#companion all just doesn't work for ne

[chrimsone]

sjsodidjei3ndofjr I love Still Hunt's lore!! We just don't get Cayde's inner thoughts at all outside of these moments, and he still keeps a lighthearted persona for others

Even after everything, he still has to shield himself emotionally :(

[jellyveesh]

oh, paw-lease!

fandom ## hazbin hotel (dog-sinner reader)

characters ## charlie morningstar, vaggie, alastor, angel-dust, husker, lucifer morningstar

prompt ## it would seem a new sinner has arrived at the hotel, sporting a set of bouncy ears and an eagerly swaying tail. how will this new canine companion fit into the dynamics of the hazbin hotel?

contains ## SHOW SPOILERS, gender-neutral reader, canon-typical character behaviours/habits, reader is annoyingly bubbly but in a puppy-dog way, reader is gen z, no one in this show is morally good (obviously), NO ROMANCE, autistic-coded lucifer, fan theories are used, stereotypical 'dog' characteristics, brief mention of valentino (cringe)

masterlist part two potential - open to writing for more characters

when you first arrived at the hotel, you were pretty much fresh-meat in hell, and definitely of a different generational variety to the other residents (much to their confusion and mutual horror).

charlie welcomes you to the hotel with open arms and a huge smile - and everyone is blinded by the two balls of sunshine chatting happily in the doorway. vaggie convinces her to let you in, and you settle into the hotel extremely well.

you get along well with everyone... well, nearly everyone!

CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR

for obvious reasons, charlie adores you - your bubbly nature sharply contrasts the mellowed nature of husker, the over-the-top nature of nifty and the sneakiness that alastor maintains

but charlie isn't stupid and she obviously knows you're down here for one sinful reason or another, so she doesn't think you're harmless...

no matter how much that fluffy tail thumps against the floor, YOU ARE NOT HARMLESS

she enjoys using you as the focus point of redemption exercises - mainly because most of the residents like/are indifferent to you, and you just like everyone

planned a group fetch session one time, ended up with you passed out in the entryway the second they entered the hotel

you are her therapy dog sinner at this point, whenever she feels like she's bordering a panic attack you just poof magically appear and comfort her - using some very interesting jokes (gen z humour is honestly more traumatising than comforting, but it works in charlie's case), and allowing her to play with your tail and ears.

bought you tons of squeaky toys...

overall, is extremely happy you arrived at the hotel, and wouldn't change you for the world

VAGGIE

vaggie enjoys your presence - especially considering you seem to be about as sane as you can be, considering you're in hell and you're a sinner

like, she can have an intelligent conversation with you and then NOT feel the sudden urge to smash her head into the nearest wall (*cough* alastor *cough*)

you're her excuse to get out of the hotel, even if it's for five minutes

"i need to walk the dog" type excuse - you go along with it, because like... who doesn't enjoy walks?

despite you being a sinner, you have a lot of dog features - it's honestly hard to tell you were ever even human once upon a time, under all that fluff and fur - and you LOVE those shitty little squeaky dog toys

vaggie hates those squeaky dog toys

definitely hides them around the hotel so you can't find them

too bad you've got a sensitive sniffer and find them everytime

you stayed outside hers and charlie's room the first time she hid them, obnoxiously squeaking the toy just to be petty and kept her awake

now you just enjoy it looking for the toys, it's like a game

overall, vaggie enjoys your company - you can be very energetic and sometimes overwhelming, but you can be equally as soft and silent

she thinks she wouldn't mind you hanging around for a little while longer

ALASTOR

alastor can't stand you.

you're a dog, he HATES dogs - for many obvious reasons, of course

not that you've explicitly done anything to him, so he tolerates you - just keep an adequate distance between the two of you, and you'll be just peachy

overtime, you become accustomed to the fact that alastor will probably never like you - and you definitively become softer around him in order to accommodate to his needs

you don't necessarily know WHY he doesn't like you, but the way his eyes shift tell you that he's uncomfortable

you soften your tone of voice, make all of your movements extremely predictable and slow, and make sure to keep your pesky tail in check

overtime, this 'submissive' tactic (it's not really, but it's better to say that than to say alastor is fearful of this cheery little puppy) begins to break down alastor's carefully crafted walls

the first breakthrough was when alastor invited you to go to the library with him - you had to physically hold your tail down as it began wagging excitedly

you guys sat in the library for hours, mere inches apart from each other - your tail softly thumping against the couch, and the soft static of alastor's radio filling the air as you both read your respective books

you guys cook together (more like he cooks and you just watch excitedly, having no thoughts behind those beady puppy-dog eyes) - you have so many questions, and he answers each one with endless patience, and tells you you're a 'good dog' whenever you hand him a kitchen tool he needs

you love being called a good dog :3

overall, he's not used to you yet - but he's getting there

complete avoidance has turned into greetings, light touches here and there, and invitations to join him in his endeavours

i'd say that's a job well done

ANGEL DUST

angel had a temporary urge to taint your giddiness - it didn't last long, but long enough that the guilt of it eats him alive most days

but he adores you, and you quickly become fast friends - you act as an escape from his job, your personality so contrasting from his day-to-day

angel buys you tons of cute outfits, most of which contain chokers or pendants after you expressed that you used to wear them when you were alive - and wearing them brings you a strange sense of comfort

definitely got you a charm that said 'if lost, call angel dust xxx-xxx' and hooked it onto a little doggy collar as a gag gift

you still wore it though, and he just became absolute putty at the way your tail wagged

angel sometimes wakes up to you curled up at his side, with fat nuggets mirroring you on his other side - he doesn't mind, he actually loves the fact that he's your first comfort-call

no one snitch, but he wraps all of his arms around you and your tail thumps softly against the comforter in your sleep

in regards to angel's job, you're extremely understanding - hell is hell, and people get by in different ways

but you are FIERCELY protective of your newly found friend

in the episode where angel stands up to valentino for nifty's sake, you are trembling at husker's side - not out of fear, but out of pure anger and the desire to protect your own

however, when valentino lays hands on your precious friend? you're between them in seconds, teeth bared, ears flat against your scalp and low rumbling growls coming from your mouth

you make it very apparent you are no bark and all bite when valentino tries to bypass you to approach angel, snapping your jaws at him, and watch with mixed triumph and disgust as the moth-man scoffs and turns away

as soon as valentino is no longer in 'threat' distance, you turn to help angel to his feet - no words needed, and simply pressed your cold snout to his cheek as you felt his trembling hands in yours

from that day onwards, you pick angel up from work everyday without fail - even if it means sprinting across pentagram city just to get there on time

your consistent presence discourages valentino from keeping angel overnight, which fills you with pride - at least you rattled the fugly moth during your last encounter

overall, you're best friends - angel would burn the world for you, and you'd do the same for him, and that mutual respect for one another makes you a force to be reckoned with

you'd be surprised at how downright dirty the 'innocent' little pup could get when with the spider

HUSKER

frenemies through and through - but it's more like one-sided frenemies, because you simply have no enemies (except valentino. fuck you valentino.)

you and husker were not close AT ALL when you first arrived at the hotel, and instead opted for the stereotypical dog-cat relationship... a relationship built on pure contempt just for each others species, and spent a good portion of the first few days growling and hissing at one another

so, how did you two become fast friends considering your clear hate?

you.

you did the one thing that proved to husker you understood how cats functioned...

you brought him a mouse!

a dead one. a dead hell mouse.

now, to everyone else in the hotel, the display was disgusting - and several of them scrambled away from the bar with shrill screams - but, to husker, it was a sign of peace

and, from that point onwards, you became friends

that's literally it

husker wouldn't mention it to anyone, but he is an absolute cuddle bug - and having you, someone with no regard for personal space, around and jumping into hugs actually soothed his stolen soul

oftentimes, you two are found comfortably lounging on the couch - limps tangled together (and tails coiled around each others)

the two of you have a habit of falling into your more animalistic urges when it's just the two of you - so mutual grooming is not uncommon, and you've woken up several times to husker's tongue dragging across your head

he definitely pretends it doesn't happen after, but you both know

you make sure to return the favour, much to his distress - considering you just kind of... slobber, everywhere

when you two fight though it's actually vicious - biting, scratching, clawing, etc. absolutely scaring the hell out of everyone

but then after like two minutes you two are like "well, that was fun!"

husker is ultimately more playful in your presence, but he's still grumpy and if he asks you to go away - you will listen, because you understand not everyday is a cuddle day

overall, husker hate-loves you - you're a solid consistent in his day-to-day afterlife now, and he can actively become more relaxed with you around... and whilst that's why he loves you, it's also why he hates you, because you make him weak

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

lucifer has definitely hyperfixated on several animals during all of his years in heaven and hell - so i have no doubt he hyperfixated on dogs, or some kind of canine, at one point

and you're about as humanoid-ly doggy as it gets, or as humanoid-ly doggy as he's seen

and when you show interest in his hyperfixation on ducks, you instantly become his new favourite sinner at the hotel - although you enjoy ducks simply for dog-related reasons, you also enjoy how happy lucifer seems to get when speaking about them

you make a note to yourself to never harm another duck in your entire afterlife

with lucifer being autistic, and you seemingly having adhd qualities, you perfectly compliment each other

your friendship is the definition of "he asked for no pickles" with a tiny lucifer all teary eyed in the background

after lilith left, lucifer has had difficulty in maintaining his wings - and, much to his displeasure, you walked in on him trying to preen them, and struggling to reach the harder to get places

i mean, he has 6 wings, i wouldn't look after them either

but when you offer to help, he melts - guiding and directing you on what to do and what not to do, smiling adoringly at the look of concentration on your face and the way you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth

as a reward, he preens you in return, expressing his thanks through the subtle gesture

preening is a sign of affection with birds, and i feel he would give into those mannerisms the more he hyperfixates on ducks

overall, lucifer absolutely adores you - and although the goal for the hotel is to redeem sinners, he lowkey hopes you're never redeemed

he'd simply miss you too much

and he definitely treats you like a little kid sometimes (theoretically, you are the youngest, generationally...)

[darklinaforever]

It is normal that all the references to Rose exist in the DW series after season 4.

Without her, the Doctor would probably not be what he is today. And she is also the greatest love he had. He can't forget her. He will always love her unconditionally.

But past Ten, it's (for me and much of the fandom) platonic.

Yes, we see that the Doctor retains his feelings even beyond regenerations. Ne 9 to 10 for Rose. From 11 to 12 for Clara. From 10 to 14 for Donna.

But what many forget once again for Ten's love for Rose is that these were not feelings acquired purely normally like with Nine or Ten with the friendships he made. Ten's romantic love for Rose wasn't just a feeling, it was the core of his identity. What made him who he was.

The regeneration of Ten into Eleven is summed up like this : All that I am dies, a new man arrives.

If everything Ten is dies, knowing that the core of who he is is his romantic love for Rose, well it makes sense that that romantic love dies with him and he becomes a new man through Eleven.

Does Eleven remember Rose ? Yes. Is it still as important ? Yes. Does he still love her ? Yes. Is he still in love with her ? No.

This is not possible with the way the regeneration of 10 was handled.

Some of you refuse to understand that regeneration can be completely influenced by the Time Lord unconsciously or consciously. If Ten saw regeneration as death, she did the work to be the equivalent.

And if everything that made Ten who he was died with his romantic love for Rose being the core of his identity, well it died with him.

And there's nothing in the rest of the series to prove that the Doctor is still in love with Rose whether you like it or not (even if you are free to believe it, but do not impose this vision on others).

The Moment taking the form of Rose each time he speaks to the Doctor, Eleven's subtle reaction upon hearing the title Bad Wolf, the reference from Jack to Rose when he speaks to 13's companions, with her nearby, Rose Noble calling herself Rose, 15 saying she loved Rose in the past tense. All this does not prove that the Doctor is still in love with Rose currently (Besides, the dialogue with 15 is rather clear on this...).

It just drives home the obvious that Rose was the most impactful companion for the Doctor / in his life. Which is the truth.

Moreover, the other fundamental aspect of the 10th Doctor's identity is to love humanity to the point of wanting to become human. Knowing that this renewed love for humanity comes from Rose, therefore linking his desire to be human also to Rose... Have you seen the Doctor after his tenth incarnation wanting to be human again ? The answer is obviously no.

And no, I will never consider Moffat's words as the absolute truth. Even if he says that Eleven is still in love with Rose, it doesn't matter to me. For what ? Because there's a rule in film / TV called show don't tell. Moffat says, but doesn't show. Worse, he says it in an interview, not even in the series. And not everyone reads interviews. I heard that once he even said that the Doctor would find River on the moon once he died. Something else that was never even hinted at in the series. Who really believes this shit will ever happen ? It's ridiculous. It's the same guy who wrote the episode about madame de pompadour dammit... As if I was going to take his opinion into consideration.

[spidercatenthusiast]

For the KC Ask Game: 3, 12, 26?

thanks so much for asking!!

3. Who is/are their best friend(s) among companions and why?

answered here:

12. What is their alignment, and why? How do they feel about it? Do they change alignment at one point?

Mordren starts off at CN, mostly on account of being a Gyronna worshiper, and not at CE from the start because she's not knowledgeable enough about Gyronna to know what that actually entails. She shifts to CE right around mid-Act 3, but in her eyes, she hasn't reached proper awful until early Act 5. She's wrong.

Tamarie's kind of the opposite, CG all the way through, she wouldn't put herself there until Act 4 and the Fleshmarkets fight, but it's always been in the core of her being that she won't stop trying for people.

Cernan starts off at LE, which is pretty deserved, they're more Torture-ee Kuthite than Torturer Kuthite, but they've also killed people who definitely did not have it coming for the sake of their cult. In Act 5 they shift to NE as they start getting detached from Aeon stuff and Zon-Kuthon stuff, getting generally more live and let live, but still willing to do a lot without any huge regrets.

26. Did they separate from any companions? Why? (Consider killing a companion too for this question)

ohhh Mordren loses so many people

- Ulbrig gets killed during his crisis conversation after the party leaves the Abyss, he spent almost all of his time in the party getting on Mordren's bad side

- Arueshalae leaves when Mordren doesn't go with Legend path

- Regill and the entire Hellknight outpost are killed when the court martial goes sour almost immediately

- Mordren takes Camellia tricking her very personally, but they work it out the way that friends do (polar ray)

- Ember occupies one of the rapidly diminishing soft spots in Mordren's heart, so after kinda-sorta traumatizing her a little bit by eating the Hand of the Inheritor's heart in front of her, she gets sent back to Mendev with a small fortune

- She lets Nenio become nothing at the end of her quest

- Sosiel and Seelah are dismissed after the standoff with Galfrey

so at the end of the game she's got Daeran, Greybor, Woljif, Wenduag, and Lann, whose life she just up and ruins by doing this:

so he's in the party but he's definitely not having fun.

Tamarie never really "has" Lann past the prologue, but he dies during Wendu's act 3 quest when she can't convince him to join and Wendu kills him, whiiiiich kinda fucks her up a little bit. A lot. She also ends up getting betrayed by Greybor who, unlike Wenduag, does not have "I am sensing victimhood here and would undergo any amount of personal suffering to see it alleviated" benefits, so he ends up dying there.

Cernan doesn't lose anybody, and they're not a very restrictive sort about who they can fight with, so they hold onto people like Camellia, fallen!Arue, killedliotrlol!Daeran, etc pretty easily, without really pissing off anyone (for every 7 Charisma moment there is an equal and opposite 20+ Wisdom moment). All of their companions come out alive but definitely not intact, so their ending slides were kind of a horror show, especially for Seelah and Ember.

[paperanddice]

Arboreal grapplers are malformed creations, twisted by some god into monstrous killers. They look somewhat like orangutans, except their limbs are stretched out into long, muscular tentacles, with bright red fur instead of the dull orange most orangutans have. They are exceptionally agile and strong climbers, using their long limbs to grasp on and pull quickly through branches and foliage, but are slow and clumsy on the ground.

Their creator poured a hatred for humanoids into their instincts, in particular elves. Families of arboreal grapplers will hunt elves aggressively, even invading settlements, grabbing vulnerable targets with their long limbs and dragging them into the canopy above to constrict them until they stop struggling. Many of these victims are eaten, but if given an opportunity the grapplers will wipe out entire groups even if they don't need any more food. Their drive to kill doesn't seem to extend to animals or most monsters; while they'll eat most creatures they can kill, only humanoids are purposefully murdered.

Legend says that a pixie that loses its joyful nature may trade its pixie dust for the cruel magic of the aridni. Sometimes known as slaver pixies for their tendency to capture humanoids for other fey, these small fey have moth wings and can enchant their arrows with a lightless green fire that carries additional effects. These arrows can put creatures to sleep, like regular pixies, but also may strike fear, muddle the mind, or drive the target to helpless laughter. Aridni exhibit a deep hatred for anyone who is not fey, hunting, stealing from, or capturing such people. They particularly delight in stealing from dwarves, but will vent their dislike on just about anyone. Only fey related beings may be granted a pass by the slaver pixies, but any travelling with non-fey will be given a choice: turn on their companions, or forfeit the protection granted by their fey blood.

Originally from the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Foul creations of Lamashtu, arboreal grapplers hunt the fringes of Kyonin, in particular the Tanglebrier, home of the demon Treerazor. While they don't actively align themselves with the rival demon lord, their shared hatred of elves means they somewhat align. They may also be found in any of the deep forests of Golarion, some aligned with the demon lord Angazhan rather than Lamashtu.

Arboreal Grappler Creature 3 NE Medium Aberration Perception +7; darkvision Skills Acrobatics +10, Athletics +10, Stealth +10 Str +3, Dex +3, Con +3, Int -2, Wis +0, Cha -2 AC 18; Fort +10, Ref +10, Will +7 HP 42 Speed 10 feet, climb 40 feet Melee bite +10, Damage 1d10+5 piercing Melee tentacle +10 (reach 10 feet), Damage 1d6+5 bludgeoning plus Grab Boscage Brachiation The arborial grappler doesn't trigger reactions when it Climbs. Constrict [one action] 1d8+3 bludgeoning, DC 18 Drag [one action] The aborial grappler Climbs up to its speed, pulling any Medium or smaller creatures it has grabbed with it.

Aridni Creature 5 NE Small Fey Perception +9; low-light vision Languages Aklo, Common, Sylvan Skills Acrobatics +14, Stealth +14 Str -1, Dex +5, Con +2, Int +1, Wis +0, Cha +3 Items pixie bow (20 arrows), shortsword AC 22; Fort +9, Ref +14, Will +9; +1 status to all saves against magic HP 62 Speed 20 feet, fly 60 feet Melee shortsword +12 (agile, finesse, versatile S), Damage 1d6+3 piercing Ranged pixie bow +16 (deadly d10, range increment 60 feet, reload 0), Damage 2d6+4 piercing Primal Innate Spells DC 18 ; 2nd faerie fire, invisibility; 1st charm (×3); cantrips (3rd) dancing lights, detect magic Enchanted Arrows [one action] (enchantment, mental, primal) The next attack the aridni makes before the end of its turn gains an additional effect. On a hit, the target must attempt a DC 18 Will saving throw. On a failure, the target suffers one of the following additional effects, chosen when the aridni uses this action: Confusion (emotion): The target is confused for 2d4 rounds. Fear (emotion, fear): The target becomes Frightened 4. This action gains the Fear trait. Hideous Laughter (emotion): The target is slowed 1 and can't use reactions for 2d4 rounds. Sleep (incapacitation, sleep): The target falls asleep for 2d4 rounds. It wakes up if it takes any damage.

13th Age

Arboreal Grappler  2nd level troop [aberration]  Initiative: +8 Bite +7 vs. AC - 7 damage. Tentacle +7 vs. AC (can target nearby enemies) - 5 damage. Natural Even Hit: The target pops free from each enemy and moves next to the grappler, which engages and grabs it. It can hold up to two creatures at once. Boscage Brachiation: The arboreal grappler doesn’t provoke opportunity attacks while climbing. AC 17 PD 15 MD 14 HP 38

Aridni seem to share some allegiance with the Elf Queen, though her recent (a few hundred years is certainly recent for many fey) choice to seek peace and community with other people, in particular dwarves, has driven a wedge into that allegiance. While most aridni bite down their anger and continue to follow her, a growing number are breaking off and going independent, hunting non-elves with furious passion.

Aridni  4th level spoiler [humanoid]  Initiative: +13 Bronze Sword +8 vs. AC - 10 damage. R: Stolen Pixie Bow +10 vs. AC (one nearby enemy, or a far away enemy at -2) 12 damage. Natural 14+: Roll a d4 and apply the following effect to the target; 1: the target is confused until the end of its next turn. 2: The target is dazed and doesn’t add the escalation die to its attacks until the end of its next turn. 3: The target stunned until the end of its next turn. 4: The target is asleep (save ends). It automatically wakes up if it takes damage, or if a creature uses an action to shake it awake. Flight. Flyby: The aridni gains a +5 bonus to disengage checks while flying. AC 21 PD 14 MD 17 HP 44

[player-1]

Me, just minding my own business w. work and stuff, haven't touch Nexomon Extinction in about two weeks: .... Old NE fandom: Why the heck does Byeol exist? Is it a joke Tyrant or what? My brain, already in the death grip of the "Metta became a Fakemon Matrix god in N3" theory: -YOU FOOL, Metta made it out of spite! Why else would an "harmless" Tyrant seem so unnerving!? He's coming back in Nexomon 3 and it's with a vengeance!!!

(Mini-major rant below, plus spoilers)

For a bit of a refresher, I'm going to go scorched earth on this freak (but in a good way), and maybe even dabble on the Abyssal Tyrants.

Style and name-wise, Byeol doesn't seem too bad (its name is literally the Korean word for star (별)). Unfortunately, it only appears post-story in Palmaya, so it doesn't serve any importance in the current lore of N:E. But of course, it seems too cheap to make such an unassuming Tyrant appear in the game's Safari Zone, so out of simple curiosity I first did a bit of sleuthing on what Byeol means as a normal name (myfirstname.rocks) and...

"Byeol is a name that signifies a freedom-loving and free-spirited individual. Nothing is conventional with your love of change and adventure...Your heart’s desire is to settle conflicts and create harmony. Natural born peacemaker and a spiritual idealist are some of the words that describe you. You specialize in religion, philosophy, and less traditional forms of healing. The quest for enlightenment is one of your life-long pursuits."

Ah yes, the religious allegories...It makes sense since it has the star seat-thing, but what about the angel symbo-

Okay...It seems to be a reasonable speculation...So why does it appear in Palmaya of all places? Lore-wise, Palmaya's the only place where "no Tyrants appear". Here's why I now think that's a load of bull:

-In Nexomon 1, Palmaya was originally controlled by Merida/Arqua (5th Child of Omnicron), but was eventually destroyed in both a shoddy volleyball match and later during NexoLord/Metta's attempt at reviving Omnicron. -Some undetermined time before Nexomon Extinction, Merida buries her shrine/tomb in Palmaya, giving her free reign to explore the world in contrast to her spirit-bound siblings (and in comparison to Deena/Nara); the first time the MC Luke (HC name from the official prologue, btw) meet Merida at Omnicron's Tower/Tomb in the Frozen Tundra, instructing the player in flushing out the Nexolords cult and stop their attempt to "revive" Omnicron for a third (and obviously impossible) time. -And even some more time before the main story, the Guild hunt down the mysterious Abyssal Tyrants, quickly popping up and attacking just after Omnicron's death in a strangely unorthodox fashion. One of the Abyssals, Pluvean, appeared in Palmaya and was quickly slain as soon as it appeared; and in the Abyssal DLC, Pluvean himself says that his "goal" was to be destroyed by the Guild and "To bring the world's eyes upon myself". And here's the residents of Palmaya like "Haha, Palmaya's a great place! There's no Tyrants here, no siree! 🙃"

So now with the added lore of the Abyssal Tyrants, what's so important about Byeol besides it being so unassuming and harmless? Oh you know...That's what you're supposed to believe as well...

There's a rule of thumb in recent animes with cute and unassuming animal companions (like Kyubey): The cuter a mascot is, the more dangerous it is under the surface. And once I got into the theory of Metta playing around with the meta of the game (heh), the idea of Metta creating Byeol made more and more sense to me. -Both Byeol and Metta are based on unconventional angels (nonhuman, biblically-accurate messengers of God, "normal", etc) -Byeol may represent Metta's ideology of being "the star" of Nexomon 1 as the main antagonist (before Omnicron), being the "star of the show" as NexoLord, and/or representing his inflated ego as the "favorite" child despite being the youngest out of seven siblings. -With the added meta-narrative of Metta practically being wiped from existence in N:E, the main lore for Tyrants existing is because the Renegades find a Tyrant egg and hatch it from a Primordial Tyrant shrine of their choosing, so a Normal-type Tyrant should've been out of the question here...But here it is, just vibing in the one place that boasts about being Tyrant-free. [Added bonus that post-game, this is where the player finds Volta, a Greater Drake that specializes in "having no fixed location and keeps Tyrants from having a safe place to hide", but Lydia confirms that Palmaya is where he "seems fond of this area"...]

With my previous analysis/meme about Metta "mastering the art of resurrecting the dead", it wasn't too out there to assume that Metta was also the mysterious creator of the Abyssals as well; giving them certain tasks that seem unusual/unpredictable at the time, and letting Venefelis take the job of constantly reviving them in order to wear down Luke & the PTs for a thousand+ years to come...And who's to assume that the main element Abyssals are also based on Metta's interpretation of his siblings as well?

The similarities seem uncanny sure, (minus Inominox and Volcel; they fit personality/goal-wise), but the one outlier is...You guess it, Pluvean and Arqua. Arqua is typically known to be extremely temperamental and was once feared by many in Palmaya for sinking ships for fun...Pluvean was supposed to serve as cannon-fodder and completed his mission of going down without a fight. So why the contrast? What about the other Abyssals? Venefelis and Kroma (Psychic and Ghost respectively) are more of a wild card in the grand scheme of things, and their goals serve more of a greater threat to MC and the Primordial Tyrants in general. But now consider the Normal-type Abyssal Caelesa compared to its "inspiration" Metta:

Totally night and day here, right?...Now what about its description? "Caelesa was an Abyssal Tyrant that raced across the continent, making it exceptionally difficult to hunt down. Whether it was chasing a target or running from something, the Guild could never find out." And above all else, Caelesa has more physical similarities to Byeol here...Then it hit me right then and there:

THEY👏ARE👏DISTRACTIONS👏FROM👏METTA!!! The same thing obviously applies for the other Abyssals up until Nexomon 3, but Byeol and Caelesa serve absolutely no purpose in being a threat to the Guild or humans in general. They're both silent observers, letting their lackeys do most of the dirty work and wear their opponents down...Sounds familiar? Yeah yeah, I know, now why does that apply to Palmaya here? In a way for Metta to pull the strings in his ultimate plans, perhaps letting Arqua bury her shrine and relocate to the Frozen Tundra gave him the chance to watch everything from the background without having to lift a finger; and even giving a better explanation on why the Water-type Tyrant Nivalis is aesthetically Ice type too. Setting the sacrificial lamb Pluvean loose in Palmaya also reaffirms the stance that it's the only place where a Tyrant won't set foot in and serves as another safe space for humans to live at (besides Parum City).

And it's not like Metta is entirely innocent either. If the greatest threat of Nexomon 3 is the meta itself, then he's just winding up the bat on how much power he really has over the game itself. That one out-of-pocket scene during the Orphanage hostage mission, completely erasing his existence from both his siblings and the Nexomon 1 main character, a (possible) time loop scenario before the endgame fight w. Vados, and absolutely everything about the Abyssals just screams at me that Metta's coming back with a vengeance to reclaim Omnicron's throne as the true heir. And even if it isn't officially shown in the story, I'm pretty sure Luke would have some serious mental issues if he's the only one aware of these circumstances, especially when he's the target to all of them. Metta's absolutely willing to play the long game here, and harassing Luke with the debilitating power of Meta™ and the surefire fact that there should be one more Child of Omnicron they need to worry about would do plenty of bad things to him...

So for now, Byeol served as the pre-Abyssal warning that, like the cherubim, serves as the chariot to God's terrifying and vengeful arrival. Whatever Nexomon 3 has in store, I'm more than ready for the tasseled bowling ball to get the spotlight he deserves again.

TL:DR Metta's game plan before Luke accidentally revived the Abyssals:

[darkdansdarkestdays]

"In search of a female virgin, huh?" I assume that's your work as well? Fucking hilarious. Damn, must I be constantly tortured by these stinging examples of the caliber of woman that has forbidden my mere ATTEMPT to position myself to one day act as a companion...jeez beauty, brains, and don't forget, folks, she's also a laugh a minute.....the trifecta, right? I must confess, though, to being slightly confused as I first assumed you had become angry with me for something I had said that you deemed "disrespectful" but, if you were the driving force behind the dating app stuff, that indicates something different entirely. Be that as it may, I feel much better than earlier. While I would like for you to speak to and treat me like a friend (cuz even though I can't really say we were, as I'll demonstrate, and as you know...not every piece of everything in this year's long game, of sorts, was my doing. Wanna disagree? I don't know what your memory status is these days-i am guessing fine, but read on) and sit down and speak to me.....or, at least do so on the phone, but give up forever on attempting to see that desire come to it's fruition. I am not going to begin my long promised summary of the occasional weird ass happenings related to you that continued occurring, very infrequently, over a period of years despite absolutely nothing seemingly being positioned to have prompted them, but will refer you, briefly, to an miniscule incident that immediately followed what was easily my least favorite of the 4 "events" that I can recall....I suppose I have to take the lion's share of the blame for the fact that you will never want to be my friend....But, it was this incident that, in all likelihood, kept us from ever getting together...in fact, you blocking me from every piece of tumblr real estate you possess (I am impressed with my ability to always immediately find your blogs even the ones without a description, though...little warm fuzzy to myself in a sea of cold pricklies....sometimes you just gotta take what's there) Anyway, your actions last night--the blocking, followed by, basically "fuck off forever. Move on." were devastating to me, for real...only an unexpected epiphany has relieved horrible doldrums...Anyway, and don't this all you want...It's true, though. Last night was, roughly 1000x more productive for us than that night on 2011, I think. You didn't hzvr to tell me to get out of your life, then....I was way ahead of you on that idea. But, it was afterward, the following morning, or afternoon, when you posted z random Facebook message that was pointed out yo me by Eliot Evans, I think...it said something to the effect of "who are you to judge thd life I lead..." (Which I had yet to do, at that point) although the viewing of the message is actually what pissed me off more than anything because it helped to support my suspicion], unproven, that you originally wanted to see and speak with me that night...I recall....nevermind. details later....Anyway, what I should have realized, at the time is that we are far too different to ever be in a rekationship......I haven't admitted this to myself, I was under the misconception we might know one another then eventually decide on things like this, but, you are right: I want nothing to do with a relationship with you....because I don't believe you are willing to alter your current routines in any way shape or form and there I'd no way I would ever be okay with it.....heartbreaking for you, I am sure. I could list all of the reasons, but it is not that monogamy on a strict level would be required....but, eh you know what? It doesn't matter. ...and, you don't want jack shit to do with ne so, that's it, I suppose. I will be as accurate and respectful as I can in my last posts

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Would you mind if I requested another Alfie I love the way you write. A bit of an angsty one were Alfie is mean to her at the start she could own a little shop and he comes in saying she owes him money for protection if she wants to set up shop on his turf. She is afraid of him and is always in a panick to pay. Then he starts to soften to her and a relationship begins. I'd like some sexy time if you can can add it in. But if it doesn't work for you that's ok.☺️

//I love soft Alfie, but we can never forget his gangster roots. Because DAMN does he look hot doing that crime thing. 

           Independence was always a scary thought for Cora. But it was something she always desired. Her mother was certain she needed to be married before Cora left the house. But she didn’t see herself marrying any time soon. She wanted to make it out in the world on her own.

            So, she saved and bought a storefront in Camden Town. She began to put together a boutique. But she had yet to open before someone came barging in as if they owned the place.

            Cora poked her head out from the storage room. “Sorry, we’re not open…yet.” She felt her voice fade away when she saw the man entering.

            “Cora Hyde, that right?”

            She startled. “Uh…yes, I’m sorry, do I know you?”

            “Nah, but you will. Heard from a little bird that there was a new shop opening up. And the owner ain’t come to me to pay protection money.”

            “But I…” Cora shook her head. “Who are you?”

            He just chuckled and continued into the half-empty store, his cane tapping against the floor. He looked up from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. “Where are me manners? Alfie Solomons.” He introduced.

            “Cora…well you already know my name.” The young woman felt like backing away from him as he moved closer but she found she couldn’t move a muscle under his stare.

            “Yeah, m’surprised the person who sold you the shop didn’t give you the lay of the land, love. Surprised he didn’t mention where you’re setting up shop.” He looked around, even though there wasn’t much to look at as Cora was still getting things in place.

            “I uh…” She swallowed, still completely perplexed by the man.

            “See, you’re in my territory.” He placed a hand to his chest, showing the multiple rings he had on his fingers. “And shops in this area, pay me a bit of money so they’re under my protection.”

            So, this was what independence was like. Cora shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Solomons but I think you have me mistaken. I don’t need protection…I’m not even sure what I would need protection from.”

            “Oh, anything, anything. Fires, big scary men, yeah, robbers. I’ll take care of everything. But I don’t work for free, right, I mean you don’t work for free and neither do I. Simple business, innit?” He finally stepped right in front of the counter. “S’business. You pay me for protection.”

            “But I…”

            “You’re new to the area so let’s call it…eight pounds a month.”

            Cora’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Eight? Are you mad, you have no right storming in here demanding money like you own the place. I bought this store…”

            “Yeah, the last shopkeeper was a pain in me arse. Now that you mention it. He refused to pay too. Said something similar, I had no right to ask for money, right. Want to know where he is now?” A dark look passed over his face. “He’s in the river, love. All he had to do was pay for protection and he’d still be alive.”

            Cora was almost trembling with fear. She had no way of knowing if this man was just blowing smoke. But the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t joking around.

            “You seem like a nice girl, not looking for trouble, aye? Cut ya a deal, seven-pound a month. First of every month.”

            Seven pounds. How would Cora be able to get seven pounds every month? She hadn’t even made a single cent from the store yet and was already strapped for money. But what else was she to do? “I don’t know if I’ll have the money in time. I don’t have much…”

            “First of the month.” Alfie echoed before striding out of the store, leaving no room for debate.

            Cora ran a hand through her hair in a harried state. “What am I going to do?” She whispered.

 ~~~~~

            The first of the next month came much faster than expected. Cora had tried, she really had. But between paying rent and trying to afford the bare minimums to survive, she came up very short of the seven pounds Alfie had insisted upon.

            She cringed when she saw his dark, broad figure coming into the store. “Mr. Solomons…”

            “First of the month.” He announced as if she wasn’t fully aware. “Seven pounds is what I said, innit?”

            “Y-yes and I tried but I-I haven’t any money an-and I can’t afford to pay you or-or for anything.” Oh God, she couldn’t hold herself together. It was so scary being out in the world on her own. What the hell was she thinking trying to be so headstrong and independent? She began to weep, too broken to hold the tears back.

            Alfie stared at her for a moment. Very rarely did people cry in front of him, unless of course, they were begging for their lives at the end of a gun. But to see the young woman break down in front of him was unnerving, to say the least. “Alright, alright. Don’t hafta fucking cry.” He mumbled and reached into his coat for a handkerchief.

            “Please, I don’t want any tr-trouble.” Cora looked up to see the small piece of cloth offered to her.

            Alfie looked disgruntled but perhaps it was to show the guilt he felt for being so intimidating to a young shopkeeper. “I don’t need seven pounds, right, I’ve got considerable means. Your seven pounds ain’t nothing to me.” He established so she didn’t consider him weak. It would do him no good if word got around that he was getting soft.

            She hesitantly took the handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “I don’t understand.” She hiccuped. “You said-”

            “Yeah, well fuck what I said, okay? Can change me own mind whenever I fucking want to and I just did.” He grumbled.

            She looked puzzled. He was a very confusing man, to say the least. His face had become less intimidating and she found him to be a bit more endearing. Crass and cranky, but less of a threat than he was before. “I don’t know if I should thank you or not.”

            “Don’t need thanks.” He saw her eyes were still welling up with tears. “Just stop crying.” Maybe he was softer on women. That much might’ve been true. But he couldn’t stand being the reason for her crying. Perhaps it had to do with comforting his sister when they were younger. Comforting her in their family’s darkest moments.

            Cora dabbed at her eyes again before going to give him back the handkerchief.

            “Keep it, s’alright.” He said. “I’ll be checking in from time to time. Just making sure no one else is giving you trouble.” The words came out before Alfie could really realize what he was saying and why. With no required payments on the table, realistically, the two would never have to cross paths again. But, there was a softness to her that was so rare in his life. So rare in Camden. A deep part of him wanted to cling to that softness, to have some sort of humanity in his life. Something nice amongst the blood and rum. Something nice.

 ~~~~

            True to his word, Alfie checked in on Cora’s shop with increasing frequency. It started out with Alfie asking if anyone had given her a hard time around Camden Town. And if so, he’d like the name of said people. He wanted to make sure her landlord was being fair. Wanted to make sure she was getting enough business.

            Initially, Cora found it very strange that the man who had come barging in asking for eight pounds a month, suddenly had a vested interest in her business. It would’ve made her suspicious if it hadn’t been for his gentler side.

            Of course, this side only came out after a couple of months of knowing one another. Alfie brought his dog, Cyril, along one day, much to Cora’s delight.

            “Oh, Alfie, he’s gorgeous,” Cora remarked as she stroked Cyril’s smooth coat.

            “Gorgeous.” Alfie scoffed. “Yeah, he’s fucking gorgeous when he’s taking up half the bed and wakes me up at the crack of dawn.”

            She laughed softly. It was something new that she realized about him. Cyril wasn’t some guard dog or a prop to look more intimidating, he was a companion. Someone that Alfie was fond of. So, he wasn’t heartless.

  ~~~~~~         

            It came to be that nearly a year after she set up shop, she found herself waiting for Alfie to drop by. Days seemed more mundane when he didn’t pop in for a quick chat. But it seemed he was firmly standing behind a line. Even if Cora dropped hints that she perhaps was interested in getting to know him better, he didn’t respond. She was starting to think he really was just being friendly. Strange behavior for a gangster, but she wasn’t going to assume things.

            To get some closure, Cora steeled herself and asked.

            “Would you ever want to see me outside of here?” She asked him after their conversation about dog breeds ran dry.

            “I see you outside.” His brow furrowed.

            It was true, sometimes they ran into each other on the street. “I mean, like out. At a pub or something.” She clarified shyly.

            Alfie swallowed. He knew he was treading dangerous waters. Damned as he was, he was looking for the outcome. But had always tried to hold himself back. A girl like Cora could do so much better than him. It was wishful thinking to believe it would ever work out. But he was a sinful creature and couldn’t stay away. “We could. Didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me out in public.”

            Cora looked appalled. “What gave you that idea?”

            “Well, love, you know my reputation.”

            “Your first impression with me wasn’t stellar but you’ve only ever treated me nicely ever since.” She reminded him.

            “You’re braver than I thought.” He mused. “Much braver. Here I was thinking you were a little mouse, ‘fraid of everything.”

            She shrugged. “I don’t think I have reason to be afraid of you.”

            That’s when Alfie knew she had his number. There was no pulling the wool over her eyes. “Alright, I’ll take you out then.”

            “Pick me up tonight?”

            “Eight o’clock.”

 ~~~~~

            Cora got some jitters when she started seeing Alfie. She was worried he might change for the worse and she would be in a tough situation. But he never did. If anything, he only got kinder and opened up more to her.

            But then she realized people stared at her when she walked down the streets of Camden Town. No one would talk when she was nearby, lest Alfie Solomons rain down hell upon them. But they did talk when she was out of earshot.

            The woman who had tamed Alfie Solomons. What a mystery. What a scandal.

            But the hype faded after a couple of years. Meanwhile, Alfie and Cora only fell deeper in love. It was a far cry from their first interaction, which Cora sometimes teased him about.

            One morning, Alfie came into the store and began locking the door and pulling down the shutters.

            Cora, who was hanging up some clothes looked alarmed. “Alfie, what on Earth are you doing?”

            “You, miss,” He began striding toward her once the shop was all secured and the outside world was locked away. “Left me bed this morning before I even woke. Leaving me without a proper goodbye.” He scolded.

            “I left you a note.” She said, at least relieved there was nothing serious going on and he was just being dramatic.

            “A fucking note.” He humphed. “A proper goodbye, not a note.”       

            Cora rolled her eyes, amused at how bratty he was sometimes. “So, you’re driving business away from my shop because I left without a good morning kiss?” She rounded the counter with her arms crossed.

            “Cheeky, as always.” He picked her up without warning and sat her on the counter.

            “Alfie!” She giggled, a bit taken aback by his sudden movement.

            “You want a little taste of what I were gonna give you this morning?” He asked. His hands traveled down her back, starting to undo the buttons of her dress.

            “Well, if I had known you had something planned, I might’ve stayed…” She leaned forward to kiss him.

            “Well, plans can be changed a bit.” He murmured between kisses. “Always dreamt ‘bout fucking you in me office but here’ll do just fine.”

            “Here?” Cora asked, her eyes widening. But she couldn’t deny that the thrill made her stomach knot up.

            He studied her face. “That’s a no then?” He assumed, ready to back off.

            “You’ll need to be quick.” She tugged his shirt so he would get closer. “I need to open back up to actually make some money.”

            Back in the mood, he gave her a smug smile. “I’ll take as long as I want with you, love. Ain’t rushing anything.”

            “You think money grows on trees?” She retorted, smoothing her hands over his chest, and ghosting her lips over his neck.

            “Ah, you know you’ll never go without. I wouldn’t let you.” He finished unbuttoning her dress. “Anything you want, I’ll get ya. Gonna bathe you in diamonds and sapphires.”

            His seductive tone was making Cora lose her mind. “Alright. Fuck reopening the store.” Alfie’s eyes lit up and he moved in to kiss her. But she stopped him with a finger to his lips. “But it’ll cost you eight pounds.” She teased.

            “Oh, you little minx.” He groaned. “I fucking love you.”

            She giggled and pulled him in for a kiss.

[40sandfabulousaf]

Happy hump day from Southeast Asia! 🐫 Tbh, I'm SO strapped for time right now due to work demands (from that unreasonable cow of a boss I wrote about earlier). Something good did come outta it and I'll share when the time is right. I also hafta juggle caring for elderly parents during this harrowing coronavirus period and friends, so many pursuits have taken a backseat, including having new jewellery customised - there just isn't time to come up with something I really like!

Enjoyable as fashion is, sharing such posts isn't a priority at the mo. I did that last year anyway so, in 2020, what would really be fun is to focus on normalising exercise for all body types. Sharing curvy babes being active is also in line with my personal goal of getting stronger at a holistic level this year.

Our bigger friends sharing the same mindset will be taken by the hand and lifted up in this blog if I come across them. In this way, they help their communities to be accepted when they're out engaging in movement that they enjoy. Everyone's happy so, why not? All of us benefit; it would be utterly dumb to turn down a win-win situation.

As a friend, Darren, said to me last year, people are more interesting when they have a hobby or hobbies they're passionate about. By that, he doesn't mean travel or vacations. No shade to frequent flyers here; there're definitely lots of interesting stories to tell about different cultures. As normal everyday people though, how many of us have the luxury of time (or finances for some) to traipse around the globe regularly?

Those with a passion, however, possess a certain je ne sais quoi that draws people to them. It makes them seem more multi-dimensional as people and, to a certain extent, I understand what Darren means. Stephanie of @bellabombshel, Amanda of @amandalacount, Georgina of @fullerfigurefullerbust and Jolene of @boardroomblonde stand out because, outside of the usual beauty/fashion/lifestyle influencer shenanigans, they're passionate about something and they bloody try to excel or improve at it. This spirit truly wins my utmost respect.

Now MY personal passion, which is no secret at all, is exercise. I have derived benefits from it and truly believe that everyone deserves to experience the same. I will always be dedicated to being active and, rain or shine, 24/7, for many years now, it has been my constant companion, keeping me self assured and ready to face another tough day (this time with the cow 😅).

So it's absolutely delightful that curvy babes are embracing exercise, including braving the shitstorm that jerks sometimes subject them to. By soldiering on, they pave the way for others to be seen and to normalise wellness as a concept that everyone deserves.

So without further ado... the darlings.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by sarah tripp (@sassyredlipstick) on Feb 24, 2020 at 6:46pm PST

Alright, yummy mummy, good for you! ✊✊✊

Gorgeous sweetheart Sarah persevered to the end with a zumba class and will you just look at her radiance. She's practically glowing! Definitely still got it all - that sass, that drive, every single damn thing. You may chant 'All hail Queen Amidala now'. Proud of this babe.

Speaking of proud...

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jolene Eder, JD | AZ Blogger (@boardroomblonde) on Feb 24, 2020 at 11:59am PST

I can definitely relate to Jolene. She'd hurt her shoulder some years back and the pain prevented her from trying out exercises that could possibly have strengthened those muscles. I totally get this because when my auto accident spinal injury worsened once I hit 30, it frightened me so much, I gave up the sports I loved. For 1 year. The darkest year of my life and also the year I spiralled into depression.

Discovering calisthenics gave me a new lease of life, thus I'm happy to know that Jolene is likewise trying out new exercises to strengthen her upper limbs. It might take awhile, but OMG I'm rooting for her to succeed because in a way, her story is so similar to my story. Wishing this babe all the best. Never. Ever. Give. Up.

And then we have Jessica.

Curvy babes who have hangups about working out should absolutely check out her post. I wholly agree with what she said:

Fitness is 'NOT A COMPETITION'.

This is the reason I refuse to pit 1 of my faves, Stephanie of @bellabombshel, against anyone else. Sure, sometimes I may tease out of playfulness but it would feel crap if she ever thinks I'm comparing because I'm not. And she should never ever compare herself to any other curvy dancing babe I share.

As far as dance is concerned, Stephanie ranks right up there for finesse, fluidity and stamina. If Amanda LaCount - may I add this wicked babe is a professional who's done what she does since 2yo - is shared regularly here, it's for a reason and I'd rather all of you curvy darlings realise that being joint faves is a wonderful thing. Remember: I love you because of your passion for what you do and it shows - you're gloriously excellent!

So whilst waiting for my babe Stephanie, here's the amazing Amanda and her latest stunning routine.

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A post shared by #breakingthestereotype™️ (@amandalacount) on Feb 23, 2020 at 3:34pm PST

You know what would be really fun? If these 2 divas come up with their own choreography for the same song. That is when their skills and individuality would really shine. Until then, Imma enjoy both of them!

Joining them? The delicious Nabela (don't worry, I won't like, swallow her up 😂).

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A post shared by Nabela (নাবিলা) Noor (@nabela) on Feb 24, 2020 at 11:43am PST

You never ever know who you inspire, ya know 😋 Being active and fun in the washroom/dressing room should really be a thing 🤣 This ol' bird is lovin' it plenty!

Rounding up this exercise post is Kristen, because yoga definitely is part of wellness.

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A post shared by Kristen 💖 Love (@kristenplus) on Feb 23, 2020 at 3:12pm PST

Dunno about you but I'm completely behind the message behind her post because of that never-say-die spirit. The more curvy babes there are out there, the more stereotypes are broken and the more minds are changed.

Lastly (I promise promise).........

Showing that a number, whether that be age, weight or size, is completely irrelevant where fitness is concerned, check out this amazing post.

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A post shared by Wesley James 🇯🇲🇺🇸 (@mrjames_cpt) on Feb 17, 2020 at 1:57pm PST

This can be YOU! And me, because I'm bloody motivated.

I hope you've enjoyed this long-ass post because I sure as heck have enjoyed working on it. Saluting all the fabulous ladies here!

Till the next post, stay sweet!

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

Early Pas de Deux Hakizana: he may have cast her as his prima, but that doesn't mean Izana has to like it

Prompts are currently closedwhile I catch up. I will announce when I am open! :)

A/N: Pre-canon companionpiece to Pas de Deux. 

Pairing: Hakizana

Content Warning: A funeral. Mention of canonical minor character death (Kain)

 It shouldn’t be this easy.

But when he moves forward,she moves back; when he lifts, she leaps. Like the pull of the earth, like thesun to her planets, one moment she tethers him, bending to his hands, going laxin his arms; in the next, she draws taunt, tight like a wire, straining againsthim when the tension needs to draw out and submitting where his will isgreater.

This shouldn’t work. Herbody shouldn’t feel like an extension of his, like both an inhale of breath anda sigh. She’s an Arleon. An American,for fucks sake.

And yet, she’s- she’s-

~ ~ ~

“Magnifique.”

Izana blinks, craning hishead back to catch the plume of smoke that carries the word. In the early afternoon,the sunlight bears fiercely upon the studio, filling it with the heat and brightnessof the stars. Standing within it, his father is both one with the sun andbarely visible, his form a vague outline of light and shadow.

“Père?”

Kain Wisteria does notlook at him, he does not think. He pulls his cigarette to his lips once more,the stub flaring brightly before snuffing out.

“That one.” His fatherclicks his tongue, smoke filling the space as if pointing a direction. “Thegirl in the middle.”

Following carefully, Izana’sscans the bar, the lineup of girls stretched out against the mirror with sweatshining faces. Spools of blonde hair stick to their necks, their collarbones,their foreheads. He counts down the line, past each perfect smile, past each eagerset of eyes until he gets to the middle and-

His face screws up.

“You can’t be serio-”

A program smacks him once tothe back of his head, and Izana winces, “Ow.”

“You’re a Wisteria. Actlike one.” His father pushes himself off the wall, snuffing out his cigarette againstthe ledge. “What’s your problem with her?”

The girls face remainsperfectly painted, her hair tightly piled upon her head. So unlike half thegirls in the line who did not pull the band tight enough, he can appreciate thediscipline. The understanding and acceptance of pain.

Her eyes, though. The others are so eager for approval, so eager to please. Yet her eyesdo not flinch, even when he frowns. They are sure, steady, and there issomething solid about them that remind him of the glacier ice he saw last summer when his mother took him and Zen to the fjords. The way the heat did not melt them, the way that their cavernscaught in the light with their endless shades of perfectly clear greens andblues.

But-

But he’d much rather theshorter one, second one down. Less to carry.

“She’s too big,” heprotests.

His father hums, amused. “You’llcatch up.”

Blowing out his cheeks, heis shameless. “What about that one?” he asks, referring to the shorter blonde.She starts a little, concentration poor, but that can be fixed. With time.

Kain’s lips thin, eyeingher, taking him seriously for once when his eyes trace down her body. “No,” hesays, simple and final.

“No?” Izana’sflabbergasted. Yes, there is a risk at their age of growing tall, or broad, butshe is thin as a wisp, bones fine as a birds, and- “Why not?”

Shaking his head, his jawflexes. “The stage will break her before the end of next year.”

Pointing, Izana exclaims, “Andit won’t her?”

Casting him a disapprovingglare, his father switches to English.

“Girl,” he barks, crossinghis arms, and she does not flinch. “What is your name?”

She opens her mouth, andwhat comes out can hardly pass for any tongue he’s ever heard in this country. “HakiArleon, Monsieur. From Boston.”

~ ~ ~

He’s not expecting her. He’snot expecting anything about her when she finally comes to New York. It’s been years - years since he’s seen her face, since he held her hand at his fathers insistence on that sun filled studio in Paris. But she slides into place among his company as if she had always been one of his own.

She’s quiet, though. Only speaking when she feels the room is quiet enough to hear the weight of her words. And, on occasion, disorienting.

Like now.

“This choreography,” she murmurs,arm barely grazing his shoulder as she reaches over to touch his plans. He hadn’t even realized that she was in his office. “It’snot… French.”

“No,” Izana sniffs,flicking his hair out of his eyes as he continues to sketch. It ishard, though, with the question hovering in the air. “It’s Balanchine.”

“C’est absurd,” she mutters, and he turns towards her sharply, abarb on his tongue but she’s- she’s smiling,the corner of her mouth twitching as if he said something funny. As if he was joking about the future of the Wisteriafamily name. “What would your father say?”

“Nothing,” he drawls,turning back to his work. Flattening his palms over paper and pencil markings,Izana quells the shaking in his core. Finally. An excuse. A reason to shuck offthe last of his father’s ghosts, to prove the old man wrong about one thing. “Because he’s dead. I’m takingthis company in a new direction.”

“I see.” He looks at her,so mild, and this is it, she will break. She will break like every girl father saidwould before he broke them- “What are your feelings on incorporating Vagonovainto Firebird?”

He stares.

~ ~ ~

The church is suffocating,stifling, filled with the murmured wishes of mourners as they pass before thedark veils of his mother. She’s quiet, only the pale of her hands peeking outfrom beneath dark lace, and even then it’s only to rock her youngest, cried tosleep, against her breast.

He was a genius…

Taken from this world too soon…

The great ones always are.

Gritting his teeth, Izana takestheir wishes, one by one. With his slicked back hair and dark suit, his eyesdon’t water, his mouth doesn’t tremble. He’s the man now. The head of hishouse. He can carry the weight of his families’ lies so his mother doesn’t haveto.

“Monsuier Wisteria?”

He knows that voice. Thataccent. It’s atrocious. Maybe her instructor was from Canada.

His mother would scold himif he sneered, so he restrains himself. Just barely. “That was my father’sname.”

“It’s yours now, I guess.”

Those eyes of hers havenot change. They’re still the same shade of shimmering glass. One moment blue;the next, green. But she does not look right in the simple black dress reachingher knees, the seam of her stockings stretching down the back of her calf.

“Izana,” she says,quietly. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He swallows rapidly. Thetears. The bile. He doesn’t know. And nods.

Remember that you’re the man now, my boy.

“If you-” She takes a deepbreath, hands flexing at her side before, one muscle at a time, falling intorelaxation. “If you want to talk- I lost my mother just last year and-”

“Thank you for coming,” heclips. “Have a safe flight back to the States.”

Her lips press, her throat flexing, but her face does not absorb the strike. She simply moves on.

~ ~ ~

“You’re not going to wantto hear this.”

Izana pauses mid-step,half way to the door, and his blood goes cold. In the shadows, Haruka’s broadback faces him, feet firmly planted and staring through the observation windowat the dancer within.

“That’s never stopped youbefore.”

He grunts, but doesn’tturn. “She’s good.”

“She’s passable,” Izanacorrects.

“She can anticipates yourmovement.”

“So can everyone else.”

That earns him a turn, asingle raises one eyebrow over one shoulder and a patient glare. Izana’s jawclenches.

“I admit,” he says slowly,carefully. “She has some talent for the contemporary.”

Face unchanging, Harukafolds his arms in front of him and looks back towards the studio. “Your fatheralways liked her for you.”

“Yes, well,” Izana shrugs,throwing his jacket over his shoulders. “I strive to be nothing but an obedientson.”

“Izana.” Haruka’s voice isclipped, stern. A voice he hasn’t heard in years. It gives him pause. Gives himtime to see the steel of his gaze reflected on the window. “It would be a shameto throw out a good thing just to show spite.”

Izana turns, mouth openingin denial, but then he catches her form through the window. The arch of herarms, the movement of her line, the leap, the fall- He remembers. He remembershow she felt in his arms. How right.

“I’ll think on it.” Is allhis says, because that’s all he can promise. To Haruka. To Haki. To theseghosts that haunt every studio and every stage.

~ ~ ~

It shouldn’t be this easy,he thinks, stepping out into another cold New York City night.

But he knows.

It is.

[prissyhalliwell]

FairyGardener!verse- (pure fluff) Jefferson meets Belle and starts to bring her little trinkets whenever he stops by to see Rumple. Rumple doesn't like this at all (which of course makes it all the more fun for our favorite hatter).

Author’s Note: IT’S BACK, BABY! The Fairy Gardener is finished and I will be posting a new chapter every Wednesday until it’s done. If anyone is still reading at this point, thank you so much for sticking in there!You can also find this chapter on AO3.

CHAPTER NINE

If Rumplestiltskin had regretted inviting Jefferson that first day, it was nothing compared to how much he regretted it the next time the Hatter came to tea. Or the time after that.  

It was the second time in two weeks that Jefferson had come to tea unannounced and Rumplestiltskin was ready to strangle the man. While it hadn’t been uncommon for his friend to pop in unexpectedly from time to time in the past, he’d never come this often in such a short period of time. It was obviously due to Belle’s presence in the castle, and Rumplestiltskin thought it very rude of her to be encouraging such behavior. It was his home after all, even if she did technically live there.

He’d hoped that Jefferson’s habit of being forgetful would decrease his visits to the Dark Castle, but the Hatter disappointed him by suddenly having a great memory. Rumplestiltskin wasn’t quite desperate enough to magically block Jefferson from visiting yet, mostly because he wasn’t sure if it would work. For someone who jumped back and forth between realms on a regular basis, magical wards probably wouldn’t be much of a challenge.

The only upside of the visits had been the improvement in Belle’s mood. She had stopped moping around the castle and was more talkative during their meals, even if she seemed a bit more reserved with him than she had prior to Blue’s visit. With Jefferson though, she showed none of this restraint, leaving Rumplestiltskin to believe she still harbored some resentment towards him.

To make things easier for her, he left Belle alone most of the time. He checked on the Jekylls every few days, but spent the majority of his time in his lab researching, emerging only for meals. The castle would still feed Belle if he wasn’t there, but he’d grown used to taking meals with her.

Besides, how was he supposed to learn anything about her if they never spoke? He rather missed their late nights by the fire, reading and trading stories, but he doubted Belle would be interested in that anymore. Maybe if things thawed a little more between them, he would ask. Until then, it seemed best not to broach the subject.

Like they had during the past two visits, Jefferson and Belle were laughing over some ridiculous story he hadn’t been paying attention to. Since they all revolved around Jefferson getting himself shrunk or nearly losing his head, Rumplestiltskin didn’t have much of an interest.

The three of them were sitting at the dining table in the Great Hall with both Belle and Jefferson doing a bang up job of forgetting Rumplestiltskin was even there. In return, he ignored them as well, though he did take note when Jefferson withdrew a small item out of his pocket and held it out to Belle with a grin. He’d brought her something during his last two visits as well.

Rumplestiltskin let out a low growl, unaware that he was digging his fingernails into the arms of his chair.

The pleased expression on Belle’s face was impossible to miss. “Jefferson, you shouldn’t! You’ve given me so much already.”

Rumplestiltskin bit back a comment about how he had given her the roof over her head and sanctuary from the Blue Fairy. Or how he had yet to toss her out on her fairy ass for keeping secrets from him.

“Ungrateful pixie,” he mumbled under his breath.

Belle flashed him an annoyed look from down the table and he flinched. Did garden fairies have super hearing? He’d have to look into it.

“It’s just a little souvenir from my last trip to Oz,” Jefferson said good naturedly. He ignored the current glaring contest going on between his two companions and lay the package of seeds on the table. “I thought poppies would look nice in your garden.”

“Thank you, Jefferson. I’m sure they’ll be beautiful,” Belle said, smiling widely. “Do you plant them in your garden at the cottage?”

Jefferson sighed. “Not anymore. I had to stop.”

“Why?”

“I kept forgetting where I’d planted them! I’d end up falling asleep mid-weeding.” He shuddered. “It was awful. I missed several tea parties.”

Belle chuckled. “Maybe I’ll use it on Rumple when he’s brooding.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t brood.”

When the two looked at him with twin looks of disbelief, his frown turned into a scowl.

“Fine!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Since the two of you are bound and determined to gang up on me – ”

Their peals of laughter interrupted him, annoying him further.

“Merlin, but you’re self-centered,” Belle managed to gasp out between chuckles. “Has he always been this temperamental?”

Jefferson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Definitely not.”

“Thank you, Jefferson.” Rumplestiltskin preened, pleased his friend had defended him. Perhaps he was being too harsh on –

“He’s usually worse,” Jefferson continued, matter-of-factly. “But it’s not his fault. Some people are just bad communicators.”

“That’s it,” Rumplestiltskin said, standing up. “I’m leaving!”

Belle held up her hand to stop him, hiccuping as she tried to control her laughter. “No, we’ll behave. I promise.” She flew off of her cushion and grabbed the package of seeds. “I’m going to plant these now before it rains later tonight.”

Both men looked out the window at a bright blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds. Jefferson opened his mouth to ask, but Rumplestiltskin beat him to it.

“Fairy magic,” he said with a sniff. He called out to her as she flew through the open window. “Not that you ever think to share that information with me!”

Belle ignored his taunting and disappeared into the garden. Rumplestiltskin collapsed into his chair with a huff.

“Ah, I think I know what’s going on here.”

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow at the other man. “That would be a first.”

As usual, the insult bounced right off Jefferson. “It’s clear as day what’s bothering you,” he said, smiling inanely.

“Let me guess,” Rumplestiltskin said dryly, “my aura is off. Or perhaps my phlegm is unbalanced.”

Jefferson stared at him like he was simple. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure your phlegm is wonderful.” He shifted in his seat to get comfortable and then swung his legs up on the table, ignoring the withering glare Rumplestiltskin sent his direction. “It’s quite simple really. You’re jealous.”

“Why that’s – ” Rumplestiltskin blinked. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Why in all the realms would I be jealous of you?!”

Jefferson preened a bit, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not uncommon, you know. I do possess a certain je ne sais quoi.” His smile faltered. “I haven’t quite narrowed down what it is yet, but the ladies seem to love it.”

Rumplestiltskin made an impatient gesture with his hand. “I’m hoping there’s a point in here somewhere.”

Leaning forward in his chair, Jefferson looked him straight in the eye, his expression serious. “Belle is a woman.”

“She’s a mosquito.”

Jefferson laughed. “I think you’ll find she’s much more attractive than most mosquitos.”

The use of the word ‘most’ worried Rumplestiltskin, but he stopped himself from asking. There were certain things he just didn’t want to know.

“Regardless, I am not jealous of Belle’s affection for you.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Jefferson seemed to mull this over. “So…you’re jealous of my affection for her?”

“What? No!”

Jefferson let out a rumbling chuckle, rising from his seat and walking over to clap Rumplestiltskin on the back. “I only jest, my friend.” A wistful look passed over his face. “That ship sailed long ago.”

Rolling his eyes, Rumplestiltskin stood as well. Putting his arm around the other man, he began to steer him in the direction of the door. “I think that’s enough tea for today. Off you go.”

The Hatter nodded begrudgingly. “I suppose you’re right. I have to pick up some pickled herring for a customer anyway.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded along though he was only half-listening, already planning what he would do next. He had a potion to brew and some royal family trees to study in order to deal with some local monarchs. “Have fun with that. Make sure you check up on the Jekylls for me, like we discussed.”

Jefferson turned back to face him, a pout on his face. They had almost reached the front door, and Rumplestiltskin wondered how long it would take the Hatter to forgive him if he pushed him through it.

“Do I have to?” Jefferson asked, a hint of a whine in his voice. “They creep me out. Couldn’t I check on someone else for you?” His eyes lit up. “How about Regina? She’s a riot, provided she’s not busy causing one.”

With a shake of his head, Rumplestiltskin waved open the front door and gently ushered Jefferson through. “Goodbye, Jefferson. Come back if you have anything useful to share.” As Jefferson opened his mouth to speak, Rumplestiltskin clarified. “That I would find useful, I mean.” With a twitch of his hand, the door swung shut.

Letting out a deep sigh, he walked back to his spinning wheel, sinking onto the stool wearily. For someone who enjoyed peace and quiet, he certainly didn’t get much of it these days.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, then Belle flew back into the room. She glanced around before stopping next to his spinning wheel, hovering in the air beside him. “Did Jefferson leave?”

Rumplestiltskin made a big show of looking around, even lifting his boot to look under it. “If he hasn’t, he’s certainly picked a damn good hiding spot. ”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It wouldn’t kill you to answer a question simply one of these days.”

He flashed her a crocodile smile. “How do you know? Perhaps it’s the way I’ve stayed alive for so many centuries.”

“No, I think that’s due to pure spite.” She gave him a cheeky grin before turning to fly away, most likely back to her garden.

“Running away so soon, dearie?  I suppose the castle’s too boring without your dashing friend here.”

She paused, a strange expression crossing her face. “Jefferson?” She gave an incredulous laugh. “He’s certainly many things, but I don’t know if I’d call him dashing.”

Rumplestiltskin scoffed and Belle rolled her eyes.

“Think what you like,” she said, “but I was just going over to the table to get our book. You promised you’d read more of it to me sometime, remember?”

He did remember. Reading in the evenings had become a regular pastime for them, up until Blue’s visit and the resulting awkwardness between them. As strained as things had been the last two weeks, he hadn’t thought Belle would want to return to their nightly ritual.  

“You’ve been…distracted lately,” he said softly. “I thought perhaps you’d enjoy a break.”

Belle gave him a sad smile. “I just needed time to come to terms with some things.”

“And have you?” he asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

“I think so,” Belle said, her tone only halfway convincing. “But I’ll be even happier if you read me the next chapter of our book!”

As if he could deny her such a tiny request. The book appeared in his hands a second later and he opened it to where they’d left off, Belle perching on his shoulder so she could follow along as he read.  

“In the deepest, darkest part of the forest, where the trees are old and their memories long, where humans have never tread and only the wolves can roam, there came a babe.”

Rumplestiltskin turned his head slightly, catching Belle’s gaze with his own. This time the smile she gave him held no trace of sadness. He returned it with one of his own, feeling lighter than he had in days. His annoyance with Jefferson faded and he began to read the story with a renewed energy, reveling in the contented sighs that left Belle’s lips as he read.

Even the Dark Castle itself seemed at peace for once, raising a fire in the hearth as the storm clouds began to form outside and the rain fell down around them.

Inside, Rumplestiltskin and Belle were warm and comfortable, too busy exploring new worlds to worry much about their own.

Author’s Note: Big thanks to @b-does-the-write-thing​ for letting me borrow the lines Rumple reads to Belle from her fic, The Story Teller. If you like twisted fairy tales and a darker take on the Rumbelle story, check it out!