#fc5 bloodborne au

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, WIP Wednesday & OC Speech Mannerisms

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @noodlecupcakes

Tagging @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @raresvtm @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai + anyone who wants to join.

Music for The UnTitledverse WIP, aka another for my Walking Fate series, a WIP for The Silver Chronicles and OC speech mannerisms for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Listen and read under the cut, plus the template near the end below:

Yeah, so I can't stop talking about Walking Fate. This particular WIP in the series is referred to as A Dark Era as it takes place near season three, or A New Frontier as we know it. Not only is the song chosen because of the themes of that game (and the central relationship between Javi and David), but its in addition to the growing decay (considering this is in The Walking Dead, does this count as a pun?) of Clementine's hope for Malcrum and Malcrum's loss of himself. I'd like to say that each "season" is about a certain aspect/form of a relationship. Season 1 is about the formation of relationships, familial and romantic (with hints of loss). Season 2 is about reignited relationships, the strengths and weaknesses in them, true and false relationships and lastly the loss them. Season 3 is the decay of relationships. Season 4 is forming new connections, and the finale is being able to let go. Listen to the song below:

"'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look at what you've done 'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!"

"I can't take it back, look where I'm at We was O-G like D.O.C., remember that? (Remember that?) My T-L-C was quite O-D, I-D my facts Now P-O-V of you and me, similar Iraq I don't hate you, but I hate to critique, overrate you These beats of a dark heart, use basslines to replace you Take time and erase you, love don't hear no more No, I don't fear no more, better yet, respect ain't quite sincere no more."

"Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I

'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look at what you've done 'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Now we've got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!"

"Remember when you tried to write me off? Remember when you thought I'd take a loss? Don't you remember? You thought that I would need ya Follow procedure, remember? Oh, wait, you got amnesia It was my season for battle wounds Battle scars, body bumped, bruised Stabbed in the back; brimstone, fire jumping through Still, all my life, I got money and power And you gotta to live with the bad blood now."

"Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I

'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look at what you've done 'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Now we've got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes You say sorry just for show If you live like that, you live with ghosts." "You forgive, you forget, but you never let it go." "Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes You say sorry just for show If you live like that, you live with ghosts." "If you love like that, blood runs cold."

"'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look at what you've done 'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Now we've got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em (Don't think we can solve 'em) You made a really deep cut And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look at what you've done (Look what you've done) 'Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Now we've got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!"

New FC5 WIP, and it's a bit like a crossover. Actually, more like a Bloodborne AU type deal with Far Cry 5. To note, this no way in which relates to or is connected to my own Bloodborne WIP. Anyway, so the deal with this FC5/Bloodborne WIP AU is, Hope County has a bit of a werewolf problem. It's supposedly a plague that irreversibly changes people into bloodthirsty beasts and these creatures usually come out a few nights in the year. Or maybe they come out every night, I'm unsure. For this reason, Hope County has a curfew installed and contracted a local monastery to send out special hunters to hunt these beasts down and keep the populace safe. In this WIP, the monastery and hunters are lead by Paul Yellowjack, who is the first hunter (he takes on a combination of roles from the actual Bloodborne game; most tellingly, Gehrman), with Silva (my deputy OC in any regular FC5 fic) leading the hunts as his first student (taking on the role as Lady Maria in a way; and unlike Gehrman, Paul is not attracted to her (if that is the correct interpretation, because Bloodborne is a game that is really up to interpretation), however, just like Gehrman, Paul has a bit of an obsession with her, just more paternal and codependent... the moon may or may not be involved in this). In this AU, hunters don't really interact with people outside of the hunts for the people's safety and because their profession doesn't really scream long life expectancy. Some FC5 characters, like Jess, Grace, Sharky and maybe the Whitetail Militia have become Hunters. Some OCs who were Eden's Gate or Resistance (Nadi, Alexander and Gavin specifically) are also Hunters. Eden's Gate takes on more-or-less the same role as it does in the game, they're just (a) better at hiding their crimes because everyone's preoccupied with the werewolves and (b) using the fact there are werewolves as a sign the Collapse is coming closer, and honestly, it manages to get them more converts. In the early years, Eden's Gate and Paul's Monastery (of Hunters) did trades; Eden's Gate transferred Paul more hunter converts, and Paul in turn would give resources and lands (of the recently deceased) over to them. However, after Vicar Laurence turned into a Cleric Beast, Paul's Hunters and Eden's Gate align with each other to combat the scourge plague and find out how to both eradicate the beasts in hiding and completely destroy the source of it so they stop growing in number. Joseph and his family still have their goal of bringing forth the Collapse, however the Scourge Plague needs to get gone so law enforcement can actually patrol the nights again, so their willing to wait and work with Paul some more, especially since this new alliance has opened up a new chore Paul will do for Joseph's family; clearing out the beasts that use the bunkers the Project wants as a den. But Paul expects this alliance to go both ways, meaning Joseph has to be ready to give somethings up to the Hunters... or even someone. Here's a bit of a snippet of the prologue, where these proceedings go down. A bit choppy and personally not my best but I'll fix it up when I got the time:

Paul offered the glass to Joseph, but he declined with a wave of his hand.

The older man tried to offer it to Jacob and John. While John looked at the glass with disdain when turning it away, Jacob took a moment to consider the tempting offer before deciding against it.

The night days before may have been a dreadfully long one, but Jacob had no intention on compromising his values now. Especially not with both his little brothers present.

Paul didn't push against their refusals, instead taking the glass drinks for himself, downing both before slumping into his seat, exhaustion heavy on features. And yet he hadn't lost his composure that night. No wonder he was a more favorable leader than Laurence was... or had been.

Jacob tried not to think about the masses screams... and the loud inhuman shrieks that bellowed from the flames.

Paul sat up, hand brushing through his light brown hair. Soon his exhaustion was replaced with his usual cheerful facade, an optimism that Jacob was unsure was more for the older man or his people.

"As I was saying," Paul stated, catching the brothers attention, "While the public and some of the newer recruits are under the impression that the most recent hunt was merely bad luck. A tragedy, of course, but a one-time fluke... I am in agreement with your assessment of this event, Father Joseph."

Joseph blinked in response, and tilted his head quizzically. Jacob himself was suspicious of Paul's words. While the Monastery and Project had never butted heads, especially during trades, there was an unspoken judgement of the other's practices and beliefs.

"You've finally accepted these monsters to be a sign of the coming end?" John poked, hoping to receive clarification from what he to was hearing.

"Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying this scourge is a sign of this "Collapse" you yap about," Paul responded, the clarification disappointing Joseph and making John frown with narrow eyes, "What I am saying is... the scourge is only going to get worse. The hours of the night longer on each hunt. The beasts stronger. Vicar Laurence... succumbing to this plague is evident of this. What I offer is an accord... that I believe will benefit both our groups greatly."

John's eyes lightened up with intrigue and Joseph's with attentiveness and curiosity. Jacob... didn't know what to make of this though. Not without more information.

"You want more trade?" Jacob prompted, hoping the Hunter's Chief would spill more.

He didn't have to wait long for Paul to immediately reply, like he had been waiting on the question, "Well, not exactly. What I'm offering is a partnership... an alliance. For your brave men and women to join in on the hunts; to put an end to the scourge together."

Jacob paused at Paul's words. Realization hit that Paul didn't merely want to trade numbers; he wanted help in putting down the beast threat for good.

John was grinning ear to ear, taking a step forward to bring Paul's attention on the youngest of the brothers, "You're asking for more than just a trade then?"

Paul gave a half nod and clasped his hands together, "After the Night of Flames, we lost several of our best and oldest hunters to Lau- the beast's rampage, some included being family. Not only that, resources are getting lower as the hunts becomes more frequent and the nights longer, and incense can only ward off beasts for so long. Safe havens such as this monastery are being viewed as unreliable due to Laurence's affliction. Worse yet, the people have just lost their source of hope on the darkest night to date, and gentlemen; while I'm spectacular at giving advice and assurances over radio, I am no good a leader as I am a savvy tactician. Frankly boys... I need your help."

Jacob saw the exhaustion etched in Paul's face return, and for the first time since he's made contact with him, the eldest Seed could see the age weighing down on Paul's struggling shoulders. One man who has given it his all against an adversary far beyond his human limits, and doesn't put his pride above the safety of his people, unafraid of reaching out for help. Jacob could admire that, even if Paul was an opposing force to Joseph's vision.

Unless...

"And what do you offer in return?" Jacob inquired, giving Paul an expectant gaze. While Paul was not someone he could ever hope to influence, he was aware of the Hunter Chief's observations in behavioral patterns and societal expectations that allowed him to create a psychological profile on his target. Not too dissimilar from Jacob himself, "After all, you've already promised us your tools and protection, if we're forming an alliance that puts our people further into danger with the beasts, I expect you have some kind of compensation to give us, right?

As Jacob suspected, he wasn't disappointed with Paul's answer.

"Well, I'm quite aware you boys and your posse desire a shelter from your God's doomsday; and while I'm not superstitious, irony not lost on me, I am quite vengeful against these beasts," Paul spits out, the bloodthirsty wrath tinged in the very roots of his words, "They've made dens out of abandoned silos that keep them out of the sun. Impenetrable to raids and stubborn against our explosives. If we were to get rid of those beasts, that leaves a whole empty construction up for grabs. We hunters have no use for such things, not even as storage; but perhaps, with a bit of repairs and expansion here and there, it can provide your Project everything you want."

Jacob allowed a small smirk to slip past his stoic mask. He gazed to his brothers, and saw both Joseph and John were both as satisfied and elated with Paul's answers as he was.

Joseph took a moment to consider his answer to Paul's offer. While Jacob himself thought the opportunity wasn't something they should sit on, ultimately it was Joseph's final word as the Father that determined the outcome to this meeting.

Joseph glanced to Jacob and John, and received encouraging nods from both.

With one final contemplative thought over the deal, Joseph spoke once more, "These demons only desire to afflict destruction upon us all; including the sinners. They are vile in their service to their own blood lust. If any of us are to reach New Eden after the Collapse, this plague must be purged from its very roots. You have Eden's Gate' word; your hunter's call for help will not go unanswered."

Paul clapped his hands together as he chirpily stated, "Great! We'll go over the details at your place."

Joseph wasn't bothered by Paul's response. John though seemed to want to refute but refrained from ruining the mood. And Jacob was satisfied with the results and benefits the Project would be receiving. As the brothers prepared to make their way to the office door, Paul spoke up.

"Oh, uh, one last thing," Paul held their attention, curiosity piqued, "I request a favor. As you're aware of, my vicar is, well... dead."

Jacob heard Paul mutter out a half-ass "may he rest in pieces" before the older man continued, "And with that position open, there haven't been any candidates too eager to take on the role to calm and take responsibility over our masses. Frankly, I don't want our next Vicar to be too similar to Laurence. Trust and faith in the Hunter's are being called to question and I'd like a fresh young face to ease their worries."

Jacob narrowed his eyes at Paul, his instincts alerted towards the older man's odd request.

"What I'm trying to say Father Joseph is if you have someone you have complete trust and faith in, with proficient experience in easing the doubts of people sharing not unfounded concerns, young enough that they can differentiate themselves from Laurence, but adept enough to take on the role of my people's Vicar without much training. Anyone come to mind?"

Jacob raised a brow at Paul's description. Amongst the Project, he couldn't think much faithful within the family's, nor the herald's inner circle that could fit that description. If Paul was wanting one of them, Jacob still hit a blank wall, considering neither he nor John shared all the qualities Paul desired. The ideal vicar Paul desired didn't fit them anyway, with exception to Joseph and their newest so-called-

He paused, brows slightly furrowed. He glanced to Joseph, and saw that his brother reached the same conclusion but far from skeptical of Paul as he should be.

"I have someone in mind," Joseph answered Paul. Jacob watched as the Chief Hunter leaned back on his chair, a relaxed smile resting on his face, uttering a proud, or perhaps smug, "I knew you would."

And finally OC speech mannerisms for Marissa "Ress" Bishop, Ortega "Ore" Brantley and their father, Arcane Urias from my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore.

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (FO3, FONV & FO4)

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (I believe she's learned a lot of languages, especially when being raised by the Bishop family, considering many of their business partners would have been of different ethnicity. The one's she's strongly mastered are English, Chinese, Japanese and French)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (off-putting)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gestures / worrying lip / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity?/ friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes/ rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / gives a proper goodbye (if she likes you well enough) / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

ORTEGA "ORE" BRANTLEY (FALLOUT (1997), FO2, FO3, FONV)

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (he's likely picked up a few here and there)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (awkward)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gestures / worrying lip / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity?/ friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes/ rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / gives a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

ARCANE URIAS (FALLOUT (1997), FO2, FO3, FO4, FO76)

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 (English and his own) / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gestures / worrying lip / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands (too) close / stands at a distance

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity?/ friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes/ rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / gives a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

[friedesgreatscythe]

Maledictus…   [Cursed…] Somnum limax [The snail of sleep] Infici mur… [We’re infected…] Maledictus bestia [Cursed beast] Maledictus… [Cursed…] Mater nos inducas [Mother lead us]

Infici mur… [We’re infected…] Argentum aquae in tenebris [Silver in the dark waters]

Mater sanguine [The mother’s blood] Redemptionis nostrae [our redemption]

Exi et exi, et pleba tua salus [Get out and out, and your people shall be saved]

Vale, vale [Goodbye, goodbye,] Infici mur.. [We’re infected…] In tenebris aquae [In the dark waters]

Maledictus… [Cursed…] Et argentum aquae [And the silver of the waters] Infici mur… [We’re infected …] Et argentum aquae [And the silver of the waters]

Sanguine! [Blood!] Sanguine! [Blood!]

(Lyrics translation: bellringerkat)

Seriously y’all, please tell me someone else hears John Seed vibes in this?

The snail and the Mother refers to Kos in Bloodborne b t w

[lustyargonianmaid]

I was tagged by @fillianore & @chuckhansen to do this pic crew!

alice macneil (tlou/fc5) | rey (animal crossing)

enid malice (bloodborne) | eilish cooper (twc)

rhea bouchard (DS au) | harriet belle (rdr2)

tagging : @callmeredhood 🌱 @anniesburg 🌱 @tommymillers 🌱 @healingchurch 🌱 @myrcella 🌱 @denerims 🌱 @queennymeria 🌱 @teamhawkeye 🌱 @minilev 🌱 @starsandskies

[simplegenius042]

WIP Wednesday, My OC's As A Color Quiz & Meet My Character

Tagged by @spookyrares

Tagging @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai

WIPs for Life, Despair & Monsters and The Silver Chronicles, this Quiz for the Wings And Horns main cast, and lastly Meet My OC template for two OCs from A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. As you can probably guess, this post does have NSFW content in it. You can read the WIPs, quiz results and find the template below the cut:

First WIP is for my The Invitation WIP (AU?) called An Invite To Wine And Dine. This is either a flashback or a prologue, where Evie Jackson officially meets one peculiar Sir Enigma Malvolio. Or what I'd like to call; five minutes of semi-normalcy before the Horrors(TM) struck. Only warning here is my unfunny running gag, take a gander of what it is:

With her shift over, Evie gave a swift goodbye to Grace and made her way out of the building. She's certain Grace knew something was up, but thankfully gave her some space.

Evie appreciated it.

Out the door and in the afternoon sun, the waitress tried to keep composure over the rising grief that choked at her throat. Her breathing stuttered as she wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears from dropping down.

Crying outside her workplace wasn't what she wanted to do today, but her sorrow seemed to disagree. Sniffling, she turned to make haste back to her apartment, only to be stopped by a voice she'd recently gotten acquainted with.

"Jolly Ho, Ms Jackson!" Mr. Malvolio greeted from behind her. Evie turned around as soon as she had been addressed by the man.

He was leaning his shoulder against a pillar, his rounded handle cane acting as extra support. Or maybe it was for show, she couldn't be sure.

Facing him, she could see he was wearing the same dark blue tuxedo suit he had been wearing the night prior. Now in the sunlight and not in the dim-lighted event, she could could see that his hair was indeed dark, as well as his eyes. And now that they face-to-face, she was surprised by the confirmation that, yes; Mr. Malvolio was, in fact, a head or so shorter than Evie herself.

He grinned with a friendly and overly excited demeanor, though slightly better than a lecherous gaze, it was still oddly off-putting to Evie. She took note that he was older than her; late 30s at the least, maybe forties though.

Even so, she acknowledged his presence with a surprised, "Mr. Malvolio?"

"Please, Ms Jackson, call me Sir- oh," Malvolio paused, grin gone and lips thinned as his eyes narrowed, inspecting her face, "Uh, um, not to alarm you dear, but, hmm, your face seems a little... wet?"

Despite his clumsy observation, Evie swiftly wiped at her face, and not wanting to share her troubles with a stranger, quickly said, "Oh, uh, that's nothing."

Mr. Malvolio pursed his lips, scrutinizing her features, "Are you certain Ms Jackson?"

"Yeah," Evie lied, smacking her lips together, "I just had some tap water spray at me. Didn't have time to dry it off when my shift ended."

To her surprise, Mr. Malvolio didn't question her shitty story, and instead seemed to believe her, "Is that why you're in such a rush? I must warn you dear, with that much haste, you might trip over your legs, and the pavement's quite concrete," Mr. Malvolio gave a small chortle as he added, "Scrapes and bruises wouldn't do so well on your fine skin."

Evie, in spite of being confused on whether that was a sort of jab or some weird form of compliment from the man, gave a half-hearted laugh back, ignoring his words in favor of the burning question, "Uh, Mr. Malvolio, sorry to pry but hadn't you said you'd be making your way back home?"

"Eh, we missed the plane," Mr. Malvolio answered, chuckling humorlessly, "Honestly, American airports are the worst. So Denise and I will be extending our stay for a little while longer in good old New York."

Mr. Malvolio gestured far back behind him, and Evie spotted his bodyguard, adorning a black and red suit contrasting her employer's, watching them from under the shade of a cafe umbrella, the dark-tinted sunglasses still covering her eyes.

That makes some sense, Evie thought, but wondered, But why are you here?

As if reading her mind, Mr. Malvolio added, "And I wanted to personally thank you for such a delightful evening. As well as saving Denise from her nut allergy. She may not look like it... nor will she ever admit it... but deep down she is grateful, as am I."

Evie took another glance at Denise, and even from their far distance, she could tell the only expression she could read on Denise's face was one of apathy.

Regardless though, she smiled in thanks of Mr. Malvolio's gratitude, which seemed so sincere. Maybe he was merely giving platitudes to pat himself on the back, or uphold a reputation. But she cherished what she could.

"That's rather kind of you Mr. Malvolio," Evie stuttered out, feeling like a damn that was cracking, ready to burst. Grace was right, she realised, Maybe my self-esteem's needed a boost from kindness for some time now.

"Please Ms Jackson, it's Sir En-," he pauses, face scrunched and unreadable, as he quizzically asks, "Uh, Ms Jackson, are you certain a tap is the cause of those tears?"

Evie wiped again once more at her face, though she stopped when Mr. Malvolio offered a handkerchief.

She accepted it, bringing the clean cloth to dry her face of the tears. Mr. Malvolio observed her with curiosity, and she absentmindedly wondered if he had never seen a person cry before.

With a small thanks she handed the handkerchief back, which he surprisingly accepted back into his breast pocket. He gave what she assumed to be a comforting smile. She opened her mouth to say something- perhaps an apology, maybe a hasty goodbye- but could not bring the words out when he asked with surprising gentleness, "What terrible loss has afflicted you to bring forth such sadness, my dear?"

Evie hesitated, a moment long enough for her to consider whether telling this man; practically a stranger, about the woes that drown her. One glance to his mature face marked her answer though.

With a shaky breath, Evie revealed to who would be the second person this month of her troubles.

"My mother recently passed away," she told Mr. Malvolio, whose very expression shifted from gentle to unreadable once more.

Here's more of my FC5 Bloodborne AU WIP, where werewolves are involved in Hope County and not in the usual fun way, no these things legitimately massacre people and are beyond complex thought comprehension. Paul and Silva established the Hunters who go on annual nightly hunts to downsize the werewolf population with Eden's Gate help... which has lasted for almost ten years now so you can guess how well that's doing. Also, Faith is a Vicar because Paul's previous one, Obadiah Teal, turned into a big scary werewolf (that breathed fire) [Originally this vicar was named Laurence as reference to Bloodborne but ultimately found a character of my own from Paul's lore to play the part. Obadiah was Paul's lover back on the Archipelagos in The Silver Chronicles but here he's a lost lenore (and future boss fight) in this AU. Apologies for any confusion]. Witness Vicar Faith as she prepares herself for an evening Paul vaguely bothered to warn her about while doing some introspection, and how she yearns for Silva's words of assurances... and, uh, ahem, touch. CW: Minor reference to past suicidal idealization (because Faith), minor mentions of past drug-use (because Faith), maybe two descriptions implying lack of self-care, sexual themes, and, eh, explicit horniness? But it's like a sad longing for intimacy??? I tried my best at keeping it consistent. Anyway, read below:

Green mirrored green, a pair of eyes gazing into the same reflected pair of eyes. Lifeless. Dull. Like her Angels had once been before the Bliss became what it is today.

Faith scrutinized the petite figure before her; in nothing but her undergarments, light brown hair flowing freely over her shoulder, the jewelry and veil she would adorn on herself laid unattended on the vanity, holding close the white shawls and garb that made up her image, which seemed so ragged now. Of age and constant use? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Though, thankfully, her clothes condition were not as dire as the hand-me-down dress Joseph once gifted her, for what little time she owned it.

She wondered what had happened to it. She must have given it back to her brothers at some point, when it became clear she'd have no use to it. Had Joseph kept it, stored it away for safe keeping until the day he believed she'd return from this role? Was it collecting dust in some closet, discarded and forgotten, out of sight and out of mind? Like them? Or how she was now?

Had it been given to someone else? erupted a vile thought, Someone newer, younger and prettier?

When had been the last time her brothers had even visited her.

"When had been the last time he visited you, nuora?" Paul had softly, wearily asked her out of the blue once, as they stood side by side watching her brothers leave from the monastery's window after their last meeting.

Meetings of which were becoming thinner and thinner between duration. Enough time to greet, discuss progress of plans, then leave for weeks and months on end. Never enough to simply sit down and catch up on lost time.

Faith had given Paul a response full of puzzlement, one only meant to acknowledge the surface level of his question. One meant to evade a true answer. She couldn't remember what exactly it was though. Something along the lines of "what do you mean?" or "but we just did, silly?" or whatever mask she had to hide behind.

But she had found it to be all for naught, for it was naive of her to believe that Paul, of all the people she's met, would fall for such cheap tricks. And yet, he cared enough to rephrase his question, "When was the last time he visited just for you?"

Faith hadn't given an answer then. She couldn't find one now.

She huffed, and began to dress, slipping on the garb and shawls that made up Vicar outfit. Clothing of which felt so familiar to her body, as it had been amongst the most common clothes she's worn for nearly seven years now. The sleeves hugged her arms just as the garb fit her frame.

She decided to tighten the Vicar's loose attire last, focused on the jewelry and veil next. She pinned the jewels and gems along the hem of her shawls, the brooches strewn above her chest, and finally the pendant necklace, the most important piece of a Vicar, around her neck. Something that she would usually do instead of Faith.

From close behind her, long and strong arms would snake around to the front of her, to bring the cold touch of the pendant against the warmth of her exposed collarbone's skin.

It was not only the pendent that her Hunter would assist her in, but the laces behind the Vicar's back. Though, Faith mused, my adoring Silva would often struggle to keep on task in favor of more... pleasurable distractions.

Faith's lips curved up into a small smile, the Vicar gazing into the mirror of her not-yet-tightened and loose clothing. She felt an ache within her, and closed her eyes. Not to neglect her duties, but to... indulge, especially before tonight comes.

"You're a Vicar now, after all," Silva had once told her in their very room, sultry voice dripping with barely restrained desire, months after her inauguration and setting up this routine with this... new teasing and exciting tension between them. The ghost of her breath trailed along Faith's exposed neck, like little kisses, causing goosebumps to ripple along the skin. Silva's lips were close enough that it wouldn't take much distance for her to press down on her flesh.

She remembered how bated her breath was, the blood running across her cheeks. Silva must have noticed the red, as she seemed more enamored from the mirror's reflection. Hands on Faith's shoulders, Silva's lips whispered into the shell of her ear, "Here, as our Vicar, you can do as you please. And the Old Hunters will obey. Obadiah forgot that. So have the recruits. But a first hunter, like myself, has not, and will not. We are not meant to restrain our own nature. As long we do not shirk our duties in favor of overindulgence..."

Faith shivered in pleasure as Silva's lips grazed her skin, kissing along her jaw and cheek. Faith sighed, pleased by the contact. She turned her head to face Silva. Her hair was dark and skin were darker than hers, and so were her clothes. Vibrant green orbs gazed into the shining silver of the Chief Hunter's protege. Silva was Enlightened, just like her father.

"...Then we will be able to share our passions without incident," Silva stated, staring into Faith's eyes, slowly closing in

In those eyes were a beckoning; a need for something human to anchor her to this Earthly plane. A Hunter who wanted a Vicar. She, the necessary violence that bordered on the line between primal darkness and humanity whose insight of the world's darkest shades far exceeded Joseph's own... and her, the Monastery's only guiding light that gave promises of hope for seeing the next dawn, knowing yet clueless all the same, in contrast to Silva's sight.

They couldn't be so different from each other. So much contrast that the idea of any sort of union should baffle Faith.

And yet...

Faith gave one glance to Silva's tempting lips, and accepted the invite, crashing her own against the Hunter's. The latter recovered quickly, and pushed all her passion, all her want, all her needs into this one connection. Faith had hummed delightfully, and gasped when Silva's teeth bit down on her bottom lip teasingly.

Shamefully, or maybe shamelessly, she had moaned, which only encouraged Silva's endeavor. Faith, struck with the need to touch, caressed Silva's face, pressing her palm to hold Silva's face.

Faith was almost surprised by how quickly- how greedily Silva leaned into the contact. She smiled into the Hunter's lips though, amused and pleased; the strongest, most dangerous and powerful woman alive, was nothing but mush in the palm of Faith's hand.

Jacob would call this weakness. John would call this lust.

Faith believed this to be worth worshiping.

She broke away from the kiss, hand still on Silva's face. The eye contact they shared spoke in clear volumes of what they both wanted. She could imagine that this wasn't what Joseph had in mind when he sent her over here. Likelihood was, he wouldn't want her to discard the principles he passed down to her even if it meant a rival's destruction.

Faith knew she could stop this. That she could cut this connection from the bud before she defiled Joseph's Word any further.

She knew this, and still curled her hand behind Silva's head, rolling her shoulders so her loosened garb could shrug down to expose more skin. Faith tilted her head so Silva's lips could reach her naked neck, inviting her hunter to ravage at the skin, with promises of more.

With her hand around Silva's head, she guided the other woman to where she needed her attention to be.

Faith traced a hand over her neck, collarbone and covered shoulder. She envisioned the sensual kisses, wet lips pecking at her skin and the loving bites that brought her euphoria.

She trailed that hand down her chest, using her spare to grip her hip, re-enacting from memory how Silva's hands caressed her body, feeling up every curve, every spot, everywhere she could touch.

She hummed, shallow breaths escaped her lips, ecstasy coiled as one hand palmed at her breast, while the other reached lower and lower.

Silva's fingers brushed at her Vicar's clothed sex, and with little self-control to hold her back, the Hunter began to massage Faith's clit. Her lips and teeth continued to cover Faith's skin with a Hunter's affection. Soft murmurs of praise under a native tongue faintly spoken each time Silva tasted the Vicar's flesh, leaving faint bruises, but withholding the strength to break it.

Faith had extended her arms to steady herself against the mirror as Silva had her chase after a high that she was sure no drug could compare to. Her skin felt ablaze with euphoria, a sensation Silva had once admitted rivaled a Hunter's bloodlust during nightly hunts.

Those words had elicited a smug pride that she's sure she'd be shamed for if she expressed it within the Project's Compound.

Grinding against Silva, she could feel the other woman's own excitement digging behind her, and though her actions motivated the Hunter to please her Vicar, it was apparent she was focused on bringing out Faith's pleasure first.

Her legs shook as Silva further stimulated the sensations of her body, Faith's rapid breaths replaced by loud moans of building ecstasy, as Silva's hands massaged her breast and rubbed at her clit and cover her flesh in hickeys.

Faith could feel herself getting closer, strands of hair stuck to her forehead, the pleasure Silva's helped her build up accumulating, with a bated breath, a final release-

"Vicar Faith?" a rough voice belonging to a hunter called out from behind the door with a knock, snapping the woman in question out of her feverish state. The Hunter's voice, who Faith realized belonged to Nadi, continued, "You've been getting ready for a while now. Are you alright?"

Faith, though suffering from irritation, disappointment and a lack of satisfying conclusion to her personal indulgences, managed to reply while only sounding a little breathless, "Yes, I'm fine Hunter Nadi. Just struggles with back laces."

Nadi didn't sound unconvinced from Faith's response as the Hunter stated, "Very well ma'am. I'd just like to inform you that the attendants are being gathered up for this evening's service. And, uh, the Chief Hunter wanted me to add that one of... Eden's Gate' vehicles had arrived?"

Faith felt her blood run cold, and after a momentary silence, Nadi asked, "Vicar Faith, out of curiosity... where will you be going?"

Faith swallowed, letting out a calming exhale as she assuredly said, "Nowhere but here Hunter Nadi. I may have to make an errand to the Convent though, but I'll be escorted by your fellow hunters. Inform the Project members that I will not be leaving the Monastery for tonight."

Hunter Nadi accepted the answer with a small "of course ma'am" and Faith heard the woman's footsteps became fainter and fainter.

Faith huffed out in relief, looking herself in the mirror. She was a little red, and a bit hot and bothered. While the interruption was certainly personally undesirable, she was glad Nadi informed her of their now leaving guests.

Pulling the loose laces behind her to tighten the Vicar's garb, she reached for the final piece; the veil, adorned with a crown of flowers and three red gems. She always wondered what significance this Vicar garb held. It wasn't too dissimilar from a bride's dress, but far more intricate and detailed (and time consuming to put on) than the dress Joseph gifted her.

Paul said that it was designed to make her look ethereal to their converts, trustworthy and responsible, someone to seek guidance and find hope in.

Meanwhile Silva's only interest in the Vicar's garb was to get Faith out of it.

Not that I minded it, she thought coyly.

Many nights she spent in the other women's chambers, or they stayed in her own, pursuing a fiery passion after an uneventful service, or mending the Hunter's wounds after a long hunt. Then there were the quiet moments, where the only intimacy either shared was an embrace.

Neither could keep their hands off one another; touch was as important as their words, letting one know the other was still present.

Which was far from what Joseph had wanted her to do. Her role was to hold influence over the Monastery, to lower their guard and slowly introduce the Word. Keep the sinners from temptation until the beasts were eradicated and the Reaping came, and she'd reunite with her brothers at the Compound, and the false shepherds were both dead.

Though once her escorts return to Joseph without her, Faith was certain he'd figure out that she was one who fell for temptation. Especially if he finds out she confessed to Paul about the plan, and aided him in setting up Joseph's arrest.

Not for Paul though. Nor for the hunters and the converts.

Joseph had given her so much; a new name, a purpose, a family, a second chance at living. Once she was a girl who could only find escape through the needle, tip-toeing between the line of life and death. And he transformed her into someone else; someone worth more. Breathing a into her a new life that she didn't think was possible within her. Nurturing her with his word, with guidance.

She let go of Tracey for him, even though she wished her best friend had stayed. She had left Rachel behind for him. She gave him the Bliss and Angels. She gave him her entire being, to mold and shape in his image.

Sure, the family he took her into wasn't perfect; despite their similarities, John resented her for the attention and praise Joseph sung of her, and she wasn't naive to think Jacob cared for her. He's sat through two sisters; really, how important would a third be?

But that hadn't mattered to her at the time; to Faith, Joseph's was all that mattered.

And that was true, for a time. Just like it had been true for Tracey. And she would always be grateful for him, just as she had been for her former friend.

But she couldn't let Silva die. Not after three painful years trying to wake her up.

Here is the OCs become color quiz results for the main four characters of Wings And Horns; Archangel Metatron, Cadet Azriel, Xiang Ba'al and Jezebel Ba'al. Read below:

ARCHANGEL METATRON

By the finale, this is most definitely true for Metatron.

CADET AZRIEL

This quiz must know Azriel's future because damn!

XIANG BA'AL

Not really Xiang's style. He's a good dad but he's also an extremist in many ways.

JEZEBEL BA'AL

Jezebel's been through some tough shit, I don't think pinning all the blame on her is really fair.

[Meet My Character for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Specifically Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen]

And lastly Meet My Character sheets for my Courier Ryder and Alph Dolen from my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series.

COURIER RYDER (FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS)

Her “Pronouns” are supposed to be:

She/Her

Her "Defining Features" state: Reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, has scars from past fights on her face, one noticeably at the edge of her left brow, wears riot gear with a courier's drip but not the helmet.

ALPH DOLEN THE LONE WANDERER (FALLOUT 3)

His "Defining Features" state:

Ginger, hazel eyes, predominantly wears wasteland survivor gear with Tunnel Snakes Jacket, after being ghoulified his skin starts greying and becomes sunken, starts losing hair.

Blank Template for those who want to use it:

[simplegenius042]

LATE Music Monday, WIP Wednesday and OC Familiars Quiz

Tagged by @imogenkol @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes and @socially-awkward-skeleton

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

With Kinktober over I can catch up to all the Music Mondays, WIP Wednesdays and Quizzes I missed. Music for The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters. WIPs will be for The Silver Chronicles, two focusing on the Bloodborne AU while one shows the Coroner!Silva AU. This Quiz will be for characters from my Wings And Horns WIP and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series. Hope you enjoy below the cut:

At the SCP Foundation, there is often hours or days worth of breaching at the sites, whether it be because of a restless anomaly breaking out once more or an experiment gone wrong. This is no different in SCP: Confining Spaces from The UnTitledverse. Sure, some things escape. And sure, personnel die. But eventually a task force is set in to re-contain the anomalies and save the surviving personnel, or any trace of the site is wiped off the face of this Earth depending on how bad things will be. But ultimately, everything is "Fine and Dandy" in the SCP Foundation:

"I was there to witness The victim of a sickness He wants the world to notice That he's not worth the focus He could make an entrance But could not make a friend Now he's got lots of different scratches From trying here and then

And I say liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water You can keep it well and hidden No one's perfect, but it's a living

Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to high, or a little to low Got low self-esteem and vertigo But he thinks he's fine and dandy Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to far, or a little to close He's pretending, that everybody knows He thinks he's fine and dandy

Ring a ring of roses Whoever gets the closest He comes and he goes As the war of the roses Mother wouldn't kiss him 'Cause of his condition Now he's stuck in a prison For his strange disposition

Liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water Do as you will, it's much less work to ignore But if it don't feel good What are you doing it for?

Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to high, or a little to low Got low self-esteem and vertigo But he thinks he's fine and dandy Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to far, or a little to close He's pretending, that everybody knows He thinks he's fine and dandy

Liberate your sons and daughters The bush is high, but in the hole there's water Do as you will, it's much less work to ignore But if it don't feel good What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for? What are you doing it for?

Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to high, or a little to low Got low self-esteem and vertigo But he thinks he's fine and dandy Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to far, or a little to close He's pretending, that everybody knows He thinks he's fine and dandy

Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to high, or a little to low Got low self-esteem and vertigo But he thinks he's fine and dandy Hey ho, here he goes Either a little to far, or a little to close He's pretending, that everybody knows He thinks he's fine and dandy!"

The main crew of protagonists in Life, Despair & Monsters is made up of menagerie of original and canon characters, most of whom have been negatively affected (that's an understatement) by Sir Enigma Malvolio but I don't think I've discussed who exactly they're made up of? So here's (thus far) the cast out for Malvolio's head; Haoyu Anabuki, along with the DDLC crew Monika, Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki (all except Haoyu were targeted by Malvolio in my Doki Doki Literature Club WIP); Hatsukami Hinode, Icarus Galatos and Xavier Tulip, in addition to Hatter and their fellow heroic partners from France, Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Kagami/Ryuko and Luka/Viperion (Marinette was personally targeted by Malvolio while the others were affected by association in my Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir WIP); Sonya and Jennifer (both victims of Malvolio in my Sonnie's Edge fic); Guenevere & O.R.I.O.N, as well as Morgana, King Arthur and Lancelot (Guenevere & O.R.I.O.N were victims of Malvolio while the latter three were affected by association in my Guenevere WIP); Lora (not personally affected nor targeted, just in it for the adventure, from my Arcane: League of Legends WIP); Rico (affected by association, from my Cyberpunk 2077 WIP); and lastly Sydney, Dina and Sydney (targeted by Malvolio in my I Am Not Okay With This WIP). Now this may be updated with future Love Death + Robots characters or others from other fandoms depending if I can figure out a way for them all to naturally come together. Malvolio actually stopped caring about all of them when he got the data he wanted from them and left, however, when they kill his prized specimen, Edith "Evie" Bloodleech, that's when they get his attention. Here's a song I believe describes both the protags and Malvolio's thought processes toward each other:

"The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor."

"Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Freaks at, freaks at, freaks at, freaks at-" "Tell me where the freaks at?!"

("Hey!")

"We get that bass thumpin', people jumpin' all over the world We got them speakers pumpin' Timmy Trumpet for the woman with curves Got that freak flow, freak show Welcome to the cicus Let the leaders lead, preachers preach Welcome to the circus!

Close the curtains on 'em if they're actin' like they never heard us See, we do this for a purpose just to keep that fire burnin' And we don't need no water, let that mother-mother burn Timmy, play your trumpet, let the people go berserk!"

("Hey!")

("Hey!")

"The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor."

"Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Tell me, tell me, where the freaks at? Freaks at, freaks at, freaks at, freaks at-" "Tell me where the freaks at?!"

First snippet of the FC5/Bloodborne AU features the surprise introduction of Tracey Lader as the Hunter of Hunters! For those who don't know, the purpose of the Hunter of Hunters in Bloodborne (in the game it was Eileen the Crow) was to give mercy killings to Hunters who went insane from their blood lust or kill hunters who probably defected/threaten the safety of everyone. They wear crow garb and plague doctor like clothes (and mask to likely avoid the risk of being infected by the werewolf/Scourge Beast Plague (including the Ashen Blood Plague) with two sickle-like daggers called the "Blade of Mercy". Anyway, this is like two-and-a-half or less hours before Joseph's arrest, and Tracey is (kind of) chilling out with her fellow hunters (who may or may not become her victims depending if they can control their blood lust), and while they're mucking about, she suspects somethings up. Enjoy below:

'The Hunter of Hunters is a watchmen who admonishes those who were once our fellow brothers and sisters but have succumbed to the drunk haze of their own blood lust,' she recalled Paul inform her as he initiated her into the role, 'By taking this Oath, Tracey Lader, you not only adorn yourself the weight of the Garb of Crows and the Blades of Mercy, but you alone burden yourself with the sworn duty of putting your comrades, be they man or beast, friend or foe, out of their maddening misery, should they lose themselves.'

Tracey remembered how Paul sliced across the palm of her left hand, to allow the deep flow of blood to emerge from the necessary cut and had her place her bloody hand on the engraving that all Hunters had sworn bloodlessly to. Like she had once done. However, at that time, with her bleeding palm smearing the Rune of Hunters, it had felt different.

'Do you, Tracey Lader, as the next Hunter of Hunters, pledge yourself to remain strong in the face of your blood addled adversaries... to prevail with resilience and resist against the seduction of your own blood lust... and above all else, show a gracious disposition when taking the life of those you will call your comrades?'

Tracey kept thinking back to the very moment she had pledged herself to this life with a hardened yet sincere "Yes". How heavy the decision felt, to hold herself to the standards her Oath demanded. How Paul alone had crowned her the Hunter of Hunters, with no one to witness her inauguration, but the shadows of those she must follow. She brushed a thumb at the intricately-patterned badge of the crow. The only one to have ever been made.

Bestowed upon another escape from the pain and rage of facing the one person who she could not face, lest her tough persona fall. The ghost who roamed the monastery in those white shawls and was dressed as if she was a bride, a constant reminder of her failure she'd fail to endure if she chose to stay.

Tracey breathed in the floral incense in her mask's beak to calm her nerves, before exhaling. It had been years since she had last visited either the Convent or the Monastery, and many more since she's even spoken with... her.

She spent most of her time in the refurbished Prosperity where the Hunter's Chapel resided, a small chapel-like structure no different from Jerome's in Fall's End or the Lamb of God Church, although it was a story taller than the other two, with the bell tower affectionately referred to as the "Crow's Nest" as her predecessors inhabited the space.

Tracey had been less than impressed by the inheritance, but it was... something for her.

Even if it was in the Henbane, she thought with disgust. The region had undergone... some changes throughout the years, and not just from the Hunter's and Peggies use of it.

Weird shit was just happening here, and she wasn't just referring to the Bliss. No, strange sightings were being reported; some range from dancing women whose laughs echoed in the night sky, plus claims of dark shadow-like figures lurking from the mist or hiding in the corners of their eyes, and the smoke bellowing from makeshift chimneys coming from the abandoned Misery.

Those, however, Tracey personally believed were either Bliss hallucinations or just the cult being fucking shifty, and was also explained as such.

However the other reports were... less explainable. There had been some sort of reports of cloaked and hooded masked figures walking to or from the Peggies Pilgrimage, ringing bells and carrying stretches of wrapped up bodies either collected or disposed of. Not to mention the reports of unfamiliar beasts lurking in the foliage, bio-luminescent fluids sprayed on the few buildings that were here, the disappearances that neither matched what they've come to expect from both beasts and Peggies alike.

Hell, Miss Mable complained about the fucking moon, all because Peaches "didn't act like her usual self", even though she made the claim after a hunt had been completed, so Tracey dismissed that as just Peaches hating the hunt.

She sighed and leaned back against the wood, observing how the sun descended lower, reflecting off the lens of her mask. It would only be another two hours or so before the Sheriff's Department would come arrest Joseph... or so Paul had informed her.

It was... shocking when he said those words over the radio. After years of establishing a good connection with Joseph and his cult in spite of their shady operations, years of listening to her and many other's concerns but dismissing them in an assuring voice, and years of standing up for the Seeds in the face of backlash and gifting them two out of the three bunkers that were dens to the beasts... he finally does something about that wretched man.

At least, it's what Tracey assumes to be his doing. Likely couldn't ignore the warning signs with the recent spur between the county's residents and the Peggies decade-long growth of suspicion and resentment. Maybe trying to save face.

Regardless, if it leads to the downfall of Joseph and his cult, and the Sheriff's Department to get off their asses, Tracey can't not be satisfied by the outcome, right?

Though there was a lingering feeling, just at the back of her mind. A doubtful, bad feeling. And a few questions.

What does Paul get out of this?

It's not like Paul to just let his main ally who supplies him with numbers and resources against the scourge beasts to just be arrested. Hell, even with the beasts numbers almost depleted, they were still an issue. She hated to admit it, but Joseph and his family had been a fundamental reason to why they were succeeding thus far.

She pondered if Paul is doing this to gain all of Eden's Gate' resources and property. Some of which would present an advantage against the remaining beasts, especially if Joseph really had been proven as an obstacle to their goals.

Not only that, but it also would mean Paul would no longer have all of them bound to the restrictions of the Seeds' deal.

While impressive if Paul had truly planned that out, it brought up the problem of how Paul could stake claim on those resources if Paul and the Hunter's weren't collectively affected by the Peggies actions, personal bias and experience notwithstanding. Thinking more on it, Tracey noted how hush-hush Paul had sounded about Joseph's coming arrest.

She's made her objective assumptions on the reasons why Joseph would be getting cuffed, but she never got a clear confirmation from Paul himself before he cut off communication.

The sun blared while the sky grew more orange, and Tracey looked away from it. A reminder of her next question.

Why has Paul allowed this to happen now?

The timing itself didn't sit right with her... not the fact he's allowed this to happen nine years late, but instead with the growing darkness from every second that goes by, the sun gaining closer to the horizon.

She'd thought if Joseph was going to be arrested, Paul would have it occur during the day, or at the very least, at a time dawn would arrive.

Not late evening when the sun was setting. Not at dusk. Not at a time where by the time the Sheriff's Department arrived to Joseph's Compound, they'd all be violating curfew. Not at a moment where the Hunters would need to prep for a potential hunt.

Which lead to her final question...

Why was she and the rest of the Hunters all on stand by?

By now, the Hunters would have gathered their preferred weapons, mapped out the roads and areas where the beasts would most likely linger, set up the traps for the Sanctuary Hunters fortifying and guarding populated areas like Fall's End, the Monastery, the Convent, as well as Eden's Gate property and bunkers.

Plus here, she grimly noted, seeing no signs of the heavily garbed protectors. Nor of Alexander and his squire, Hannah.

Usually, Tracey would be the first to leave... after all, the Hunter of Hunters must take to the shadows during a hunt, and keep tabs on her comrades at all instances, and be swift and effective at the signs of their consumption to darker impulses.

But not this time. Paul had specifically ordered to stand by and await further orders. Not just for her, but some of her fellow hunters as well.

She glanced over to what was once the mayor's office; now a glorified lounge set up by Boshaw and Drubman Jr, with cushioned office chairs dragged out and set about a small bonfire with desks that had bottles of beer and pizza boxes.

The two were fooling about; Sharky blabbering on about some nonsense while fucking around with the parts of his flamethrower, and although Jess didn't seem too annoyed with Sharky's topic of conversation, as she pretended to inspect her arrow, Tracey noticed how she tensed whenever the device branched its aim almost towards her.

Hurk was throwing knives at the empty beer bottles he set up for target practice... to a surprising amount of success, to his delight.

The only one she couldn't find amongst the menagerie was Grace.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?"

Tracey turned to look beside her. Speak of the devil and he may appear, she thought to herself, though replace "devil" with "ally" and "he" with "she" and Tracey found Grace Armstrong in her dark green leather attire. It was reminiscent of her military uniform, but much suited for a hunting beasts rather than dispelling enemies.

"It's the middle of winter," Tracey pointed out gruffly, though Grace didn't seem too phased by her tone, instead she just snorted at her reply.

"Don't you want to at least get some fresh air before you use up all your incense?" Grace inquired, tone neutral. Though Tracey wasn't bothered by it, she understood the other woman's just looking out for her.

However, that didn't mean she wanted to be unprepared in case Paul's orders had some solidity behind it.

"Technically, I'm on the clock," she refuted with an excuse, eyeing the sun's descent closely, "We're all on the clock, and I want to be ready once the Chief Hunter clarifies further commands. And orders are orders."

Grace gave an understanding nod and appeared to take the hint to not push further, but she did say, "I understand. Though hadn't the Chief also ordered for us to stick close together?"

Tracey, with a tilting head, did in fact recall that, "Yeah...?"

"Then you wouldn't mind joining the rest of us by the fire then?" Grace responded with a raised brow. Tracey stared at her with wide eyes, though Grace couldn't likely tell from the beaked mask. Failing to come up with an immediate reply, Grace takes notice and simply states, "You don't have to. I know Boshaw and Drubman are... extreme company."

Tracey snorted at her words, Extreme is an understatement for any member of the Powder Kegs. How Paul approved of the coven was beyond her.

Last snippet of the FC5/Bloodborne AU (before we switch over to the Coroner AU) takes place many, many, many hours and I imagine chapters (probably somewhere in the midway point) after Tracey's last few hours of rest before she is fighting for her damn life. Here is a flashback of Tracey's reaction to Faith becoming their new Vicar after a year or so of being a regular Hunter and never seeing her face after the split, as well as Paul promoting her to Hunter of Hunters. Enjoy below: [TW: Descriptions of decomposing desecrated corpses, maybe borders on gore(?), weird plants and Character Death]

Tracey looked across the treeline through the dark purple shade of the clocktower's window, curled up against the window sill's wall, her hand gripping at the knee of her pants.

Rage, sorrow and confusion were mixing at the forefront of her mind. Wondering... why? Why, why, why, why? Why her? Of all people, why her?!

Tracey didn't think she'd find an answer, until she heard him climbing his way up the ladder to the head of the clocktower, ascending with a creak from each step he put his weight on.

Not far long, she glanced to see the black fingerless leather gloves grip at the last step of the ladder, and the familiar sight of blonde dyed hair was first to ascend as Paul pulled himself up.

He was out of breathe by the time her crawled onto the wooden floor, though she didn't blame him; after all, the clocktower had a lot of ladders required to climb up until one is to reach the top. She only did it because it's the most isolated room in the Monastery.

Which is why Paul must have found her so quickly. She kept her eyes to the window as he looked her way, but through the reflection she could see his hazel eyes perk up just as his lips curved into his signature jovial and excited smile.

"Ah, I knew you'd be here," Paul commented, not noticing the cold glare she sent his way through the glass pane, "Kamski reckoned you ran off, but I begged to differ. Now he owes me ten snails."

He let out a little laugh as he stood up, though when he noticed how she kept her gaze to the view, it faltered to a flat end.

Still keeping on his smile, he adjusted the brace around his left leg (at this point, the monastery had given up on trying to stop him from exerting that leg in spite of very valid medical concerns that he ignores, though on the plus side, Kamski still gives him shit) before he took a step closer as he chose not to beat around the bush, "I had noticed you weren't present for Vicar Faith's inauguration ceremony, which got me worried. Uh, you missed out quite the spectacle."

Tracey cocked her head as she tried to put her emotions into words towards Paul. Though this action seemed to have prompted Paul to tell her what she had intentionally missed out on, "Oh, yes. Once Faith was established the title of Vicar, Silva had taken the initiative in swearing the Old Hunter's to oath her. Took her hand, bowed down as she made her vows, and ended it with a kiss to the new Vicar's knuckles. A tad dramatic, even for her? Sure, but a passionate display of fealty I never expected from her."

Paul trailed off, mumbling some words Tracey didn't care to hear as her fist dug into her leg.

"Why her?" she finally asked the man, though her quiet tone made the words sound rougher when they left her lips.

Paul hummed in question, and approached closer. He placed a hand onto her shoulder, but she whacked it aside, to both of their surprise. She recovered quickly though, looking straight into his surprised hazel eyes as she inquired, louder, "Why Rachel?"

Paul blinked at her, clueless and ignorant, trying to make sense of her question, "Rachel? Your best friend?"

"Former best friend," she hissed out in correction, and grew hotter from the frustration of him not figuring it out, "The one who stayed with that cult to become daddy's little flower girl. THAT Rachel."

Paul sputtered at her words, shocked and confused as he tried to wrap his head around it.

"But Faith can't be Rachel? She's the Seed brothers sister... unless you're insinuating that Joseph adopted Rachel and had her become...," Paul trailed off as he paused and really thought about it, thinking back on things he's heard at some point and corroborating it with this recent information before reaching a realization, "...Huh."

Tracey waited for him to come to the rational conclusion of an apology or even go and rectify the mistake of bringing an untrustworthy ally into his inner circle, but instead he puts a gloved hand to his chin, lost in thought, "That's... actually very useful information. Grazie for letting me know."

Tracey stared at Paul, exasperation only fueling the growing embers of anger as she stood up, "That's it? THAT'S FUCKING IT?! That's all you have to say? Why is it good to know? Why did you put her in a position of power close enough to your own? Why have the Hunters allied with Eden's Gate, despite what I told you about them? WHY, Paul?!"

Chest heaving and breathless, Tracey tried to hold on to her ire, to direct it at someone she thought knew better. Because that'd be easier than confronting HER, wouldn't it?

In spite of her outburst, Paul regarded her with nothing but a concerned gentleness. His gaze was reminiscent of when he first met her; the same balance of pity and empathy he showed when he spoke to a teen with no home and no place in the world, given to her once more while she was barely entering her twenties now.

It was the same, it had to be; there was no condescension, no manner of coddling, just... understanding and patience.

She wondered if this is something he learned as a father while raising Silva. A brief thought came after that too, 'Does he see himself as a father to me?'

She dismissed it though. Paul was like this with every one of his Hunters. She supposed he attain some of his more fatherly qualities into his leadership, but she could understand that the authority of both roles could intersect.

She didn't need a father. Never had. But she respected Paul. He ran a tight ship based on comradery and loyalty, and wasn't afraid to get dirty with them if the situation called for it, something she can't say the same about Joseph and his brothers during her time in the Project, even with his whole bullshit spiel of "I am your father and you are my children".

She supposed, thinking back on it, she had assumed Rachel to be the same as her.

Maybe she should have brought Rachel here instead of listening to that old coot.

Paul slowly moved closer to her, a slight limp to his braced left leg. He was tall, at least a head taller than her, but he wasn't intimidating, not to her at least. Silva was intimidating, but only because it was like she knew things that Tracey didn't, and the latter was fine with that.

Even then, fear wasn't something used to lead here. Fear was a reminder that they were still human.

'Fear is one step away from courage, if you're willing to confront it,' she remembered Elsa once say. The woman was a box of mysteries, and not one Tracey had the patience to unwrap.

"I know you're worried," Paul acknowledged, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, "I understand your concerns. If I had my way, I'd want nothing to do with the Seeds. But we need help against the beasts, and as luck would have it, the Project has the people and the resources we can utilize, in exchange for giving them the beasts' dens after we eradicate them."

Tracey shook her head as she tried walk past him, but he place another hand on her shoulder. Although it was gentle and held little strength, she decided not to push past him, and let him say his piece.

"I'm not being foolish here, Tracey," he assures her, giving a small pat, "I know their not trustworthy. I know bringing Faith in as our Vicar is a risk. I wouldn't do this unless I was confident I could counter anything they could try."

Tracey felt her outrage begin to dissipate, although it didn't leave completely. She was confused on why he'd still do this in spite of the risks, "Then... why?"

Paul looked away as he pondered an answer; or perhaps, whether or not he should disclose the information to her. Looking back to her though, he cracked and gave in, "Because game recognizes game. They're planners. Schemers. I am aware of the threat they pose, and I want to be able to keep a close eye on them, or at least have leverage."

Tracey narrowed her eyes at Paul; while she was glad he wasn't being ignorant to the threat and acknowledged the danger Eden's Gate can pose, she was alarmed by his last sentence, "Is Ra- Faith leverage?"

Paul cringed. Another contrast from what she's seen between Joseph and Paul; one kept a serene and almost otherworldly act up, as if he was close but still a messiah to be idiolized from afar... like the moon, in a weird sense. Beautiful and appealing from afar, but ugly and desolate up close.

Meanwhile, time after time, she's consistently seen just how... honest Paul was in his expressions. Joy and sadness, amusement and annoyance, patience and anger, pride and disappointment. And sometimes embarrassment. He was so... human, that it almost made her forget how she knew he and his daughter hide things from many people.

But that mostly related to whatever was in their past, some inner workings of the Hunters, and however the fuck 'Enlightenment' works. And frankly, two of those were none of her business, and all three didn't affect the public as far as she was concerned.

Paul spoke once more, though more hesitant she noticed, and less explanatory, "...I don't intend her to be. I really can't say much else than that, Tracey."

Tracey however wanted to confirmation, "But if it came down to it... would you?"

Paul frowned, looking almost apologetic, "I can't get things to go the direction I hope it will go... then sì. I don't like it, and I can guess how you feel, but it'll be the only advantage we have to keep Joseph on a leash. Or at dealt with."

Paul saw how conflict riddled Tracey's face, and he added, "I'm not going to hurt her. That had never been the intention when bringing her in, and you know, that's not what we do here. I need you to trust me, cara puma. Trust that... I can help her see something better than him."

Tracey looked to Paul, how his hazel eyes implored for her to believe in him. Such sincerity that she'd never see through Joseph's serenity. She gave a sigh, "I... guess I can trust you."

Paul looked relieved. Tracey though thought of those white shawls around the dress of the Vicar's garb, crowned by flowers and three blood gems forged by their rune masters Isiah and Gemini. A hauntingly beautiful visage that would roam these halls, and a reminder of how she wasn't enough for her in the end.

And she couldn't face her. Not now. So, she had to tell him, "But... Paul I can't be in the same building as her. I don't want to leave the Hunter's Coven... I really don't but if there's no other option...."

She left the rest unsaid, though seeing how Paul noticed her distress, she realized she didn't have to say it. He understood.

She expected him to accept her words as a resignation, but was surprised by his next words, "There is one..."

Tracey's attention was captured, and Paul continued, "I had wanted to talk to you about this for some time now. You see... in light of Hunter Elsa's death, there had been no successors, whether chosen by her will or volunteering themselves, to take up her mantle of the Hunter of Hunters."

"Silva and I had a discussion about it... trying to figure out who could be a worthy successor to her sorella," Paul explained, and Tracey felt her heat beat pace up as Paul regained eye contact with her, "And we agreed that maybe... if you're willing... it could be you."

Tracey, to put it simply, was at a loss of words. Paul, however, was not, so he continued, "Again, you can refuse. It's less an offer and more of a burden to ask of you. But it might help you get what you want... you can keep to yourself, you're not required to be with groups, only fight when you need to, and you don't have to set foot on the Monastery again. You'll be stationed at Prosperity in the Henbane, where most of the other Hunters reside. You won't ever have to cross paths with Faith, as we're mostly keeping her here and likely visits elsewhere, but not Prosperity."

"It's not ideal, but it's yours if you- woah!" Paul had to balance himself from the weight of the young woman hugging into him. Tracey couldn't fathom how a clusterfuck of a misunderstanding in the form of an accidental kidnapping lead to her finding like-minded people who were ready to fight for the county's freedom against the scourge. Nor the fact they show respect to her as a person.

"Thank you," she softly whispered, the gratitude carrying more weight than just this offer.

Paul slowly returned the embrace, lightly and clearly trying to avoid being too clingy, but he was at least relaxed.

He gave a small calming pat to her back, the rays of sunlight breaking through the window, shining a purple hue through the clocktower's tinted glass , "Anything for my Hunters."

--------

In the darkness that expanded in the maze of the catacombs, the decaying plant growth crunched under the weight of Tracey's boots, despite her cautious steps.

Through her mask's lens, she could see vines and moss cling dead to the walls, the ceiling and the ground. Mold spread along the walls and ceilings, sewage dripping from old rusted pipes and dust circulated in the air. But that wasn't all; there were two other unidentifiable flora growths in this labyrinth.

The first was a fat, pulsing bio-luminescent fungus growing from the cracks of the floor, spewing out what was clearly spores and leaking... something out of its cavity hole. Tracey was thankful to her beaked mask, breathing in the floral incense instead... whatever is in the air.

The second was less flora and more of a mini structure; a packed group of hexagonal prismatic columns stuck to corners of the expanse including the pillars, similar to that of a wasp nest or a beehive. Difference was, Tracey didn't believe these to be made of bee wax or dead leaves. It looked more like yellowed cartilage.

Tracey spotted buzzing yellowjackets writhing inside the hives. She swallowed on nothing, fear keeping her heart pounding, alive and on edge.

She could never picture the monastery having a basement level... especially one so deep. Pots of cremated ash laid at the bottom of the walls, the walls aligned with skulls, the age of which she couldn't tell.

She didn't want to waste time inspecting the architecture of a level she only felt unease in. She called out once more, "Lindsey! Are you here?!"

She saw on the other side of this room another set of doorways wide open, a possible indication that Dr. Lindsey went through there. She shook her head in frustration; this would be the fourth set of doors she'd go through in the Monastery, the first being the base level and the next ones descending further into the basement.

She decided to run through it until she saw the veterinarian or bumped into him.

She sped in a burst, dashing past the doorways, expecting to run down a curve of steps. Instead she stumbled and fell over two steps, managing to at least roll to avoid landing on her face.

She grunted, displeased. Tracey began to stand, pushing one hand down for support, but froze when she hear repulsing squish.

She down to where her gloved hand was, and saw it was pressed inside the decomposing corpse of a man; a Peggie, she noted, seeing the slashed marking of their cross. She retracted her hand away from it, keeping her hand close to the hilt of one blade.

She slowly stood up as she inspected the new room; similar to the architecture of the catacombs, the only difference she found were the four dead trees, the broken gravestones circling close the walls and corners of the room (with exception to the entrance and whatever opening was on the other side of the spore mist) and lastly the abundance of decomposing corpses, human and beast alike, male and female, big and small, strewn across the floor, the ground covered in their collective dried blood.

They all shared the same fatal wounds; one slash across the chests, stomachs and backs, or perhaps missing chunks of their bodies, or skulls busted open, and all having some form of their limbs and heads all separated from the body in a fest of gore. She wasn't even sure if the appendages she can see belong to any of the bodies or if some had been taken to... elsewhere.

Thoughts of the Misery invaded Tracey's mind, but she shook it away. Although what she witnessed there was... horrific, what she can see now was above it, if not equal to-

-elch!

Tracey froze at the distant sound. Heart hammering, she tilted her head, listening closely for small sound. She tensed when she heard it reverberate around the room again.

Squelch!

Breathing heavily, she gripped tightly around both her blades' handles, ready to draw them at the slightest hint of trouble as she maneuvered her steps around the corpses. Gaining closer, she heard it louder.

SQUELCH!

From a small distance, she could see a figure's silhouette through the mist. They lifted their arms, clearly holding a long, sharp-ended or perhaps spiked weapon that requires two hands, before bringing it down again, result in the disturbing squelch, this time with the addition of a crunch.

She unsheathed her blades just a bit, as she gained closer behind her distracted enemy. That's at least what she assumed they were. From the looks of it, human. Sharply dressed in what seemed to be yellow and black hunter's garb. A blood-drunk serial-killing Hunter? Now I've seen everything tonight, she thought to herself.

She found herself eating her words too early as she halted in her approach when she noticed three distinct details.

First, this hunter's figure and small raspy ragged breath indicated that he was male.

Second, he held a curved, hooked staff, the head taking on the familiar appearance of a curled wasp with with spikes along the back for a painful blunt attack.

And third, his left leg was adorned with a brace around it.

Tracey's eyes widened as she recognized who this Hunter was.

The nausea set in when he stopped cutting down the limb of the corpse. A recently bloodied dark-haired corpse that had a red slash across the teal shirt, crimson splotches staining the black vest and dusty grey pants.

The shattered rectangular glasses and dropped busted open med kit, the contents spilled from the fall, were only a confirmation of both the victim's identity and who the culprit was for the other corpses.

He released a deep exhale, while her breaths only increased. He calmly removed one hand from his weapon and leaving his other on it, all the while her hands trembled on the hilt of her blades.

She could only watch as his turned, not all the way, not revealing all of his features, for she didn't need to discern who he was even if he did, but to acknowledge her presence.

"Ah... Lader," Paul drawled out her surname with such serenity that it just sounded wrong. Tracey shuddered as he said, "I knew you'd come here."

[A/n] Psych! It was a flashback and the present moment! Also sorry Charles, but you're canonically friends with Tracey and happiness more-or-less doesn't exist in this AU.

Now let's cut to an AU that's more... not lighthearted but certainly not Bloodborne. A scene of my Coroner!Silva AU that's not actually part of the main Coroner AU fic No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden since in that fic the Reaping doesn't occur. Pretty much it's less "story with themes and messages and character development stuff" and more "crack treated seriously". I find this version of the AU funny because there is NO badass deputy the Resistance can rely on. Instead they've got Coroner!Silva whose functioning below 4 hours of sleep, drinks when stressed or sad, and she's in no state to fight (at least with guns... she can give a good stab with her dagger but that's as violent as she gets). Like the Resistance here are handling with whatever scraps they can gather (while Eden's Gate has all the good shit) and Silva's utilized just as Lindsey is; aka the closest people they've got to medical professionals (except one usually deals with animals and the other usually deals with dead people). However, thing is, this Silva still knows shit and often gives advice and training, and though she's not fighting on the field, she is doing reconnaissance, marking property for the Resistance and plays messenger between the regions' Resistance. She still upholds Deputy!Silva's tradition of refusing to join the Seed's cult and finding all the ways to inconvenience/piss them off (except for Faith, because Coroner!Silva had the bright idea to attempt seduction and is somehow surprised she ended up in a situationship with the Seed sister). That's the gist of it. Enjoy the few seconds of Nancy's appearance:

Nancy spoke into the headset's microphone once more, desperate to receive any contact back after Earl's panicked voice rang in, "Come in... is everything OK? Over."

Silence responded back, no sound of the Sheriff nor the deputies. Not even the Marshal. Could have something gone wrong? came the worried thought, Had the arrest gone awry? Or had God decided upon their fates?

Feeling a pang of sadness if that was the case, she tried again once more, "Please, are you there? Are you there? Are you there, Sheriff?"

Receiving no response from Earl, she tried the next names that came to mind.

"Deputy Hudson, if you're there please pick up," She repeated, glancing around the room to see if anyone else was there. Specifically the department's coroner, Silva.

She assumed her to still be in her morgue, which brought Nancy a sense of relief.

It wouldn't do that poor woman any good to listen to this, she thought to herself, focusing back to her screen, Dear Lord, if it's within your plan, please spare them. They're important to more people than myself.

"Deputy Pratt? Are you there? Are you there?" she asked frantically, "Earl, com in. Over."

"Please, is anyone there?" Nancy spoke, voice quivering as the silence grew louder, "Please, pick up. I need to know what's going on-"

"Dispatch," came a voice, all too familiar to her, all too gentle, that it put her at ease.

"Oh my god," she breathed out in revered relief, knowing the Father was alright.

"Everything is just fine here," he spoke, his words carrying an assuring weight, a wordless message that told Nancy, They're alive. They're safe. They're with us now. At least that's what Nancy chose to believe as the Father instructed, "No need to call anyone."

Nancy gave a small smile, understanding the meaning of his words. The Reaping has begun. Ensure it remains uninterrupted.

"Yes, Father," she replied through the microphone, knowing her new purpose now, "Praise be to you."

She switched off the call, removing the headset to prepare for her next task.

Though she paused when she heard the clinking sound of metal being dragged off the counter and fast pace of shoes running against the floor.

The last thing Nancy saw as she turned around was the glimpse of a white coat and the end of the coffee maker before pain and then darkness.

---

Silva had not believed herself capable of committing any sort of violence in the present day. She though the days of pain and returning pain onto others was far behind her in this new life of hers.

Although, staring at Nancy's unconscious form that flopped from her seat and onto the floor with a purple-ish bruise already forming on her forehead, had the coroner rethink that belief.

Discarding the now inoperable coffee maker, Silva flicked the communications back on. Grabbing the headset and bringing the microphone muff to one ear, she called out, "Sheriff? Hudson? Pratt? Can you hear me? Over."

She received only static. So she tried once more.

"It's Silva! It's a trap. I repeat, it's a trap. Nancy's one of them," she tried to warn through the call, "Please. Someone respond."

Soon enough, the screen flickered with an error, the call cancelled or some form if interference, she'd assume. Silva slammed the headset down, distressed.

She cursed under her native tongue, dragging a gloved hand through her long dark hair. She looked down to the groaning form of Nancy, a sensation of confused ire at being deceived by someone she thought to at least be a close co-worker.

However, she couldn't focus on Nancy now; the other's were being lead to a trap, or perhaps had been, she couldn't tell. All she overheard was Nancy's affirmative yes to who she could only assume to be the Project's cult leader, and giving her praise to him.

Looking at the coffee maker, she cringed at the thought that perhaps she went a tad far in her reaction, but she digressed; Nancy was a traitor and the few people she could call the closest things to friends were now in danger or worse.

She had to do something. But what?

And finally, the quiz results for two OCs each from Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore:

CADET AZRIEL (WINGS AND HORNS [ORIGINAL WORKS])

JEZEBEL BA'AL (WINGS AND HORNS [ORIGINAL WORK])

NATE GUST SARID (A SYMBOL FOR A BETTER WORLD [FALLOUT 4])

These are all surprisingly more-or-less correct for these three characters.

[simplegenius042]

"Welcome To The Simple Lounge" - Introduction and MasterList Post

Hi there friends! SimpleGenius here, and here's a bit about this and the other blogs.

On this blog I mostly reblog anything that catches my eye and where I post most of my tag games and posts related to my stories. This blog is also where most details on my Original Works Trilogy An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts (including its Original Work predecessor, Wings And Horns) and Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore can be found.

@the-untitledverse-blog is where I post fics and details related to my The UnTitledverse series. The series is comprised of four sagas; The Perfect Storm, The Omniscient Rule, The UnTitled Ventures and The Ender sagas, focusing on the development of a child by the name of Joaquin Cobalt, who grows and matures throughout the sagas, alongside friends and family against enemies and threats on a multiversal scale.

@the-silver-chronicles is where I post fics and details related to my The Silver Chronicles series. The series is smaller than that of The UnTitledverse, however it is one with several alternate scenarios and AUs, most of which for Far Cry 5. This series doesn't follow a sole character, rather being a kind of anthology, connected but can still be solo, though personally I believe Junior Deputy Silva Omar should hold that title, as she is the most significant and reoccurring character in The Silver Chronicles, especially for the FC5 stories.

@life-despair-and-monsters-blog is where I post fics and details related to my Life, Despair & Monsters series. Like The UnTitledverse, this series focuses on the multiverse. Unlike it's predecessor, Life, Despair & Monsters focuses on the alternate dimensions, the Old Kin and magical aspects surrounding the Multiverse, as well as its fundamental foundations. This series follows three groups of characters; Haoyu Anabuki's rebellious group which act as the protagonist faction, Sir Enigma Malvolio's Ruins of the Midnight Rise scientific progress-obsessed institution which acts as the main antagonist faction, with Aggravor's Chapter of the Occult which is a group of warlocks conserving and preserving all kinds of magic and plotting to return the Old Kin back to power whom act as a rival against Malvolio's faction.

@mycharacterlistandwipdump is where I dump my story related details such as list of OCs, plots and WIPs.

I can be found on AO3 here.

Below the cut are the fandoms these series will include and a number of links which can take you to several masterposts. Enjoy!

The UnTitledverse includes fandoms such as Jurassic World, Five Nights At Freddy's, Transformers Prime, The Walking Dead Game, IT (2017), Stranger Things, Gravity Falls, DOOM (2016), SCP Foundation, Detroit: Become Human, Hellaverse, Pet Sematary (2019), Red Dead Redemption, Yo-Kai Watch, Subnautica, Final Space, Life Is Strange, Star Wars, The Last Of Us, Classroom Of The Elite, Hitman, Inside Job, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, Saw, The Hateful Eight, Resident Evil, The Masquerade, The Bone Season, Mermaids of Eriana Kwai, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, The Locked Tomb and Fear And Hunger.

The Silver Chronicles includes fandoms such as Far Cry, Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare, We Happy Few, Welcome To The Game, Six Of Crows, The Bone Season, Mermaids of Eriana Kwai, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, The Locked Tomb, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, Bloodborne and Elden Ring.

Life, Despair & Monsters includes fandoms such as Love Death + Robots, Doki Doki Literature Club, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir, Arcane: League of Legends, Cyberpunk 2077, Guenevere, I Am Not Okay With This, House Of The Dragon, Wednesday, Poppy Playtime, The Invitation, Choo Choo Charles, God Of War, The Legend of Vox Machina and Castlevania.

A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore solely set in Fallout.

However, there are a few fandoms that I may do some unconnected (from my main fics anyway) fanfics on plus some other original works.

Lastly are the links to any MasterPosts and information I have [THIS WILL BE UPDATED (PROBABLY)]:

Masterpost of Fallout OC Protagonists

Masterpost of casted Fallout characters in my The Schmuck Squad's JJK Abridged react fic

[friedesgreatscythe]

this is just a compilation of all my bloodborne au headcanons for the seed siblings and my deputy, johanna. (the focus is mostly on joseph, because @myrcella was asking me about him).

i headcanon he was once a vicar of the church (like laurence or amelia), but he had eldritch visions and heard mutterings of the great ones, which made the church want to put him in the choir (since that's where all their cosmic research went). once he found out what the choir was up to (experimenting on orphans and mental patients), he refused to join them, but this led to a kind of ego death/mental breakdown that pulled him into the hunter's nightmare, because he was touched by the eldritch truth, knew its secret, and was forever changed/stained by it. i imagine that this was kos reaching out to him because she felt his pity and fury on her behalf, and she wanted him to help her.

his build is pure arcane, which is very hard to do because you basically are very physically frail, but you can call down the stars to attack your enemies, or take on the physical attributes of a great one to do damage. so joseph's basically like... he's the closest thing a human can get to an audience with a great one while still being HUMAN, but it makes him more susceptible to their pain and loneliness, and he's trapped in the nightmare, not really sure how to get out or what to do, because he doesn't want to hurt the orphan, but the orphan won't let him get near kos' body. so he’s trapped there, hoping that a hunter will come into the nightmare that is (1) sane, and (2) willing to help him.

this is also where i imagine that johanna comes in (bc she's been dreaming about kos and joseph, bc fuck yeah soulmates), and together they decide that she's going to be the one to distract the orphan long enough for joseph to commune with kos (and kill the nightmare shadow that grows out of her body--bc THAT'S how you end the nightmare, but the orphan won't let anyone get near it). johanna's willing to risk turning blooddrunk and losing her sanity if it means putting all this horror to rest, but this actually ends up saving her, because she isn’t doing it out of fury or bloodlust or wrath. it's a kind of empathic brutality, ig? and so with the nightmare laid to rest, her and joseph can finally leave it and wake up in the morning sunshine.

i also imagine he goes around and keeps adding more incense to ppl's urns when the night of the hunt is on, so they can stay safe.

as for the other seed siblings: jacob's an executioner, and he rescued faith (who was a vileblood) from cainhurst because he couldn't stand to see the entire castle slaughtered like animals. so he brought her back to yharnam. john's like eileen the crow, a hunter of hunters--he knows when hunters go off the deep end (aka, sin) and have to be put down, all the while risking losing his sanity in the process.

a hunter of hunters also knows all the darker secrets of the hunt itself, like people turn into beasts, even the clerics, so no one is safe. i imagine that john once worked in the research hall the choir had, but joseph helped get him out of there, so he became a hunter of hunters as a kind of redemption for sitting by and watching innocent people be mutilated. now he can give hunters a peaceful death before they turn into monsters--of course, the irony here is that with each person he kills, he feels all the more guilty and bitter for it, because trying to wash away blood with more blood just doesn’t work.

jacob became an executioner because he was taken in by the whole "the vilebloods ruined everything and are to blame" rhetoric, but once he was actually put to battle, he realized how wrong this was, so he couldn’t go through with it. he calls himself an executioner still because he takes some pride in their training, but he does what he can to eliminate any/all knowledge about cainhurst so no one else goes there to disturb the ghosts. he wants them to rest in peace.

he also makes sure no one goes to old yharnam, because the people there are (1) mostly children, and (2) are closed off from the rest of the city, so they can’t harm anyone. basically jacob takes it upon himself to act as a guard patrolling most of the cathedral ward, which can be exhausting and tiring, but it’s a job he takes pride in.

faith was raised in the castle and is noble, so she has this regal, elegant air about her, the kind that makes people sense there’s something strange but not unkind about her (vilebloods imbibe blood dregs and gain insight, so faith is basically protected from risking beasthood). and in between hunts (like, when yharnam is vaguely ok), she'll go around to check on the people who were locked inside, offering them incense, telling them of oedon chapel so they can stay safe, etc. she and jacob try to take children back from the choir, but it's really risky because access to the choir is EXTREMELY limited, and after joseph disappears most of their focus is on trying to get him back, so when johanna shows up, talking about him, they're like oh shit, SHE can do it.

[friedesgreatscythe]

mojave-wastelands replied to your post “I think out of all the Seeds , if you ended up in an AU bunker...”

@sisterfriedes it’s so sad to think that if someone showed him love, like not even romantic love; that someone just showed him that there was someone who cared about him, how different everything would have been. Like I make thot jokes but honestly?? Johns my favourite because there was still hope for him. He could have been a good person :( shit now I’m sad FUCK

That's precisely how I feel about him, too. The Seed brothers (and Faith!) are in various ways affection-starved and outright deprived, and they all react differently both to the pain of its absence and to trying to fill up the void. By doing so, they take up the mantle of the abuse inflicted onto them in the first place, which is... incredibly heartbreaking, really. They’re giving back into the world all the horror that was done to them, and I doubt they even know it.

I’m obviously a villain-posi blog. I love the idea of redemption arcs, too. I love trying to imagine villains in scenarios where they are forced to confront the darker aspects of their nature and decide which they will keep and which is unhealthy. And the Seed siblings all provide a wealth of potential for analysis and kicking around a can of ideas about what may or may not help them, who may or may not change them, how and why they would decide to grow, etc.

It’s hard for me to pick just who among the siblings is the most tragic, but sometimes I think it was John. John was the closest to being “normal” and successful--but as we see by his behavior and the note you find in his bunker, he was anything but. And he knew it:

Inside [of me] you found a tormented boy, damaged and afraid. Rejection and fear controlled my life then. Today, it is acceptance and love that drives me forward.

And as for the sadness--just try to imagine scenarios where John gets better, and how that would play out. That’s what I try to do when the despair for this family overwhelms me lol. And as weird as it sounds I think all the months I spent playing Dark Souls/Bloodborne has kinda like... steeled my heart against the agony of beating a boss that you really love/relate to. Because in those games there’s also no choice but to defeat them, and a lot of the times they’re truly tragic, heartbreaking figures who were just trying to make the best out of a horrible situation (I even named my url after one of them! She’s so rad). They’re victims, they’re protectors; they’re knights or hunters, people sworn into a service of a higher goal, people who have no goals, are homeless and helpless and just want you to leave them alone. Fighting them is always intensely bittersweet, because you can’t progress unless you defeat them, but defeating them means killing them, and that just wraps up nicely into how painful it is to confront the Seeds in FC5.

I want the Seeds defeated in the sense that I want their tyranny and destruction to stop--but I don’t want them to die for it. I like to imagine an AU where the Deputy takes the Heralds hostage each time s/he takes over a region, similar to how the other Deputies and the Marshal were hostages too. The Deputy holds them for ransom while demanding a truce of Joseph and Eden’s Gate, and for each refusal, s/he takes out a different outpost, destroys a different supply run, etc. S/He might make the Seeds give a speech broadcasted to Eden’s Gate specifically, asking them to take part in the truce. But s/he never lays a hand on Joseph’s family, no matter how badly the Resistance would want to do that (and no matter how much the Seeds would try to goad them into doing it).

I like to imagine how much shit that basic act of mercy would stir up among the Resistance, and the quiet pit of shame that would open up in the Seeds’ hearts when they realize that this Deputy is somethin’ else entirely. S/He’s a real match for Joseph, and perhaps even able to exceed him in terms of compassionate conviction. The Deputy’s mercy would be a different kind of hell altogether: it’d be a hell for them, for John and Jacob and Faith and Joseph, as they realize that yeah, the Deputy’s terrifying and a threat--but only in the sense that it forces them to look at themselves in a new light. The Deputy’s a creature of mercy, and somehow being in her/his merciful power is even scarier than being a prisoner.

[friedesgreatscythe]

Inspired by your post on Joanna, I just wanted to tell you that honestly, the relationship you write between Joanna and Joseph is beautiful. (I really loved your comparison of their interactions to Jane/Rochester.) I'm not really a fan of the Joseph/Deputy ship, but I always read your pieces between them because I adore their dynamic. ('Hope is the thing with feathers' is absolutely flawless.)

CRIES LOUDLY INTO MY HANDS ???? FDJSLAKFSOADSJKL

thank you. Johanna was my first OC for FC5, and she has a special place in my heart for that reason. It’s a lot of fun and a great challenge to keep putting her and Joseph at philosophical and moral odds with each other, because they both learn and grow and are also too stubborn to really give in completely, despite how they feel about each other.

i’m sorry i haven’t written more for them ;-; reader insert stuff sorta took over a lot of my FC5 fic writin’ for a few months. i’d love to write more about them since i have SO MANY AU IDEAS FOR THEM (Dark Souls, Bloodborne, Victorian, Life is Strange, etc.), so thank you so much for sending in this message. ;_; it’s so flattering and wonderful to know that Johanna means that much to you, and that you’d actually take the time to read her fics even if the ship isn’t your thing!! ♥♥♥

[friedesgreatscythe]

unlucky-words replied to your post “honestly i can’t wait til i can get to the bloodborne stream, and i...”

YESSSSSSSS IVE NEVER PLAYED BLOODBORNE (or any demon souls game) BUT I HOPE IT KICKS MY ASS INTO GEAR FOR MAKIN AU CONTENT !!!!!!!!!!!

YEYYEYE

IT SURE AS FUCK WILL!!! ESPECIALLY SINCE I FIND A WEIRD WAY TO CONNECT FC5 AND BLOODBORNE ALL THE TIME 

i’ll probably do the whole dark souls trilogy as well, since i have all of them for ps4, but that’d be up to you guys and it’d be most definitely after bloodborne.