front of you... 🤤 Teases you, asking if you need him to eat your peach (and doesn't even wait for an answer, spreading you on the nearest surface). Steve appreciates flower bouquets, there were always some in vases around his penthouse even before you moved in. Elegant roses that were regularly delivered from a flower shop. Then you change the order and the flowers start coming more colorful and chaotic. He likes the freesias most, their scent reminds him of your perfume.

Alpha!Ari (Bad moon rising) likes a good, dark beer (not the light piss, but bitter porter), as well bourbon. His non-alcoholic choices are fresh squeezed juice and mint infused water. He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, so coke or any soda aren't to his liking. It's also why he keeps to less exotic fruit, preferring rich but tart flavors of blackberries and cherries. Ari especially likes eating them from between your trembling lips, juice dribbling down your chins as he bites through the fruit and kisses you - after he's gone down on you and your taste is still in his mouth, mixing with the tart fruit 😏 He likes field flowers, like cornflowers or poppies, and lilies of the valley that grow in patches in various parts of the woods belonging to your pack. If you bring him a small bouquet, he'll display them proudly in a glass on his desk (then coax you to go for a run and take you on the forest floor, right on a patch of delicate flowers).

[hellfirehottie]

California Dreamin’ - Eddie Munson

Chapter Ten -I Just Want You

Chapter summary: Nina has doubts and Eddie soothes them. Angst and fluff.

Content warnings: kinda heavy chapter, big mental health warning! Nina feels damaged / unlovable, Nina finds it hard to accept Eddie's love (this will be a continued theme), Nina has bad (past) coping strategies: reckless behaviour, dr*g use (c*caine), excessive alcohol drinking, implied sexually promiscuous behaviour. (if any of what you read sounds like yourself, you're not alone, please seek help if you need it. I'm always here to talk to if needed!) mentions of child abuse and neglect, mentions of parental alcoholism, Nina had bad unsupportive friends, Eddie being a lovesick puppy, quite fluffy despite heavy material, cute ending, mentions of Eddie's scars.

"There are no incurable ills

There are no unkillable thrills

One thing and you know it's true

I don't ask much, I just want you."

I Just Want You - Ozzy Osbourne

Friday / Forest Hills trailer park / 8:32PM

Wayne is sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching TV. His eyebrows raise upon hearing Eddie’s loud music and screeching tires of his van, signalling he is home from work.

[Eddie enters through the trailer door]

Eddie: “Hey Wayne.” [he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a drink, opening the can and taking a drink]

Wayne: [not looking away from the television] “Somebody called and left a message for you.” [Eddie raises his eyebrows, Wayne continues teasingly, smug] “A girl named Nina.”

Eddie: (shocked) “She did?” [playing it cool] “What did she say?”

Wayne: “She said she’s pregnant.” [Eddie spits out his drink, choking, soda coming out of his nose. Wayne laughs at Eddie, finishing off his dinner] “Just kidding, relax kid. She asked for you to meet at your spot at 9 tonight.”

Eddie: [red in the face, dumbfounded] “Th- thanks Wayne.”

Wayne: [looking at Eddie now] “So who’s the girl? Is she your girlfriend?”

Eddie: [avoiding eye contact] “She’s called Nina.”

Wayne: “I got that part.”

Eddie: [trying to be nonchalant] “She’s new in town. Friends with Robin.”

Wayne: “Ahh, I see. Do you like her?”

Eddie: (blushing) “She’s cool.” [Wayne smirks at him] “She’s been helping me with English, we’ve hung out a few times.” [Wayne raises his eyebrows, pressing the matter] “Okay, fine, I like her, let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

Wayne: “I knew you’d seemed happier lately! This is great, Eddie!” [He gets up from the couch, tray in hand, and pats Eddie on the back] “Good on you, son.”

Eddie: [happy] “Thanks, Wayne.”

Wayne: [proud] “You seem like your old self again, Eddie.” [honest] “Thought I’d lost you for a while there, kid.”

Eddie: [quietly] “Yeah, me too.” [smiling to himself] “She makes me happy.” [timid] “I’m even on my way to graduating this year.”

Wayne: [patting his back] “This is great.” [hugging him] “I’m so proud of you, son.”

Eddie: [appreciative, patting him on the back] “Thanks Wayne.” [sheepish] “And thank you for putting up with my moping around these past few months. I’m getting better, I promise.”

Wayne: “I’m glad to hear it.” [walking to his room, grinning, clapping his hands together] “My boy’s got himself a girlfriend, hot damn!”

Eddie: [calling after him] “She’s not my girlfriend!”

Wayne: “Just don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be a Grandpop just yet!”

Eddie: [blushing red, heart fluttering] “Shut it Wayne!” [to himself, stunned] “Damn it.”

[Eddie looks at the kitchen clock, reading 8:40pm. His eyes widen and he runs to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

He looks at his appearance in the mirror, letting out a shaky breath.]

Eddie: “Come on Eddie, you’ve got this.” [he splashes cold water on his face, patting it dry and looking at his reflection nervously] “Just be cool man, just be cool.” [He takes another deep breath, shaking his arms and stretching his neck and shoulders] “You can do this.”

[He sprays cologne on his neck and flattens his hair before turning off the bathroom light and leaving the trailer. He jogs to his van and swings the door open. He turns on the engine and the stereo blares ‘Hungry Eyes’ by Eric Carmen. Eddie looks at the radio confused, hitting it a few times to change the channel, but the song doesn’t change.

He begins to drive quickly out of the trailer park, the mud on the ground skidding on his tires.

Eddie anxiously taps his fingers on his steering wheel along to the music, humming to calm his nerves.

He looks between the radio and the road, the lyrics to the song causing butterflies in his stomach.]

‘I've been meaning to tell you

I've got this feelin' that won't subside,’

[Eddie lets out a nervous breath, feeling his heart race in his chest]

‘I look at you and I fantasise

You're mine tonight,’

[Eddie pulls up on the side of the road by the field. He sees Nina in the distance, sitting holding her knees in the field, looking out at the sunset.]

‘Now I've got you in my sights

With these hungry eyes.

One look at you and I can't disguise,

I've got hungry eyes,

I feel the magic between you and I.’

[Eddie turns off the radio and the engine. He looks at his reflection one more time.]

Eddie: (confidently) “You’ve got this. Just be cool.”

[Eddie strides over to Nina. She pulls off her headphones as Eddie approaches, smiling warmly at him.]

Nina: (fondly) “Hey, handsome.”

Eddie: (warmly) “Hey, you.” [he takes a seat beside her on the grass] “Everything okay?”

Nina: “All good. Just wanted to see you.” [shyly, pulling at the grass] “I wanted to talk to you about some stuff.”

Eddie: (unsure) “Oh?”

Nina: [cant meet his eyes, nervous] “We need to talk.” [Eddie’s face drops]

Eddie: [panicking] “Did I do something wrong? Am I coming on too strong? Is it about the other night? Oh god, did I do the thing wrong? Fuck, I-“

Nina: “Eddie, breathe, you’ve done nothing wrong, the other night was great, it’s a me thing.”

Eddie: “Oh, right.” [realising] “Oh. Is this a whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing?’”

Nina: “No, it’s not that either. I,” [struggling] “Fuck, I don’t know how to say this.”

Eddie: [joking to ease his nerves, wiggling his eyebrows] “Is this your way of telling me you’ve got an STI and now I’ve got one too? Do I need to get tested?”

Nina: “And you tell me off for making a joke out of everything.” [eyebrows raised, mock offence] “One, no I don’t have an STI, two, I’m offended you said that, terrible bantering skills Munson, you’re in the doghouse.” [Eddie pouts] “And three, looks like we’ll be revising biology too if you think you can get an STI doing what we did.” [Eddie looks at her bashfully, amused, can’t look her in the eye, giddy as he remembers the other night. Nina chews her thumb anxiously] “There’s just some stuff you should know before we, y’know, go any further.”

Eddie: [laughing nervously] “You’re kinda freaking me out now.”

Nina: “I haven’t been totally honest with you, Eddie, but I, I don’t know how to be honest with you just yet, if that makes sense?”

Eddie: “Yea- No, not it doesn’t.” [Nina snorts laughing and he smiles] “Walk me through it.”

Nina: (struggling) “I, I don’t know how to do this.” [gripping the grass hard] “Okay, don’t look at me when I say this ‘cause it’s super embarrassing.” [Eddie raises his eyebrows, amused, and begrudgingly turns his back to her. When he’s facing away she nervously clears her throat and continues] “Okay, um, I really like you. And I-“ [Eddie tries to stifle his giggles] “Are you laughing right now?!” [Eddie bursts into laughter, cheeks hurting from smiling] “Are you seriously laughing at me? Eddie!”

Eddie: [trying to stop his laughter, turning back around] “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” [Eddie bursts into laughter again]

Nina: [gobsmacked, playfully hitting Eddie] “Eddie! What’s so funny?”

Eddie: “I don’t see what the problem is. I think it’s great that you like me. It’s a relief actually, ‘cause I-”

Nina: [running her hands through her hair, tugging at the roots] “It’s not great, Eddie! I’m gonna fuck your life up!” [Eddie frowns, looking at her confused, she sighs] “I’ve got too much baggage. You should be with someone, I don’t know, uncomplicated. I’ll drag your life down.”

Eddie: (amused) “Let me get this straight. You, Nina, think that I, Eddie, the one out of the two of us with an acquitted murder charge and history of being Hawkin’s devil worshipper and resident bad boy, should be with someone uncomplicated?” [Nina smiles and looks down, blushing] “I’m pretty confident I can handle complicated.”

Nina: “Can I be honest?”

Eddie: “Always.”

Nina: “I’m worried I’m going to hurt you.”

Eddie: [unsure] “Are you planning on hurting me?”

Nina: [frustrated] “‘No! Yes- I! Fuck, No of course I don’t want to hurt you, I never want to hurt you.” (sighing) “I’m just shit at this! And I’m terrified to want you in case I hurt you with all my baggage and bullshit-” [looking at Eddie, softening] “You’re so sweet Eddie and I don’t want you to-”

Eddie: [bravely] “Okay, shut up now.” [Nina looks at him, offended at being interrupted] “You’re doing your ‘rambling, talking out of your ass, nervous, overthinking, dark and twisty thing.” [Nina looks at him, surprised] “You like me.” [Nina blushes, looking at him warmly] “You actually like me.”

Nina: (softly, fond) “I do. I thought I made that obvious the other night.”

Eddie: (bravely) “And I like you. Like, a lot.” [Nina grins, palms sweating] “Okay, here it goes.” [he takes a deep breath and takes her hand] “I’ve liked you ever since I met you. And yeah, that scares the shit out of me too.” (honest) “I’m scared as hell to do this but I’m thinking, something or someone who makes me this happy is worth being a little scared over, right?” [Nina squeezes his hand] “We can just take it one day at a time, work it out together.” (nervously) “Right?”

Nina: (soft) “Right.”

Eddie: “Before I met you I felt like I was living the same day on repeat for months, years even. But now, I’m-“ (taking a deep breath, brave) “I’m excited to get up in the morning. I’m excited to see you, and to see what the day brings. I feel like the old me again- even better, I feel like the old me but a lot less cynical.” [Nina giggles and Eddie looks at her fondly] “All I know is you make my days better. I want to be with you.”

Nina: “Sure you don’t want to know what you’re getting yourself in for?” [laughing lightly, hiding her shame] “I had the whole ‘sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll’ thing going on for a while. It’s not pretty.”

Eddie: “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nina: [unsure] “I….”

Flashback - Last Summer / Joe’s Bar, California / Friday night

[Tommy, Ryan, Dylan, Ali and Nina are at Joe's Bar.

Tommy, Dylan and Ryan are sitting in a booth with the last of their drinks, talking loudly over the heavy music. Ali and Nina are dancing by the bar and talking to the bartender. Ali is forcing shots down Nina’s throat.]

Tommy: [looking at Nina stumbling at the bar] “Maybe it’s time we head home guys.”

Ryan: “Oh come on man, it’s barely past twelve! Don't be such a bore!”

Dylan: [sensing Tommy’s mood, looking at the bar, grimacing] “Maybe Tommy is right, it’s getting late.” [looking at Nina] “Nina’s wasted again.”

Ryan: [snorting] “It’s funny, she’s hammered.” [looking around at Dylan and Tommy’s unimpressed faces] “Oh come on guys! The night is young and so are we!” [grinning] “Besides, the way that bartender is eyeing Nina and Ali up, we could get a round of free drinks in.”

Dylan: [disgusted] “Nice Ryan, real nice.” [serious] “Are we not going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Ryan: (oblivious) “Huh?”

[Tommy shakes his head behind Ryan’s back, as if to say “don’t go there”, Dylan misses the cue.]

Dylan: “She’s black and blue again, someone’s gotta do something. We can’t go on pretending this is okay.”

Ryan: “She’s gonna end up flaming out at this rate. First she drops out of school, then she gets fired from her job, and now this?” [muttering to himself] “She’s gonna end up joining the 27 club nine years early.”

Tommy: [watching Nina and Ali protectively] “Where is she going?”

[Nina takes the hand of the bartender and walks to the bar toilets, Ali is watching in hysterics, egging her on.]

Ryan: “I’m guessing either getting blow or blowing the bartender. I’m gonna go with the first, but either way there’s definitely a lot of blowing going on.”

Dylan: [smacking Ryan’s head hard, he winces] “Don’t be such a pig.” [looking at Tommy, concerned] “Why do you care what Nina does? You’re not together anymore, right?”

Ryan: [rudely] “Yeah, why did that happen again?”

Tommy: [dismissive] “Just ‘cause we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I’m heartless.” [Annoyed] “I still care about her, we’re still friends.”

Ryan: “But why did you guys split up? Whenever we ask Nina she just shuts down about it.”

Dylan: [to Ryan] “Yeah, ‘cause you have the sensitivity of a cactus, you prick. You asked her in front of everyone! No wonder she didn’t want to say.”

Tommy: [guilty] “Can we just drop it, please?” [Nina exits the bathroom giggling, and heads outside for a smoke. Tommy slams his drink down, standing up, moody] “We’re going home.”

[Tommy heads outside after Nina. Nina is standing, barely, leaning on the brick wall, failing to light a cigarette]

Tommy: [gently] “Here.” [he lights her cigarette for her]

Nina: [smiling drunkenly] “Thanks.” [she rests her head on the wall and takes a deep inhale. Her ankle slips and she almost falls, but straightens. Tommy rushes to keep her upright] “I got it, I got it.” [she looks up at the sky, breathing deeply]

Tommy: “Look at me.” [Nina doesn’t look him in the eye, and smokes her cig] “Look at me, Nina.” [she stubbornly refuses, he grabs her face by the chin and looks in her eyes. Her eyes are dilated, irises barely visible.] “What have you taken?”

Nina: [avoidant] “Nothing.”

Tommy: [scoffing] “You’ve always been a shit liar.”

Nina: (small) “Coke.”

Tommy: “Seriously, Nina? From a random dude? What did you pay for that, huh?”

Nina: [defensive] “None of your damn business. I’m having fun, back off.”

Tommy: [sighing] “Jesus Christ, Nina.” [sitting on the bench] “You need to take care of yourself, you’re gonna end up hurting yourself. People are asking questions about your bruises.”

Nina: [to herself, tearing up] “I’m already hurt.”

Tommy: [frustrated] “And you think doing coke and fucking strangers in the bar bathroom is going to fix it?”

Nina: [laughing bitterly] “Probably not but it certainly won’t hurt.”

Tommy: “This isn’t you. What happened to the old Nina?”

Nina: [anger rising] “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it Tommy? The ‘fun’ girlfriend, the ‘you should stop moping around’ girlfriend, the ‘you should smile more’ girlfriend, well here I am Tommy!” [through gritted teeth and a forced smile, eyes foggy] “I’m having fun and I am smiling and I am ‘making the best out of a bad situation’ as you so lovingly put it, so you and my wonderful alcoholic mother and everyone else in this fucking town can all fuck off!”

Tommy: [softening, guilty] “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Nina: [laughing sadistically] “You know, if I had a dollar for every time someone said “I’m sorry” and “I didn’t mean it” to me, maybe then I’d have enough money to get the fuck out of here and away from all this bullshit!”

[Nina slumps to the floor, overwhelmed with emotions, and bursts into tears. Dylan, Ryan and Ali have joined them outside the bar. Ryan tries to hide his laughter at Nina’s inconsolable state and Ali sniggers. Dylan gives them a dirty look and walks to Nina’s side.]

Dylan: [softly] “Come on, let’s go.”

Nina: [broken] “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Dylan: “You can stay at mine again for a while, if you’d like?”

Nina: “I’m sorry, Dyl.”

[Dylan holds her hand and they walk away from the group. Tommy stands defeated, devastated. Ryan and Ali head back into the bar, oblivious. Dylan flips the group off as they walk down the path]

Dylan: “That’s what friends are for, Nina.”

[They walk in silence for a while down the street to Dylan’s flat.]

Nina: [sniffling, hopeful] “Did I tell you Lawrence High has accepted me to come back for my final year in September? I’ll finally be able to graduate.”

Dylan: “That’s great, Nina.”

Flashback over-

Nina: “I… I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about that yet. Baby steps.”

[Nina smiles as Eddie takes her hand and kisses the back of it]

Eddie: “You’ll tell me about it when you’re ready.” [Nina’s heart flutters.]

Nina: (joking) “You seem awfully certain about me despite not knowing my past, I could be an axe murderer or anything.”

Eddie: (fondly) “I have faith in you.” [Nina melts] “Besides, there’s only room for one murderer in this relationship.” [Nina giggles at his joke]

Nina: (Amused) “We really could be Hawkins’ Bonnie and Clyde.”

Eddie: [fist bumping her, grinning] “A real dream team.”

Nina: (happy, flirty) “Careful now, you might make me fall in love with you.”

Eddie: [grinning, so happy] “That’s the goal.”

[Nina leans over and aims to press a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. Eddie turns his head at the last minute, the two looking fondly at each other, -so in love- , before they kiss.

Eddie’s hand makes its way to cup Nina’s face, weaving through her hair, rubbing her cheek softly with his thumb. Nina sighs happily into the kiss. They pull away gently, smiling at eachother, foreheads resting on each others. ]

Eddie: “I can’t believe I’m kissing you.”

Nina: (softly, eyes fluttering) “Me too.”

Eddie: “Come on, I want to take you somewhere.”

Nina: “Really? It’s late? Where?”

Eddie: “Just trust me, you’ll like it.”

[Eddie stands up and reaches his hand out for Nina. She smiles and takes it, and they walk back to Eddie’s van. Eddie drives them to Lover’s Lake; both Eddie and Nina singing along to the music playing on the stereo - “I Just Want You by Ozzy Osbourne”. When they arrive, Eddie hops out the van first and runs around to Nina’s passenger side, opening the door for her with a bow. She blushes and takes his hand, and they walk hand in hand to the lake through the forest.]

Nina: (teasing) “So, is this our first date, Munson?”

Eddie: “Could be, if you want it to be.” [shy] “I kinda had something else planned.”

Nina: [excitedly, Eddie melts] “Really? What are we doing?”

Eddie: “It’s a surprise.” (Cooly) “Can go tomorrow, if you’re free.”

Nina: [smirking] “I’ll clear my schedule.” (Giddy) “Do I need to bring anything?”

Eddie: (coy) “Some sandwiches and snacks would be good.”

Nina: [excited] “We’re going on a picnic?”

Eddie: (grinning, fond) “Maybe.”

Nina: (softly) “That’s my dream date.”

Eddie: (shy) “I know, I asked Robin for some advice.”

Nina: “That is so sweet, I love it.” [he blushes as she kisses his hand] “Thank you Eddie.”

Eddie: “I’ll pick you up at 12 tomorrow.”

Nina: [looking around, excited] “So, where are we going now? Another secret spot?”

Eddie: (teasing) “God, so impatient.”

Nina: (pouting) “I wanna know!”

Eddie: [holding back a branch for Nina to navigate through the woods] “We’re nearly there, patience princess.”

Nina: [blushing hard from the nickname, submitting to Eddie’s will] “Fine, but only ‘cause you called me princess.” [Eddie winks at her]

[They finally come to the beach clearing, Nina gasps at the scene, smiling brightly, looking out at the twinkling water in the calm moonlight. The fireflies around them reflect on the water, mirroring the stars in the clear sky. It is peacefully quiet with the exception of the low hum of insects.]

Nina: “Wow.”

Eddie: “You like it?”

Nina: [taken aback] “It’s beautiful.”

Eddie: [cheesy] “Beautiful spot for a beautiful girl.”

Nina: [rolling her eyes] “So cheesy.”

Eddie: “Want to sit on the dock?”

Nina: “Sure.”

[They walk down the sand to the dock, sitting cross legged by the edge.]

Nina: “You’re not going to push me in, right?”

Eddie: [cheeky] “Yup, I planned this whole thing to get revenge for you pulling me in Steve’s pool.”

Nina: “Shut up.” (teasing) “I bet you bring all your girls, sorry, victims here.”

Eddie: (smiling) “Nope. Only you.”

Nina: (smiling too) “How sweet, I’m charmed. Consider me wooed.”

Eddie: (smug) “That was the plan.” [looking over the water] “Thought being by the water might calm you down. I know it’s not the beach but… We could come here when we get scared, y’know?” [Nina hums in agreement, Eddie looks out at the water, thoughtful] “This place brings back a lot of memories for me.” [Nina looks at him with concern, sensing Eddie’s shift in mood]

Nina: “I like it. It’s nice. Peaceful.” [lying back on the jetty, looking at the sky] “We don’t have to stay here if it’s hard for you.”

Eddie: “It’s okay.” [Eddie leans back on the jetty too, looking at Nina] “You’ve given it a new meaning now.”

Nina: (confused) “I have?”

Eddie: (cheeky) “Sure. It’s now your chillout spot, for when you need to escape the dark and twisties.” [looking at the water, shy] “This can be our safe place.”

Nina: (teasing) “You really are Eddie the Wise.” [taking his hand, resting her head on his shoulder] “Sounds like a plan, batman.” [thoughtful] “I think I ran past here once. Might have been when you kindly picked me up and I stormed off like a baby.”

Eddie: “It’s okay.”

Nina: “It’s not okay. You were being kind and I was a bitch. I’m sorry. I was just… having a bad day.”

Eddie: “Everyone has bad days. You’re allowed to lash out every once in a while.”

Nina: (frowning) “Not at you I’m not.”

Eddie: (smiling) “Rather it be me than anyone else. I can take it.”

Nina: [determined, frustrated] “But you shouldn’t have to take it.”

Eddie: [brushing the hair out of her eyes] “When are you going to get it into your head that I’m gonna be there for you regardless?” [Nina is taken aback] “I really like you Nina. You can slam as many doors in my face as you want, I’m always gonna come back.” [Nina’s lip quivers] “Not getting rid of me that easily. You’ve kinda got me whipped, if you didn’t realise.”

Nina: (uneasy) “This baggage I’ve got… It’s a lot. Like, people have left before because of it.”

Eddie: (cheeky) “Good thing I’ve got arms then.” [Nina giggles, Eddie carries on] “Have you seen these guns?” [Nina laughs now, snorting, Eddie looks at her fondly] “I can handle the baggage.”

Nina: (still cautious, her doubt unrelenting) “You’ll tell me if it gets too much?”

Eddie: “I’m a big boy, I’ll survive.”

Nina: [holding out her pinky to Eddie, smiling] “Pinky promise me?”

Eddie: [goofy smile] “Pinky promise.” [Nina leans over and presses a gentle kiss on Eddie’s lips.]

Nina: “Want to go in? The water looks nice.”

Eddie: (embarrassed) “I- I’m scared of deep water.” [rambling] “I was fine in Steve’s pool cause I could see the bottom, y’know, but lakes and stuff… freak me out a bit. Especially here.”

Nina: (reassuringly) “That’s okay, no judgement from me. We could put our feet in, if you’d like?”

Eddie: “Sure.”

[They pull off their shoes and dip their feet in the cool water. Nina looks out at the water happily, paddling her feet through the water, sighing contently. Eddie watches her fondly, and smiles when her hand rests on top of his. He takes a deep breath, feeling brave.]

Eddie: “I got my scars here.”

Nina: “You did?”

Eddie: “Mmhmm. Well, sort of.” [looking at Nina] “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

Nina: [smiling] “I’m good with crazy.”

Eddie: [smiling down at her, content] “I’m starting to think your crazy matches my crazy.”

A/N: Tumblr finally let me post this chapter!! Yay!!

Next chapter: Chapter 11 - Lay all your love on me

[tatortart]

tfw you’re unkillable by outside forces and get to celebrate another birthday with indulgent art of you and your fave turtle. Mikey’s just thrilled to be included as per always

just a li’l something to celebrate beating cancer this year! not completely out of the woods yet, but damn near close. I’m really grateful for getting back into the turtles when I did, as it gave me something to really grasp onto…compared to like, impending mortality lmao

feels good! :’) here’s to another year!

[catsandgoodbooks]

I have this random AU that I've been thinking about for a while but haven't really talked about before, so yeah. The base plot is just everyone trying to kill each other and failing, and then getting mad when someone actually succeeds, but we need some background information first.

Gods are real, and they are active participants in the world. Occasionally, they bless certain mortals with the ability to cheat death out of an honest desire for companionship, for someone that could understand. This is the traditional way to achieve immortality, the right way. This is how Phil got his immortality, and it's the way that George is heading towards.

Other gods have special chosen mortals, crusaders and champions of their names. Most are not granted the immortality that those who can charm a god are, or at least those can be killed, with extreme effort. Technoblade is the Blood God's champion, and is blessed with supernatural strength and prowess for it, as well as an extended lifetime. Still not quite immortal, but close.

Then there are those rare people who seek out gods to make deals, instead of the other way around. They offer something, and if it is enticing enough and if the god finds their courage amusing or admirable, they get the deal they want. Often, these include immortality.

DreamXD is one of the gods most open to this, as there is something material that he needs and can be offered. That is how both Punz and Foolish's pacts come from - offering to collect and feed him the souls he needs to survive, because gods can still die. Foolish ended up changing the terms of his deal as he settled down but kept his immortality - he can be killed, but XD will just bring him back. Punz still stays with the souls pact; they reap the souls they can and give them to XD, and grow stronger in exchange. For their devotion, XD has bestowed a special gift upon them - being able to suck the soul out of anyone they have skin-to-skin contact with if they have time and can concentrate enough. The proper immortals - i.e. Phil, Sam, Eret, and Foolish; George and Techno aren't quite there yet, even if they have the potiental - all know about this, but no one else does. However, most of them are not very thrilled about this ability and lead some to regard Punz with a bit more detachment and apprehensiveness, as it could cause the permanent death of a couple of them.

Not all immortality is granted by the gods. Some mortals go out and take it instead. Sam is one of these cases, having acquired his immortality through redstone and engineering and cloning. As long as the original body - the real Sam, the one version of himself he did not create - remains intact, Sam can just enter a new one whenever he dies, leaving him essentially unkillable unless someone knows where the original body is.

Not all ascensions are intended, or beautiful. Eret was once human, but their long, extended exposure to the corrupted otherworldliness through the wither cult has made them something...different. Maybe even eldritch. But either way, they can't really die, and that's enough for the others. Phil thinks they might be becoming a god. Callahan knows they're not.

Callahan is a minor god of forests and growth and all things hidden. He uses his power to try to stitch the world together again and again and again; the one thing that never changes is that it is always inches away from collapse, and Callahan doesn't know why. He wants to know why, but, until he does this is the best he can do. As is, he haunts the world like a ghost, there one moment and the next gone. He's...friendly with the once-mortals, he knows what they are and they know what he is, but that's about it.

So, with that over with, Technoblade tries to hunt Sam down post-Daedalus because he really doesn't want this guy to be alive any longer (considering the locked-Techno-in-prison thing and let-Techno's-friend-get tortured thing and the killed-Techno's-protege thing and the kidnapped-a-baby thing), and he ropes Phil into this. Phil knows that they can't actually kill Sam normally, but he's not a big fan of Sam either, so he calls Punz up to see if they can do anything about it. They can, so they show up and Techno immediately distrusts them but leaves when Phil tells him that it's fine and they can handle it.

Then Punz sucks Sam's soul out of his body, which is actually what Phil wanted them to do. After that, Punz decides to not give the millennia-old soul to XD or use it to strengthen themself, but to make a deal with XD to grant Dream that measure of immortality Punz themself has, with the soul as essentially a downpayment. When Phil finds out about this, he is not happy, primarily because he thinks that Dream is fucking evil and does not deserve that power. Punz then storms out, leaving Phil alone with his thoughts, while Punz goes to find Dream, who is, as one might assume, not doing well with his sudden, rushed ascension.

Oh, and Foolish is really really mad at Quackity because of how he's been treating Foolish, so I'm sure nothing bad will come out of that at all.

[naddpod-encounter-tourney]

Option 1:

Enemy: Yanoba and the Gnoll Posse

Episode: C1 E43: Feeding Time

Time: (ads) 1:06:00-2:10:54

Finish: Moonshine (Deeprag)

Notes: Several levels and different bridges of enemies. Deeprag's weapon had a bunch of abilities and status effects that took down Bev and Balnor at different moments. Many small enemies: the ultimate Naddpod villain. They're probably going to win and then the worm shows up, they get lucky with the worm a couple times. Then Moonshine rolls the worst nat 20 in history and gets swallowed followed by Hardwon's clutch nat 20 to save her. Poetic cinema.

Propaganda: (anonymous) Three different teams, all fighting each other at the same time. Hardwon wrestles the worm’s jaw open to pull Moonshine out after she almost gets DIGESTED. A cool roll mechanic Murph made for this encounter to decide who Yanoba would target and has not used since. And then a chase sequence at the end. It may not be a momentous boss fight, but it’s (in my opinion) the most thrilling and mechanically interesting regular fight of the campaign and really shows off Murph’s ability to make any combat at any phase of the game compelling and engaging throughout.

Option 2:

Enemy: Ring of Violence

Episode: C1 E82: Ring of Violence

Time: 17:33-1:33:13

Finish: Balnor (Zalek), Hardwon (Drisda, Illex)

Notes: Welcome to the encounter of the old foes you already killed and sent to hell but they're back and better than ever. There are levels and distances and they have to keep falling in order to save their friends. Deeprag is back and has a culty vibe with "husk mommy" (a new worm). Wyatt Montgomery shoes up and Hardwon softly says "I can't be a vampire again". The Hounds come close to killing Balnor again. Hardwon tricks Husk Mommy into killing Deeprag and Wyatt, saves a knocked out Moonshine, then jumps down to help Balnor and Bev.

Propaganda: (anonymous) There’s so much going on, but saving balnor, moonshine and Hardwon taking turns attracting the attention of the unkillable god enemy to save each other, killing the hounds again.

[taleswritten]

Talk to me about Wade in a BG3 setting please, gimmie the juicy lil details

Wade in BG3 is probably even more OP and insane. I write him as him getting there through magic because of marvel's whole multiverse thing.

Wade in BG3 would probably want to learn all the magic, if he learns said magic the things he would do with mage hand is both not PG and he would use it for pranks. On all the companions.

Being unkillable and riddled with sickness, I think it'd be funny if someone tried to inject a tadpole in him and that tadpole just....rejects him completely so he's like aw no fair :( all the other cool kids get them.

He thinks Karlach is a complete badass and would happily go to the hells for her.

He travels back and forth between timelines with the TVA thingy so he'd bring back all sorts of neat items for Karlach, including sweets and food they wouldn't have in Faerun.

The chances of Astarion trying to bite him is extremely low, no one wants cancer blood and the vamp can likely smell it on him.

Lae'zel would probably kill him once and then when it doesn't work she's fascinated.

He'd annoy the hell out of Gale. Or maybe not? Gale may be thrilled to teach someone magic, no matter how annoying Deadpool is.

He'd tease the hell out of Wyll. ooo fancy pants blade of frontiers. you can be blade of my fr-

He still very much uses his katanas but with so many weapons to get his hands on, I don't see him being proficient in just one thing. Wade is a fourth wall breaker, he doesn't have to play by the rules of d&d, dude out here using anything and everything to fight.

Lots of references to his world no one understands. He calls one of the boys 'Daddy' once and it confuses the fuck out of them.

i could literally go on and on

[raspberrysmoon]

mmmmayhaps sheila?

ive typed this once. if this fcuks up again ill kill tumblr. this is. 1/10 of the info i have for her so. yeag 👍

so, sheilas immortal. unkillable, actually. only the lords can kill her. webby can't. they dont have any reason to kill her anymore. shes not doing any real harm, you know?

she didnt grow up in hatchetfield. she was born in 1837 (currently 184) and left for hatchetfield at 32.

sheila has four kids. two unnamed, who from 1862-1870 and 1897-1945 respectively. she had marilyn in 1950, who's 71 in canon, and sherman in 1980. hes 41.

she made her deal the day she got to hatchetfield. she was 33.

sheila genuinely doesnt have much going on right now. sherman is with frank most of the time (if not all the time) and she doesnt like animals or other townsfolk. she just sits around sending letters back and forth with her granddaughter, florence schaffer.

definitely kills for fun. she likes the thrill. she likes fair rides for this same reason.

sheila is currently not plagued with much. she gets migranes sometimes, and faints on occasion, but its nothing life altering.

she is around a level four naturally. her deal bumped her up to an eight. this chart will be explained later, but shes on-level with uncle wiley and miss holloway, above hannah foster and below lumberaxe.

this is. very little info about her in the grand scheme of it. sheila is peips main eyes into hatchetfield while theyre understaffed, and holds them to a very high respect.

my door is always open to you all, she tells them. i have rooms available now that shermans moved on.

[yakourinka]

emperor's thrilling saga:

years ago emperor had a squirrel-hamster thing (called a musbeast) for a pet that he loved dearly.

after it passed away he got into the habit of getting melancholy drunk and listening to blues around the time it died. texas seems to be the only penguin logistics member aware of this, probably because texas is the only person in there who would approach anything with some solemnity.

emperor is not afraid of "that biznatch" wei yenwu. in fact, I personally think that wei yenwu should be afraid of him, given that emperor seems to be an unkillable penguin, which is scary.

emperor makes penguin logistics employees work overtime and endorses it as "fun." notably, his bar is gaudily decorated in gold.

finally, emperor adopts another musbeast - "mini-man" - and the two drop bars to sickest beats together. I think emperor bonded with this one particularly because it chewed on his limited edition record, which shows that the critter has good taste in music.

[liliallowed]

like they know death is coming. that they're way past the point of return.

so they embrace it! they embrace the futility and LIVE like it's the last day everyday in the loop. they're insane. definitely insane even more so than dust. they're obsessed... but they're free in their own way.

no morals nothing to hold them back they can just indulge in action and thrill of the chase.

they're a dead man walking. there's a death warrant on them no matter the world game or future path they choose.

might aswell make it count.

so like I've been thinking of developing crimson in starrail too.

specially fates defiance and the hunts decree over the unkillable (that applies to crimson lol)

I'm pretty sure crimson is going to treat lan like: oooooh so you're the dusty bones of this world!

*cue Lans confusion.

no wait isn't Acheron more similar hmmm

*cue Acheron confusion.

boothill is me but WITH dust's role...

*boothill flipping them off.

listen wait you damned turn your turns I can't JUGGLE ALL OF YOU AT ONCE. I'm may be poly-murderous but please!

*collective confusion*

you know? polyamory bit murder.

[revolver-d]

What if Black Pearl encounter a creature that regenerates from anything (immortal-like) that also ate gemstones?

I mean, I don't really do VS stuffs and things...

but while Black Pearl enjoys violence and pain bacause it's the only thrill she can get, at the same time she doesn't really like wasting time on something pointless so, if this creature is unkillable, she would disengage and walk off soon enough.