#hopefully this kills any rumors that there's bad blood between them

[rainbowsky]

Da Peng, director of One and Only, had a nice exchange with Yibo on Weibo, when he congratulated him on being nominated for best actor.

Da Peng to Yibo - If you work hard, you will succeed!

Yibo's reply - Thanks, Director! Congratulations to all the cast and crew of One and Only! Congratulations, Director!

Da Peng to Yibo - Continue to work hard!

[emotional-support-hufflepuff]

After losing my mind while working on the monster universe au I've been planning out I think I'm almost ready to start writing the first chapter!

So introducing the current main cast of gremlins in this

1. Maka Albarn: Daughter of Spirit, Maka is attending the dwma on an academic scholarship while reluctantly taking a few of her Dad's classes.

a witch that unknowingly specializes in blood life magic. Her major is undecided at the dwma, but she will be leaning more towards botany and plant biology as she learns not just how to manipulate plants but all life surrounding her as well. Together with her newfound friends, they'll be unlocking the secrets of the dwma.

2. Soul "eater" Evans: A black blood werewolf with a history of bad luck, Soul eater is unsure of what his future will hold now that he's graduated. Creating music for his family alone seems to suck his soul out and when he isn't on the run, changing between human and wolf form to get out of his head, he would usually be found pacing his room. Until a bike accident at 18, shook up everything he once knew.

Now twenty-one, his hands shaking with the tremors of an old mistake, Soul is preparing to move into the dwma where he will be meeting old and new friends alike. Originally going for his minor in music theory and conducting Soul's path quickly changes to small business and culinary arts after walking into the wrong class. Did he fully fit in there? No, but the class didn't need to know that.

3. Death the kid: a vampire with big shoes to fill, Kid is the seemingly immortal son of LD. Rumor has it he's a ghost living on university campus since no one has seen him leave. When in reality he is a curator and archivist of cursed artifacts at the dwma. Rumors about him change with each growing day, and as he moves into a dorm with Maka and the others after choosing to enroll, he's curious to see where they lead to. Not much is known about him as he chooses to keep to himself. However one thing is known for sure and that is there is no evidence of him in any picture.

Powered by spite, enough caffeine to kill a horse, and pure sass Kid tends to fade to the background. Often joining in on shenanigans with his sisters and Black star if dragged along he would rather focus on his studies of cultural, environmental, and diplomatic history as he pursues his dreams of becoming an archeologist. Not too hard right? Tell that to anyone who knows and expects him to follow in his dads footsteps. Life isn't easy when your Dads the grim reaper but when you're a vampire all you have is time to share.

4. Liz and Patty Thompson: Not so older sisters to Death the kid, Liz and Patty Thompson are poltergeists that after being discovered in the city were taken in by LD and given a second chance at life. Or, in their case, the afterlife as some would call it. Not much is known about their past, yet in some recollections of memories, one name keeps popping up. Asura, who is he, and why is he in their memories.

Whoever he is, they can worry about that later. With starting school again, Liz and Patty will be joining the others as the lines between who they once were and what they have chosen to become will begin to merge. Will they continue to try and outrun their past or learn to live with who they truly are. That's for them to discover and hopefully for the others to never find out.

5. Black Star: twenty-one going on twenty-two years old, grew up in Arizona, and is going to the dwma on an athletic scholarship. Black star's dad runs the gym classes along with co-leading some of the teams at the dwma. Mainly known for his pranks at the dwma, Black Star also happens to be a star athlete and not so secret theater kid.

 Sure, he loses his head every now and then, but that's his own fault for tossing it around instead of keeping it stitched on properly. But what can you say when you're constantly falling to pieces? That's what you get when you're one of Stein's projects.

6. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa: Twenty five years old, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa leaves behind the rumors of her past as she joins the dwma. Sure she might come off as patient as can be, but push her to her limit and the cutthroat determination that she had in her past life shows just how hard she'll work to get what she deserves. Even if some of that determination led to a little bit of bloodshed.. but that's a story for another time.

Starting her third year of school at the dwma, Tsubaki will begin studying kinesiology, psychology, and human anatomy/physiology in hopes of becoming a physical therapist. She might not be considered a doctor but even then that won't stop her from naming a few bones, while breaking them in the process if anyone so much as touches a hair on the heads of those she cares about.

[moonfurthetemmie]

Continuing Meetings of the DS Verse (Part 5)

:3

Warnings for implied murder; there’s some talking about the Horror Squad’s introduction, and also some noises that imply fresh murder. 

Previous | Next

It had been a few days since the…alternates of the Meme Squad had broken into Justice Reigns. Dream hadn’t had any luck in tracking them down yet, and there’d been no sightings of them or the trio Dream was familiar with. He tried not to worry too much about that. He himself was still alive, which meant Nightmare was as well, and he wasn’t just murdered in cold blood by a trio of deranged look-a-likes. And if the deranged Squad had managed to kidnap the sane ones, Dream was sure they’d find a way out.

Not that he was concerned about their well-being. Nightmare dying would just be…very unfortunate, given their destiny bond. And while Cross and Error might’ve been criminals, they certainly didn’t deserve to be murdered. Not the way all of Dream’s employees had been…

He shuddered. The renovations were…slow going. The stench of blood permeated the halls of that wing of the castle, and no amount of cleaning solutions or air fresheners could cover it up. He was already starting to hear rumors of the area being haunted, which was not helping turnout. He was seriously considering having the justice department take care of it; at least they wouldn’t get sick from the smell. Of course, none of them had any experience with construction, and he’d have get them all OSHA certified, which would take resources away from tracking down this new Meme Squad. Not to mention all their normal day-to-day duties, and any other reports that might pop up.

Dream sighed heavily, set his pen down and pushed his chair away from his desk. He was going to make an announcement about the strangers…which meant he or someone else would have to look though the security feed and try to get a good image of the three of them. That would be several grueling hours of combing through the video feed of the massacre…

That seemed like a good job for Ink, actually. She didn’t mind blood and gore as much as most people. He turned to his computer and began writing an email. He was halfway through before remembering that she’d gone missing. First the the new Meme Squad, then Finch being put out of commission, and now Ink going missing…

Oh, right. Dream needed to give the new Meme Squad some kind of code name or designation, to differentiate between the one he knew, and establish how much more of a threat they were. He’d probably need one for the alternate Ink had ran into, if she turned out to be a criminal too. He had a document open to come up with some ideas, but he wanted to consult with Finch and a few others, to see if they have any more ideas.

Speaking of Finch, was he doing alright? Dream had told the nurses taking care of Finch to alert him if his condition changed, and he hadn’t heard anything. Hopefully that was good news.

He sighed again in exasperation. This whole situation was making it difficult for him to focus. Maybe he should just go check on Finch. It might ease his worries, at least. Finch was a good friend and an excellent captain, and Dream was very much hoping the squad of horror movie villains hadn’t killed him.

…Huh. Squad of horror movie villains. That…wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe he could do something with that.

He made his way down to the hospital wing in relative silence, bouncing some ideas around in his head and worrying over Finch. Some guards and employees greeted him as he passed, but no one said anything about anyone else breaking in, which was good. That was the last thing he needed right now.

The hospital wing wasn’t terribly busy. A few nurses were rushing about, taking care of some elderly patients, or a few field agents who’d been seriously injured trying to apprehend someone. Dream paid no mind to any of them, and went right to find Finch’s room.

He wasn’t surprised to find that Finch was still unconscious. He’d lost a lot of blood. Dream’s stomach twisted thinking about how much those three had put him through. His leg was in a cast and elevated, and his chest was wrapped in bandages. He was still receiving blood, but his skin has much more color than it had last time Dream had visited.

A nurse came over to talk to Dream. A lion monster, wearing Winnie-the-Pooh scrubs, with a specialized stethoscope for her lioness ears around her neck. She updated Dream on Finch’s condition, and informed him they believe he should be waking up sometime in the next couple of days.

As they spoke, the space next to Finch’s bed began to distort and swirl. A portal? In the hospital ward? Something was wrong with it, though; it was popping and glitching violently. Finally, it opened, and someone stumbled out of it, looking like he just woke up.

Dream immediately reached for his sword, but he’d left it in his office. Before him stood an exact clone of Finch, though he looked quite confused and very disoriented. He stared down at his alternate in the hospital bed, then looked up at Dream and the nurse, then looked up at the ceiling like god, why do you do this.

Dream, having encountered only the murderous clones of the Meme Squad, did not trust this newcomer. He stood between him and the nurse, trying to protect her from the stranger.

“State your business,” Dream ordered.

The other Finch furrowed his brows. “Uh…Lost. Very lost. I was trying to get to a coffee shop.”

Dream narrowed his eyes. The new Finch seemed to be just as confused as he looked, but Dream didn’t trust him.

“You…wouldn’t happen to have seen my boss around here, would you?” New Finch asked. “Or Ink, for that matter. They both disappeared a couple of days ago.”

“I haven’t,” Dream said coldly. “You wouldn’t happen to know a trio of murderers that call themselves the Meme Squad, would you?”

The new Finch blinked. “…Run that by me again?”

“A few days ago, a group of murderers broke into the castle. They weren’t from this multiverse.”

A look of realization crossed Finch’s face, but was quickly replaced with horror. He looked down at his alternate. “There…hadn’t been any reports on them since Ink and Lord Dream disappeared, but…we didn’t think it meant anything. It’s not uncommon for them to go silent at irregular intervals…” He rubbed his chin. “If they’re here, and I am too, then it would make the most sense that Ink and Lord Dream are here, too. If we could find them, we could-“

“We will not be doing anything until I know I can trust you,” Dream interrupted. “Forgive me for my mistrust, but the last time we had ‘visitors’ from another multiverse, we lost an entire wing of the castle, and only one survived.”

Finch did not stir. The alternate, however, grimaced. “I understand your distrust, but as you’ve clearly seen, those three are menaces and need to be contained. The sooner we act, the sooner we have a chance at catching them before they do too much damage.”

Before Dream could retort, his radio went off. He answered it, scowling.

“Lord Dream, I have an update on the situation with Ink.”

The acting captain, while Finch was out. They sounded shaky

Dream’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Go ahead.”

“We haven’t found her, or any hints of her current whereabouts, but we did find the alternate Ink. At first we thought she was ours, but she was extremely dismissive when we asked about where she’d been, and…well, there was a tattoo on her hand, which was the only way we could actually tell the difference. She went off on her own way, even after we tried to get her to come back with us. But Doglores said she smelled blood on her, and our Ink’s scent.”

The new Finch folded his arms, but didn’t say anything. Dream could see the gears turning in his head.

“Do you have any idea where she went?” Dream asked.

Why did she smell like blood…?

“I’m afraid not. We tried to follow her when she walked off, but she turned into an alleyway and by the time we got there there was just a puddle of ink on the ground.”

Why is she trying so hard not to be followed?

“Understood, Captain. Come back for now.”

“Yessir. We’ve got some footage of the interaction from our body cams, too; I can-“

They were cut off by a scream in the background, and then a horrible gurgling noise that sent a chill down Dream’s spine. He turned the radio down, so only the people in the room could hear it. The nurse gasped and covered her mouth.

“What the- hey!“ “Who ya talkin to, fluffy ears?”

Everyone in the room tensed. It sounded like Error, but much more rough.

“Eh, it’s probably this multiverse’s Dream,” said another voice in the background. The new Nightmare’s, Dream guessed. There was some quiet swearing, and a sickening Snap!

Then the radio cut off, and they were left in silence.

The new Finch looked disgusted. 

Dream’s knuckles were white on the radio in his hand. 

“…Your help would be appreciated,” he said finally, once he’d steadied himself. “Is there something we can call you, so you won’t get mixed up with our Finch?”

[luminous-letters]

hiihii hope ur doing well!! May I request Savanaclaw crushing on a gn!s/o (well not quite their s/o yet) from diasomnia? wondering how would they react since diasomnia and savanaclaw aren't all that buddy buddy with eachother

what better bonding there is than getting your shit rocked by the npcs and have them treat you?

jack tries to act tough but ends up looking like a complete dork

"You're safe now. You're pretty stupid to come waltzing into Savanaclaw territory," Jack dusted the dirt and leaves off your uniform.

The two of you were hiding under a conveniently-placed rock, away from the beastmen that were out for blood.

Your blood, to be specific.

Jack was also injured himself. He had long scratch across his cheek from the exchange of claws and blows earlier. "You're hurt too, need some help?"

"No thanks. I don't want an outsider licking my wounds for me," he refused.

"And I think you should worry about yourself more," he pointed at your darkened bruises and dirtied scratches.

"I can handle myself, mind you."

"If you could've handled yourself," Jack stepped closer, leering at you, "I wouldn't have had to step in and meddle with some idiot's affairs," he was slowly closing the gap between you two, inch by inch.

"But I can't just stand there and watch you get your ass handed to you." his breath tickled your skin from his proximity.

"Too close," you pushed him off, and he seemed to be caught out of a trance.

"Oh— um, sorry about...that," he scratched the back of his head, refusing to face you.

"We should get these checked," you tried to change the topic, hopefully making the atmosphere between less awkward.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," you told him only to reel back in pain the moment you set your right foot down. "I'm sprained."

"No shit," Jack huffed, picking you up bridal-style. You couldn't help but notice that he was breathing heavier than earlier, even when he was panting from the fight.

Was he sniffing you?

"Let's go," he told you, hanging you over his shoulder. If his goal was to prevent you from seeing his face, your position gave you a perfect view of his bushy tail. Which was wagging intensely, you notiiced.

"Sunday...you free by Sunday?" he asked you.

"Not really, but I could cancel some stuff if you've got something planned. Do you?"

"N-no, I don't have anything planned. I just thought that...uh."

"One of Draconia's lackeys? Aren't you afraid of getting torn apart? I can't hold these guys forever, you know~" Leona laughed, tossing his head back.

"Stay back!"

"You're cute, I'll give you that," he crouched down to your level, his emerald eyes grew more sinister under the dim light.

"You should know better than to incur Diasomnia's wrath," you growled, moving backwards, away from him.

Leona only laughed harder.

"What wrath? I doubt an injured cutie like you could do much anyway," he brushed the dust off your hair. "Listen, I'm the king here. And you should be thankful that you're still in one piece, if anything."

You expected a quick end, or an agonizing doom from the rumors you've heard circulating your dorm.

"You look pretty bad, huh. One of the boys must've gone all out."

Leona Kingscholar, the cunning mind that plotted Malleus Draconia's doom. Underhanded scum and a pretentious ruler.

"Any serious injuries I should know of? None? Good. I don't want to deal with paperwork," he lifted you up the ground like you weighed nothing.

What?

"Where are you taking me?"

"Infirmary, Einstein."

"You could've just let me leave on my own."

"Now how am I supposed to carry you like this if I did that?" he winked.

Oh...

"Run along now, you're probably gonna be late for one of your communal Malleus-worship ceremonies," Ruggie snickered at your roughed up figure.

You hated this man, always laughing with that condescending look on his smug face.

Just like his dorm leader, the very same man who tried to kill Malleus Draconia in cold blood.

Ironically, it was Ruggie that swooped in and convinced his peers to not eat you alive. You were thankful for that, but not his constant giggles and uncalled-for insults.

"Lucky you, if it was anyone else they might've been supper by now," he cackled again, finding humor in the strangest things.

"I'm not someone who leaves a debt unpaid, so—"

"You're gonna offer payment, right? This day just keeps getting better and better," Ruggie grinned. "A hundred Thaumarks, throw in some lunch while you're at it."

"I can't— that's too expensive!"

"So is making those guys stop, but you don't see me complaining," Ruggie opened his palm, as if to say 'gimme your money'.

"Can't I at least have a minute to spare for my wounds?" you gestured to the aftermath of earlier's scuffle.

"How about I treat your wounds?" Ruggie had a look of concern on his face.

"How much does it cost?" you huffed.

"Eh, I was about to do it for free. But since you so kindly offered," Ruggie smiled from ear to ear.

[edenmemes]

horizon zero dawn starters

❝  you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose.  ❞ ❝  did you want to be alone?  ❞ ❝  you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me.  ❞ ❝  that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now.  ❞ ❝  it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere.  ❞ ❝  trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed.  ❞ ❝  never celebrate a victory before it’s earned.  ❞ ❝  i crave vengeance. do you?  ❞ ❝  my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters.  ❞ ❝  i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two.  ❞ ❝  you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell.  ❞ ❝  what is a gift but an award you did not earn?  ❞ ❝  so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing.  ❞ ❝  i wish i could borrow some of your courage now.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few?  ❞ ❝  no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest.  ❞ ❝  a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it.  ❞ ❝  why would someone name a knife?  ❞ ❝  so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me!  ❞ ❝  try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world.  ❞ ❝  when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened.  ❞ ❝  i’m really not one for crowds.  ❞ ❝  so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff.  ❞ ❝  i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of.  ❞ ❝  no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own.  ❞ ❝  it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another.  ❞ ❝  you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still.  ❞ ❝  just don’t think this means i enjoy it.  ❞ ❝  i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear.  ❞ ❝  when i start a fuss, i like to finish it.  ❞ ❝  i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar.  ❞ ❝  what could go wrong? turns out, a lot.  ❞ ❝  let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight.  ❞ ❝  now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them.  ❞ ❝  we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together.  ❞ ❝  i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right?  ❞ ❝  oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise.  ❞ ❝  i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble.  ❞ ❝  it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out.  ❞ ❝  these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced.  ❞ ❝  that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know?  ❞ ❝  i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything.  ❞ ❝  stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible.  ❞ ❝  what a waste. at least he died better than he lived.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much..  ❞ ❝  if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in.  ❞ ❝  the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand.  ❞ ❝  soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home.  ❞ ❝  now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time.  ❞ ❝  i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow.  ❞ ❝  you're really good at making it impossible to like you.  ❞ ❝  i’ve missed our little talks.  ❞ ❝  will change happen at all, while men live in palaces?  ❞ ❝  confidence is quiet. you’re not.  ❞ ❝  you’re not a very convincing liar.  ❞ ❝  i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother.  ❞ ❝  all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide.  ❞ ❝  i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago.  ❞ ❝  you will turn back - or bleed. your choice.  ❞ ❝  when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere.  ❞ ❝  you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame.  ❞ ❝  truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me.  ❞ ❝  do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?  ❞ ❝  but i don’t know anyone here.  ❞ ❝  come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you.  ❞ ❝  think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes.  ❞ ❝  it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try.  ❞ ❝  if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand.  ❞ ❝  what will you do while i risk my life?  ❞ ❝  you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace.  ❞ ❝  you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass!  ❞ ❝  the sooner you’re gone from here, the better.  ❞ ❝  for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity.  ❞ ❝  i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay.  ❞ ❝  no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task.  ❞ ❝  i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way.  ❞ ❝  they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle.  ❞ ❝  comforts are weakness.  ❞ ❝  as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight.  ❞ ❝  you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow...  ❞ ❝  i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here for the price on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire.  ❞ ❝  this...attachment to me will only hold you back.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that?  ❞ ❝  when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong.  ❞ ❝  right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery...  ❞ ❝  oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three?  ❞ ❝  why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again?  ❞ ❝  i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality.  ❞ ❝  there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that.  ❞ ❝  ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this.  ❞ ❝  i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow.  ❞ ❝  bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound.  ❞ ❝  i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason.  ❞ ❝  i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge.  ❞ ❝  rumors spread like blood.  ❞ ❝  they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing.  ❞ ❝  leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring.  ❞ ❝  you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side.  ❞ ❝  you defeated it? alone?  ❞ ❝  grasp your grief. and kill it.  ❞ ❝  at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company.  ❞ ❝  only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going.  ❞ ❝  just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are.  ❞ ❝  i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here to intrigue you.  ❞ ❝  how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝  everything freezing. the ground, the air... me.  ❞ ❝  you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from.  ❞ ❝  the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it.  ❞ ❝  to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life.  ❞ ❝  makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it?  ❞ ❝  why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier?  ❞ ❝  being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place.  ❞ ❝  to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn.  ❞ ❝   if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along.  ❞ ❝  that carcass! what sort of beast was that?  ❞ ❝  what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men?  ❞ ❝  you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you?  ❞ ❝  there’s so much to discover before the world ends.  ❞ ❝  i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you.  ❞ ❝  some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary!  ❞ ❝  do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying?  ❞ ❝  if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it.  ❞ ❝  it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there.  ❞ ❝  i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing.  ❞ ❝  no one hears your prayers anyway.  ❞ ❝  this place is difficult even for the prepared.  ❞ ❝  i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again.  ❞ ❝  oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something?  ❞ ❝  look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater.  ❞ ❝  were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something?  ❞ ❝  hmph. don’t go soft on me.  ❞ ❝  i prefer the company of spirits. or my own.  ❞ ❝  blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it.  ❞ ❝  so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think?  ❞ ❝  why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better?  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen armor like yours.  ❞ ❝  the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead.  ❞ ❝  when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable.  ❞ ❝  tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world.  ❞ ❝  you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’.  ❞ ❝  i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like this. it feels...wrong.  ❞ ❝  oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget.  ❞ ❝  you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see.  ❞ ❝  not everyone follows the law like you do.  ❞ ❝  how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior?  ❞ ❝  for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me.  ❞ ❝  what have i ever given you but struggle?  ❞ ❝  it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always.  ❞ ❝  i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead.  ❞ ❝  look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up.  ❞ ❝  when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing.  ❞ ❝  i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you!  ❞ ❝  you gave him a quicker death than he deserved.  ❞ ❝  that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me.  ❞ ❝  something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck.  ❞ ❝  remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires.  ❞ ❝  ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did.  ❞ ❝  is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today?  ❞ ❝  you hold your grief close, like a tailsman.  ❞ ❝  i hope you can find peace.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know who i am, do you?  ❞ ❝  you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too.  ❞ ❝  i want to be strong like you. but...  ❞ ❝  i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it.  ❞ ❝  just...don’t start singing again.  ❞ ❝  you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done?  ❞ ❝  i don’t intend to die today.  ❞ ❝  it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed.  ❞ ❝  but why should you have justice, and not me?  ❞ ❝  such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts.  ❞ ❝  one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself.  ❞ ❝  only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life.  ❞ ❝  the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore.  ❞ ❝  i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting...  ❞ ❝  now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy.  ❞       ❝  but what does a girl like you know of loss?  ❞ ❝  it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work.  ❞ ❝  i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us.  ❞ ❝  they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝  you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i.  ❞ ❝  perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one.  ❞ ❝  losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others.  ❞ ❝  i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you.  ❞ ❝  if i had known, i would never have spoken to you.  ❞ ❝  forge a new life. one of better make.  ❞ ❝  impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist?  ❞ ❝  look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone.  ❞ ❝  i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through.  ❞ ❝  i’m with you. until the end.  ❞ ❝  i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed!  ❞ ❝  we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well.  ❞ ❝  are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse.  ❞ ❝  now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you.  ❞ ❝  it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth.  ❞ ❝  i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’.  ❞ ❝  more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty?  ❞ ❝  keep moving or you’ll die!  ❞ ❝  this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever.  ❞ ❝  if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  ❞ ❝  i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety.  ❞ ❝  the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father.  ❞ ❝  i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done.  ❞ ❝  my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that.  ❞ ❝  only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning.  ❞ ❝  if the war’s not over, i’m not done.  ❞ ❝  a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck.  ❞ ❝  it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’.  ❞ ❝  let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters.  ❞ ❝  have your wounds even had time to heal?  ❞ ❝  you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me.  ❞ ❝  just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright?  ❞ ❝  you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot.  ❞ ❝  i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning.  ❞ ❝  for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye.   ❞ ❝  so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention?  ❞ ❝  change won’t come in a single sunrise.  ❞ ❝  this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it.  ❞ ❝  no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking.  ❞

[lemonandtheart]

@gxmonth Day 18 - This Wasn't In The Rule Book!! vampire au vampire aU VAMPIRE AU~~!! I have always been such a sucker for monsters and magic lol. I wrote a little fanfic drabble a hot minute ago that I'll include under the cut!

There were rumors running rampant all through Domino. Breathless whispers through the crowds of its residents. They spread fear like the plague, but who could blame them? With all of the people who’d gone missing never to be seen again it was only natural such a fear would grow until it had reached an unprecedented proportion. Whether it was truth or not didn’t matter because to the people of Domino there was no doubt. A vampire was on the loose through the city streets after nightfall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Jesse Andersen hoped the rumors true. He’d come a long way to hunt down this supposed dirty bloodsucker. His friend, Jim, had offered to come along on the journey too but Jesse had declined. They didn’t truly know if there was a vampire in Domino City. He’d certainly find out after dark. Since the people of Domino had been keeping holed up inside at night the past few months, he was sure the parasite had to be starved by now.

A chill settled in the night air once the sun fully disappeared over the horizon. Jesse pulled his thick, black jacket tighter to his chest. It would be a long night. He was glad he’s had the foresight of buying himself a hot coffee before the shops closed. It warmed him from the inside out as he perused the streets. Hopefully one of two things would occur: either there was no vampire and he’d be on his merry way after a quick report back to the Vampire Hunter’s Association or there was a parasitic lowlife lurking among the shadows that he would eliminate well before the sun would rise again. Either way Jesse felt that he’d be headed home within the next few days.

He paused underneath of a spotlight near a fountain. It wasn’t running and with the high-rise buildings surrounding he felt even the nearly silent sound of his pulse was amplified. It was quiet—eerily so. Not a thing in the whole city seemed to make any noise and the stillness of it was deafening. A soft, distant tapping of heels against pavement was a deliberate break in the silence. Jesse set his hand on the small stake launcher secured to his belt. The sound echoed and made it seem to come from everywhere at once. He slowly backed up to the fountain, craning his neck around to try and find the direction of the noise. Any direction would do. What he wasn’t expecting was the freezing hands on his shoulders matched with a silken, sultry voice from directly behind him. “Well, what’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

Jesse jolted from the grasp and yanked the weapon from its holster, aiming it squarely at the chest of the man, no, monster he was looking for. He had messy, untamable, two-toned brown hair and a set of gleaming golden eyes staring hungrily at him. He wore a low-cut V-neck shirt that nearly slit down to his stomach, the two sides of the fabric held together by thin string tied crossways. The sleeves, he noticed, were ruffled when he moved his hands up to the sides of his head — palms facing forward in a show of submission. His pants buttoned and sat snugly on his thin hips before disappearing beneath his high-heeled boots at the knee. The heels dug into the stone of the fountain he stood upon; the streetlights the ideal backdrop for his cape he wore over the ensemble. It fastened just above his clavicle with a jeweled button. Jesse sneered in disgust at the creature, but more so at the choice of apparel. It was far too extra, making him look more like a movie villain than a bloodthirsty creature of night. “Hasn’t anyone warned you it’s dangerous to be out so late at night?” The vampire questioned.

“I could ask the same to you, vampire.” Jesse responded, gesturing to the launcher aimed still at his chest. The vampire chuckled.

“Perhaps, but I own these streets. The name’s Jaden by the way. Jaden Yuki. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting this lovely evening?”

“Jesse Andersen. Sorry to say, but these streets were never yours.” Jaden kept his hands raised but stepped down from his position atop the fountain’s rim. Jesse began backing up, his eyes and shot never leaving the vampire as he strutted towards him.

“Is that so?” He drawled, continuing his slow approach. Jesse’s fingers twitched on the trigger, the small movement pushing Jaden to respond. He kicked high, knocking the weapon out of Jesse’s hands and into the sky. It came crashing back to the Earth and hit the rock of the fountain with a horrendous crack, bouncing into the water in a jagged movement. Jesse’s eyes widened at the horror of being disarmed. He hadn’t expected to find an adversary of any remarkable skill on the streets of Domino. Now, only panic and fear pooled in his stomach as he kept his eyes locked on Jaden’s. “Care to tell me what brings you here, Jesse?”

“You.”

“Me?” Jaden asked, cocking his head to the side in an innocent way.

“Obviously! You’re the one who’s been kidnapping people for the past few months!” Jesse’s words only seemed to confuse Jaden more. He furrowed his brow hard.

“Wait, wait. Hold on a minute. First of all, I haven’t kidnapped anyone ever! I haven’t even been out from the lair in a year or so! I’ve been—”

“I thought you owned these streets?” Jesse sassed.

“Well, ehe, I thought it’d sound cool. Didn’t it?” Jaden admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“That doesn’t matter!” Jesse exclaimed, shaking Jaden’s shoulders. Jaden pouted.

“Fine, fine. Anyways, I’m not the one you’re after.”

“Great! Now I’m stuck in the heart of Domino with two vampires wandering the streets with no weapon.” He whined, coming to sit at the fountain. Jaden shrugged casually.

“There are plenty more vampires than that here, but okay.” An idea struck Jesse, fast and hard and stupid. So stupid, in fact, it just might work.

“You!” He exclaimed suddenly, rushing Jaden and squeezing his shoulders roughly. Jaden blinked slowly at him.

“Me?”

“Yes! You’ve got to know all the vampires around here!”

“So?”

“So, you must know the one responsible! You can help me!” Jaden’s eyes narrowed, intrigue taking over.

“Oh? And what’s in it for me?” He purred. Jesse gulped but didn’t let the fear register. He knew it’d make his job so much easier to play the enemy. If he could get Jaden to work with him, he could eliminate not only the immediate threat but Jaden as well. Killing two vampires with one stake. All he had to do was play his cards right.

“Would…some of my blood be fine enough payment?” He asked, playing as though he was embarrassed by such an idea. He’d noticed many vampires he’d dealt with in the past responded well if he pretended like he was new, nervous, and never before bitten. It was like the idea of being the first to drink from a human was a special treat that was rarely given. He’d been bitten plenty by vampires and honestly it wasn’t that bad. It only would become a problem should he take his lifeblood—the true way to turn a human into a vampire. Jaden pursed his lips as Jesse lowered the collar of his jacket, offering payment upfront for his cooperation. He closed in on Jesse, gripping his biceps and wetly licking a stripe up Jesse’s neck to his ear. Jesse hated the way his body shuddered at the feeling, both of the lick and Jaden’s hot breath now in his ear. Though, he was also grateful for it. It helped to sell the unspoken act of it being his first time. He bit his own lip, mentally preparing himself for Jaden’s fangs. It was always the initial jab that was the worst part. A short, single noise of amusement left Jaden’s mouth before his answer rang numbly in his ear.

“No.” Jesse felt his eyes widen when Jaden pulled back to look Jesse in the face, a casual smirk present on his lips. He had never once in all of his time dealing with vampires ever had one turn down a willing, easy meal. It was astounding and almost admirable. Jaden was on an entirely new level of vampire he’d never seen before. He could feel his cheeks flush with real embarrassment of being turned down so casually. What, was his blood not good enough? “I came up for a reason tonight, Jesse. Would you like to know it?” Words failed, so he simply nodded. Jaden closed the short distance between them and slotted his chin in the juncture of Jesse’s neck, lips less than an inch away from Jesse’s ear. He whispered like he was revealing a grand secret. “You see, I’ve very recently come of age. It’s time to build a court of my own, but to do that I have to prove myself. Know how?” His answer was a shake of the head. He could feel Jaden’s smirk grow. “I have to turn a human into a vampire in front of everyone I know. A little ceremony if you will. I was hoping to find myself a willing participant to join my court. My first member. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

The color that’d been building in Jesse’s face drained. He was terrified in the, albeit gentle, grip of a vampire that wanted to turn him. It was a good thing in a way. At least Jaden didn’t have any desire to kill him, and that made him feel a bit better. Still, with all the vampires Jesse’d seen he’d never truly spoken to one longer than necessary. In one short description from Jaden, he felt like he’d learned more of the societal structure of vampires than he had in his relatively short career. Jaden pulled away from him, making eye contact with Jesse. He could feel the icy cold of Jaden’s fingers on the skin of his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Jesse shook his head, hoping to tune back in. “What?” He asked. Jaden shook his head softly, tsking.

“I said that if you wanted to, we could have a little fun. Make a game of it. Only if you’re a willing participant of course. I’d hate to coerce you into a life you’re uncomfortable with.”

“A game of what?”

“Rewards! If you win, I’ll help you track the vampire behind the disappearances and as an added bonus I’ll leave Domino. But if I win, you’ll stay and become my first court member. We can still track the vampire down, that’s a given. Either way you’ll still benefit in one fashion or another.”

“And what game will we be playing?”

“How’s hide and go seek? I know it’s a bit unfair since I know the city better than you, so we can keep tally at the fountain. Say, five minutes to hide and ten to seek? We’ll play ‘till dawn, so twelve rounds. No rooftops, no going into buildings, no turning into bats. Sound fair?” Jaden extended his hand to Jesse. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it, but it was true. Jaden was the best bet of actually locating the vampire he was looking for, and even if he lost Jaden didn’t seem like that bad of a guy. He was inclined to take Jaden’s hand, so he did. A searing pain ran up his arm and radiated through his body. “The oath is bound. I’ll seek first.” He turned his back to Jesse, covering his eyes with his hands. “One…Two…Three…”

Jesse ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The people of Domino were depending on him to end their blight. He had to win. He felt a sort of obligation to rid the world of these vermin. Yet, there was something about Jaden Yuki that’d drawn him in way too far for a first encounter. His initial presence had felt intimidating, domineering, and had in an instant become soft and genuine. It felt so wrong to see any good in one of those filthy creatures of the night, but Jesse couldn’t help it. He could sense the overwhelming good nature of Jaden and it made him feel inclined to believe that this would be a fair game.

That was five minutes. Jesse tucked himself tight into an alleyway. He slowed his breathing, trying hard not to give himself away. The click of Jaden’s heels against the concrete filled every crevasse and made it impossible to know how close or far Jaden really was. The gentle glow of the moon and the harsh lights of the city around were the only means Jesse had of sight. He wished desperately for the warmth of the sun. This alley felt like static on his skin. The clicking finally stopped. He held his breath, shifting slightly back behind the boxes he was obscured by. “Found you!” Jaden smirked. He’d moved so fast he’d nearly materialized out of thin air. “Alright! One to nothin’! Better catch-up Jess, unless you secretly do want to be a vampire!” He stuck out his tongue past his sharp teeth before taking off down the alley. Jesse couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. This was actually kind of fun. Jaden, as dangerous as he had the potential to be, actually was making this unfortunate situation fun.

He found Jaden easily, far too easily. He’d been out in the open, almost waiting for him. With each passing round Jaden found him with unfathomable ease and Jesse him with increasing difficulty. It all came down to the final round – Jaden’s six to Jesse’s five. It was Jesse’s turn to seek. “Good luck, Jess. I can’t wait to see how good you’ll look on the ceremonial altar for me!” He winked suggestively and, in a flash, he was gone. Jesse closed his eyes and willed the color from his face. He was a grown ass man. He could deal with comments like that! He could! He began his count.

There was breeze now that brushed and caressed his skin with an all-new chill. It made him feel uncertain. Could he really find Jaden? He had been getting harder and harder to find. If he failed to find him, he’d still finish the job he’d come to the city to do. The only difference was that he wouldn’t be leaving. His heart fluttered in his chest. It was making him feel fuzzy to think about. He didn’t hate the idea; he hadn’t hated the idea from the start actually. If he had, he wouldn’t’ve agreed to play. Hell, he didn’t even hate vampires down to his core like most of his friends did. He’d mostly joined to thanks to Jim’s glowing reference and the promise of traveling about. You had to dehumanize vampires to bring yourself to kill them. He’d gotten good at it and he loved to be good at something. He didn’t think now though that even if a good opportunity showed itself that he could go through killing Jaden. He’d done an excellent job at humanizing himself from the start to Jesse.

His counted ended and the final chase began. He only had until the sun rose now. Domino was huge and for once that evening, he actually felt defeated. Still, he pressed onwards and kept his search going. Every alley, every street, behind every garbage can and every car. It was like Jaden had disappeared entirely until finally he reached the first place he’d hidden. “Jaden! I know you’re there!” Jesse bluffed. He heard a chuckle come from behind him and flipped around. Jaden was so close, leaning in towards him.

“So close and yet so far.” Jaden said, gesturing over his shoulder. The sun had already begun to slink over the horizon. He felt Jaden’s thin but strong arms wrap around him and a swirling vortex of black consumed them.

[reshirement]

loose timeline bullet-list for spacehobbits!au

elves and dwarrow are the first species from middle earth into space due to a similar technological curiosity, and are quick to develop a relatively stable interstellar economy through trade (orcs appear several centuries behind and, still openly hostile and therefore unwelcome both in and nearby the territories of both races, are generally unable to retain any solid territorial footholds themselves for long, and generally cause trouble mostly through piracy and mercenary work)

khazad dum is the first major dwarrow planetside colony in space, its rapid expansion due to the discovery of mithril, an extremely versatile material when it comes to building advanced technologies, and combined with the minds of dwarrow engineers, is largely responsible for launching the dwarrow forward in their development of useful technologies by several centuries

mithril is a good bargaining chip, as its versatility removes much of the usual strain for resources it’s extremely valuable on its own, and as neither dwarrow or elvish technologies are shared cheaply, the economy remains competitive and relatively stable for a time

the planetside dwarrow colony of erebor is founded in another star system (one that’s very close to elvish territory) due to its high probability of containing mithril, causing a slight rift between the races (basically the dwarrow were like ‘is anybody gonna settle that’ and didn’t wait for an answer, which the elves really don’t like but since no direct claim had been made by them previously for the territory, there isn’t much to be done without starting a war)

the generally plentiful mithril reserves are further bolstered by the mines of erebor (and then further still when other planets in the system show further sources), the prices lower a decent amount, though the elves do not return the favor (the dwarrow are unhappy with this, though they are wealthy enough that it doesn’t matter too much, but if this was a game made by telltale, a little ominous bubble of ‘the dwarves will remember this’ would definitely appear)

hobbits are discovered by gandalf, who shares the knowledge with the white council, and the decision is made to keep them generally unknown and therefore protected

the colony of khazad dum is lost to a balrog lurking within the depths of the planet, and is subsequently abandoned, taking a decently sized chunk out both the dwarrow population and their mithril stores, upsets trade severely for a time

prices raise again, in a rapid attempt to bolster their economy following the tragedy, elves drive their own prices even higher in turn, this creates some more bad blood, though they’re still rich in mithril stores with erebor’s territory

humans arrive, a couple thousand years after the elves and dwarrow first pushed into space, and as their desire for expansion is rooted more firmly in the issue of overpopulation rather than intellectual pursuits, they settle into the economy, providing lower-end services such as trading operatives, vessels used for shipping and trade, dock workers, etc, for much cheaper prices than what both dwarrow and elves might offer

the dwarrow are the first to capitalize on this, providing an array of lesser technologies (though still better than what the humans possess) for generally fair prices and services, creating a strong tie between them. trade with the elves doesn’t become uncommon for either race necessarily, but it does fall a bit by the wayside, their lifespans and corresponding level of skill factored perhaps too permanently into their prices (think like, if you just want a burger, you COULD spend $50 down the street at the fancy place and hopefully get some masterclass chef stuff, OR you could just go to mcdonald’s and spend $4 and still be just as full at the end) and you know the drill, ‘the elves will remember this’

under thror’s rule, the dwarrow become the stable center of interstellar commerce, the area around erebor the most diverse and high trafficked in the cluster

the larger space station named dale is completed, giving the humans a both cultural center and active trading hub within erebor’s territory, furthering relations between the two species

accumulated bad blood between elves and dwarrow and the blossoming friendship with the humans has understandable effects on trade within the cluster, the dwarrow charge much higher prices for their mithril when dealing with elvish merchants, and while the elves are self sustainable in a way that humans cannot boast, they still desire the material greatly (and already feel a bit cheated by the dwarrow settling erebor), and will pay for it, though the tensions between them bubble with a more outward hostility

tensions remain at an all time high, and the elves retreat almost entirely from the economic trading system

thror’s suspicions begin to grow with the elves’ sudden lack of interest, security is tightened to prevent any possible move to usurp their economic position

the elves’ general disappearance also fosters a less healthy relationship for humans with the dwarrow, as the dwarrow begin to lean into the human’s dependence on the dwarves for trade, and before long under thror’s rule prices begin to steadily rise (this creates some amount of civil unrest for both dwarrow and humans, tightly wound as they are) and over time their economic relationship with humans also begins to sour

subtle counter offers from elvish territories begin to pull human attention away, and, though dale still functions and functions well (for now) a large portion of humans begin to move out of the territory, thror’s anger at this (expected, technically, if not in that manner) turn of events leaves him refusing to lower prices or provide alternative options, and while the dwarrow remain a large part of trade and are still generally self-sufficient through mithril, the ereborean economy loses much of its hard won stability

destabilization attracts pirates, mercenaries, and soon rumors tell of the occasional pack or orcs or worse that linger just outside claimed territory, preying on trading vessels and travelers alike

the modest human colony of esgaroth is developed within elvish territory

civil unrest turns thror’s suspicions more local, prices keep rising, security tightens ever further, and the wide-reaching a.i. smaug is created to keep close track of any fluctuations in market pricing and populations, paid taxes, etc

smaug is developed further as the economy begins to capsize, providing both a source of cheaper labor en masse, as well as security advancements planetside or otherwise (military included)

an unknown development of malicious coding causes smaug to turn on erebor and it’s surrounding system, killing thousands and collapsing the local economy within the span of a day, forcing the dwarrow and few remaining human residents to flee with what little resources they have on them, and are left unable to return

elves refuse to give aid to the dwarrow though the arriving humans settle without much fuss into the colony of esgaroth, though the invitation does not extend (both for reasons of past soured relations and a general lack of ability to support the incoming population without elvish aid)

in a desperate gambit, thror pushes the refugees to khazad dum, in an unsuccessful attempt to reclaim their abandoned colony, which has since been settled by orcs, resulting in the loss of many lives, including his own as well as his son’s disappearance

under thror’s grandson thorin ii, the remaining dwarrow’s continued exodus sends them ill prepared through treacherous areas of space, until they are reach some of their smaller, more distant mining colonies in an asteroid cluster, and though many are accommodated as well as possible, it horrendously destabilizes the areas resources, sending many dwarrow further and further and resorting to cheaper and cheaper work to provide for themselves and their families

a wizard and a dwarf walk into a bar, and plans to take back erebor are begun

[partialresonance]

Hi! You asked for Geraskier prompts. What about some fluff? Jaskier heard that Witchers can’t blush so he tries to make Geralt blush by complementing him ?

Yay, thank you for the prompt!! This was so much fun to write. :D

CW: mild innuendo, reference to beheading?? Otherwise it’s pretty tame. ~1.6k of fluff coming right up!

Jaskier is eighteen, and Geralt is quite the most interesting man he’s ever met.

Of course, he’s handsome too, which doesn’t hurt. But for the moment Jaskier is mostly concerned with the fact that he’s a witcher. Jaskier has heard countless rumors and tales about witchers but he never imagined he would have the chance to actually meet one. He can’t pass up the chance to confirm the truth of what he’s heard, straight from the source.

“Geralt, is it true that witchers can see through walls?”

Even though Jaskier has to jog to keep up with Roach and is only treated to a view of the man’s broad backside, he can hear the eye-roll in Geralt’s dry response:

“No.”

“Well that’s a shame. I imagine brothels would be quite interesting places if you could.” Jaskier’s lute bangs against the back of his thighs, and he hoists the strap higher on his shoulder. “Speaking of which, is it true that witchers have—ah, how to put this delicately—inhuman stamina?”

“I can outrun you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt shrugs, and Jaskier puts his hands on his hips, his mouth twitching into a pout.

“You’re no fun at all, Witcher.”

What he won’t ask is if it’s true that witchers don’t have feelings. Jaskier had banished the idea as rubbish from the first, when he’d gone up to Geralt in that tavern in Posada and found him brooding. One cannot brood without feeling.

“Is it true that witchers can smell fear?”

At that, there is a telling pause.

“Yes.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Can’t imagine how that’s useful though. I’ve always found it quite easy to tell when someone’s afraid, they go all bug-eyed and their hands start to shake and they stutter a lot.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Roach flicks her tail, narrowly missing Jaskier’s face. He dodges to the side, stumbling a bit on the dirt path. “Some people are good at hiding it.”

Jaskier shrugs, uninterested.

“Hmm, what else. What else,” he taps his chin, trying to dredge up the other rumors he’s heard.

“If you can’t think of anything else we could walk in silence,” Geralt says hopefully. Jaskier laughs, shaking his head. The very idea.

“Oh! I’ve got one.” He picks up his pace, jogging forward until he’s far enough ahead of Roach that he can turn and walk backwards, keeping ahead long enough to see Geralt’s expression. “Is it true that witchers can’t blush?”

“Where did you hear that one?” Geralt looks unimpressed. He flicks the reins and Roach springs into a trot; Jaskier has to leap to the side to avoid the devilish mare. Thankfully Geralt doesn’t seem intent on leaving him behind; after a few paces Roach slows to a walk again, though Jaskier is huffing by the time he finally catches up.

“Oh, you know,” Jaskier wheezes, clutching a stitch in his side. He waves a hand vaguely. “Around.”

He’d heard it in reference to the only place on a witcher’s body blood could rush to, but, well. Geralt doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes. It’s true.”

“Is it really?” Jaskier squints up at Geralt. He wishes he was a witcher who could sniff out lies. “You know it’s illegal to lie to a bard, don’t you?”

Geralt doesn’t answer, and now that Jaskier has run out of questions his mind seizes on a new game.

Make Geralt blush.

“Hey, Geralt!” Jaskier swings his lute around and plucks a few notes. “You ever heard the one about the fishmonger’s daughter?” And without further ado, he launches into the most downright filthy version he knows. It’s barely even innuendo, containing outright descriptions of exactly what the fishmonger’s daughter likes to do with her catch, even including a few dramatic moans and sighs on Jaskier’s part because he is nothing if not an excellent performer. He keeps a close eye on Geralt’s expression, but to his dismay all he sees is the gradual tightening of his jaw and flattening of his eyebrows. By the end of the song he looks downright murderous.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like that one. Heh.” Jaskier plucks a discordant note, underlining his failure to please the witcher with his song, as well as rouse even the faintest of pink tones to his pale skin. “Well, not everyone has a sense of humor. That’s alright.”

Damn it. What could he do to make a witcher blush?

After another mile or so Jaskier is forced to admit that the sex angle simply doesn’t affect the witcher. He’d tried everything--describing some of his own conquests, real and imagined, and he’d even faked a limp and sighed wistfully about his night with the innkeeper’s son! None of it has any effect on the man. And, with a cruel spike of embarrassment that brings heat to his own cheeks, Jaskier abruptly realizes it’s because the century-old witcher likely has seen and done things he can scarce imagine. 

It’s all old hat to him, then.

“Have it your way then, you big old brute.” Jaskier consoles himself by playing his favorite songs at the loudest possible volume, his voice echoing off the canyons. He thinks Geralt has mostly tuned him out, until abruptly he wheels Roach around and makes a sharp gesture at Jaskier. His yellow cat-eyes scan the surrounding hills.

“Shut up, bard.”

Jaskier scoffs, and strums a few loud chords.

“Well you could at least ask nicely if you’re--”

An arrow stabs into the ground, an inch from Jaskier’s foot. Jaskier jumps into the air with a yelp.

Bandits seem to pour down from the hills, and Geralt and Roach charge in to deal with them. Jaskier, weaponless and frightened, darts off of the path in the opposite direction, down a small gully to hide behind a bush.

Well, he hasn’t lived this long by sticking around for the danger! Someone has to live to tell the tale, after all.

It’s over faster than Jaskier would have imagined. He catches glimpses of Geralt moving smoothly through the fight, a whirlwind of steel and white hair. The big witcher actually looks graceful, spinning on one heel and swinging his arm in a broad arc to lop off the last bandit’s head. Jaskier swallows, feeling odd and sort of warm all over.

When he’s certain the bandits are dead he doesn’t hesitate to scramble up the hill to where Geralt is standing amidst the carnage, sheathing his sword.

“Do people do that a lot?” Jaskier tells himself his voice isn’t that shaky as he brushes off the knees of his trousers and hoists his lute onto his back. “Just attack you out of nowhere?”

“Hmm.” Geralt stands from where he’d been crouched over one of the corpses. He slips their purse into Roach’s saddlebags, then mounts her in a smooth motion.

Jaskier wrinkles his nose at the corpse. He doesn’t usually see death up close like this--his experience is more of the ‘passing by the suspicious lump in the alleyway without looking too closely’ variety. He’s frightened, but with Geralt at his side starts to feel a little bit brave. The bandit certainly isn’t scary like this, with his stupid head lying across the path. He sticks his tongue out at the corpse and then jogs after Geralt and Roach.

“Well, they should know better, shouldn’t they? I don’t think you even broke a sweat.”

“Hmm.”

“No, I mean it. That was genuinely impressive.”

“Shut up, bard, or you’ll draw more of them.” Geralt turns his head away, but not before Jaskier catches something interesting in his expression. He jogs forward, until he’s striding beside Roach and level with Geralt’s knee. If he looks out of the corner of his eye he can just barely make out Geralt’s face. A sly smile curls his lips.

“Do people ever compliment you? Or are they too busy shitting themselves because you’re a big, scary witcher?”

Geralt stares straight ahead. 

“That’s a shame, really. Compliments do wonders for the self-esteem. I can’t go long without one before I simply wither away like an autumn leaf. And there’s so much to compliment you on.”

“Fuck off.”

“Geralt, I’m being serious.” Alright, so maybe he was also teasing a bit, but Jaskier’s voice took on a strident, genuine note as he turned his head to gaze up at the witcher. “What you did back there might seem like nothing to you, but I was terrified. If they wanted to kill me they could have done so easily, except you were there so now they’re all lying in pieces while we make our merry way on. Take that, bandit, you don’t need your legs!” Jaskier laughs and makes a slicing motion as if severing an imaginary bandit’s torso from his lower appendages.

“It’s nice, not to have to be afraid of whatever random asshole comes my way. I think I’ll stick with you after all. It doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes as well.” Jaskier winks. Geralt keeps darting his eyes between Jaskier and the path ahead. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, but Jaskier doesn’t think it’s in a bad way at all. “Big witcher man with your nice hair and all that muscle beneath your armor. You looked like you were dancing, you know.”

“Jaskier…” It’s a low growl, a warning, and it sends a shiver straight down Jaskier’s spine. He bites his lower lip to keep from smiling too broadly, and that’s when he sees it:

The distinct, pale pink undertone blooming to life beneath Geralt’s glowing (beautiful) yellow eyes.

Oh. Jaskier is in trouble.

He clears his throat, taking a few steps to the side and letting Roach get a little bit ahead of him. He strums his lute, a spring in his step as he follows his witcher, imagining feeling the heat of Geralt’s blush beneath his fingertips.

[paint-lady]

hey, if you don't mind, i want your advice: i'm going to be running a chronicle set in chicago (i am using the chicago by night 5e book) for players who are new to vampire for the most part in a few days and i can't For The Life of Me to come up with an interesting chronicle hook (yeah i have read the hooks in the book). any ideas/suggestions/general advice?

Hiya! I could talk your ears off on how I write my chronicles- so hopefully I have taken all my processes and reduced it down to a lovely World of Darkness jam. 

Here are two good hooks I just came up with- feel free to use them! The third is what I got for my first chronicle, and I just think its a narrative that works very well for new players.

>Option 1: Guilty Until Proven Innocent ”Chicago is a series of paradoxes and transitions, of ever changing paradigms and whimsy,” (CbN 47). Have your coterie be newbies to the city. Ask why they have come to Chicago. Power? A new start? Perhaps this is a political arrangement between the clan of one city with another. Whatever their reason, they have arrived right when a Primogen vanishes- and guess who is first on the suspect list? The fresh faces on the streets >:) The coterie, having barely settled, has to suddenly prove their innocence. And finding evidence lets them uncover something much more sinister....

This one is ideal for new players as it sets everyone on an equal footing. Even if they create a character that has been a vampire for 50+ years and has amassed several dots of influence, herd, status- whatever, they are still new to the city. And being new means you have to start all over again. (This may be frustrating to a player that invested all those points at character creation- but it is on you as the ST to make sure they have opportunities to use those dots and on them as a player to think cleverly.)

Starting the tale off with defending their innocence is actually a very engaging questline. It effectively sets the stage for the political powerhouses. It lets new players know there are rules- and those in power are watching. It also sets the consequences for failure. Understand that the Camarilla probably isnt going to outright kill the coterie if they fail- always make the punishment just harsh and grueling enough to make final death feel like a mercy. Failure isn’t the end of the story.

For new players- I would be lenient with the time it takes for them to find evidence. But within reason. Think like your Prince and Seneschal. Do you really want this coterie running around for a full week, unsupervised, making more messes? No. You don’t. (You might wanna send an npc with them to watch and keep em out of trouble. Your npc is also able to vouch for them.)

This story lends itself to be a Camarilla Chronicle very easily. You can go Anarch, but an Anarch leader suddenly vanishing and blaming the newbies is much more quickly going to end with blood spilled. Thank your local sweeper.

> Option 2: Containment Breach Blacksite 24 (Loresheet on page 264) was temporarily occupied by Operation Firstlight. It has now been transformed into a medical research facility. While most kindred of Chicago know of Blacksite 24, they have zero clue what happens inside other than bad news for them- the less they know the safer they are. The chronicle opens with a car crash. The captured soon-to-be coterie was in transit to this feared medical facility. The crash did kill the driver and the agent in charge of transporting them. The crash did not fully break their restraints, but it did enough damage that first responders are freaking out. They are all at hunger 3. The chronicle is a hunt. The coterie should have some knowledge of what had happened to them and how lucky they are to have escaped. Operatives are already on their way to recapture them. They must hide in this city- and do their best to survive and stay out of sight.

The point of this story is to invoke dread. I highly recommend one player either being a thin-blood (or an npc) with the Daydrinker merit, or a player to have a ghoul. If they decide to not have a daywatch, they increase their chance of being found.

This story also sets up a feeling of desperation. They would be willing to take shelter from anyone- anyone. Eventually the other kindred will catch on that these guys are on the run from something. Any sane kindred would toss them out to protect themselves. A compassionate kindred who takes them in will suffer the final death as a compassionate fool- or join them in captivity. 

This story lends itself to be an Anarch Chronicle much more easily. This is the time the Camarilla will likely be a bit more paranoid and bloody. While they might not outright kill the coterie- they will send them somewhere that is a death trap. They wont dirty their hands with this. After all, you do not want any evidence to fall into the hands of the SI if you hired the hit.

This story is ideal for newbies without background merits. No allies, no influence, no herd. Let them take more mythic merits such as bloodhound and unbondable (Consider finding some from V20 too! There are some really awesome supernatural merits!). These powers would certainly be more fascinating for a medical team to study- not how many instagram followers they have. This kind of story also lets your players feel more powerful- but out of the loop. It lends itself to them forging alliances and getting caught in one-sided favors a lot more quickly. 

The challenging aspect of this story is that is starts with a masquerade breach. New players may not know how to handle such a blatant breach and thats okay. I would let the crash slide- and the Camarilla in the background handles it. Breaches after the crash need to be handled with proper consequences. 

> Option 3: New Blood This is what my storyteller did to me and my first time players (and its also very close to the plot of CoNY). We were shovelheads. Embraced to make a huge mess for the Camarilla and die quick deaths. We were all thin-bloods. The last thing the pcs remember is the sweet rush of ecstasy washing over them, before clawing out of the earth and driven mad by an insatiable hunger. The thrill of the hunt, and the sweet, warm blood on their tongue, nothing was going to be better. All three will awake next to each other, surrounded by the corpses they drank dry in their frenzy. What a way to play the name game! The players have three nights were they figure out their new condition or coverup their tracks (if they think to do it). They contend with their hunger and hatred of sunlight, wrestle with accidentally drinking their family member dry. After three nights, the Scourge comes knocking. Rather than outright killed, they are dragged to Elysium. For some reason, they are adopted by an upstanding member of the Camarilla- or the Prince orders a political rival care for them (hoping they fail). The players are the errand childer of this kindred, and slowly they figure out what they have been gathering through all these errands....

This one lets the characters all have the moments where they discover their disciplines and powers- and bestial tendencies. It naturally flows to allow players to slowly discover the rules and mechanics as well. All players must play fledglings for this tale. 

This story is much more a personal tale than a political one. Eventually politics makes its way in...but it does not have to be a focus. 

This story has less of a hook and more of a “Figure it Out” survival mode until the errands begin. The story is how the character’s react to their condition. It very quickly lends itself to a narrative of finding your own path in the night, rather than mindlessly obeying.

So here are a few questions that I ask myself when crafting a chronicle story:

1. What kind of story do you want to tell? Not asking for a plot hook, I’m asking for a general concept. Is it a tale of good triumphing over evil? (Not necessarily a wrong answer, but if you wanna play good guys...vampire is not the best game for that). Is this a chase? Is this a race against time? 

2. How do you want your story to make your players feel? Do you want to tell a story that invokes as much dread as possible in your players? Do you want them to feel ultra powerful? Vampire is both a power fantasy and a dread inducing game- it can do both. 

3. If you don’t know what kind of story you want to tell, switch gears to worldbuilding. CbN has so many NPCs with the rumors already written for you. Its your setting, perhaps switch two rumors around with prominent NPCs. Decide which ones are true in your setting- Maybe Primogen Annabell did kill her predecessor. Perhaps the Lasombra are attempting to infiltrate the Camarilla as everyone fears- but no one is able to prove it or stop it. Deciding what is true, false, and undetermined usually blossoms into hooks and stories worth investigating.

4. What is a historical event of the city that the Vampires would have endured/ scars would have remained? For example, in my chronicle set in Richmond, the tale of the Richmond Vampire is true. Depending on who you ask, it is the Camarilla’s best or sloppiest cover up. Have the chronicle coincide with the events and the coterie live through them. No one said this must take place in 2021- you can do 2015, 2008, -hell go back the 1990s. Its actually super fun if you set your chronicle in the 90s and your Malkavian is using phrases from 2020.

5. One of my things I do when writing scenes and moments is play Dread by myself. Dread is a role playing game played with jenga. There are no dice rolls, if you want to attempt something, you have to pull pieces from the tower. If the tower falls, you die. If there is a moment where I really really really dont want to pull from the tower, though the reward for succeeding is so so sweet- I keep the moment. If its really easy to shrug and go eh, I can live without performing that action- go back and rewrite it. If you have no incentive to pull from the tower, why would they?

6. Examine your player’s desires and ambitions- and do not neglect them in your chronicle. The plot wont magically allow all of them to achieve their ambitions. However, provide opportunities for them through the plot. Its on them to strive for what their character wants- its on you to make them struggle but have the path to get there. For example, if a player wants to become a Baron, provide a political opening. Perhaps then by announcing their power, they have made a bigger name for themselves and it has become harder to hide. Perhaps by doing this, the kindred they owe a favor is suddenly much more vocal about it. 

Here are some suggestions for handling new players:

> You are going to have to handhold them through some things. New players to vtm won’t be able to see the cascading political web and how the consequences of their actions will ripple into waves. I like to use Wits+Insight and call it Common Sense. Common Sense was a merit in V20- and damn is it WONDERFUL. All they need is just 1 success (they can take half) to have you explain how whatever plan they just thought of is actually a TERRIBLE idea. 

> Do your RPG consent list. Know what is safe to discuss and what is off the table. I highly recommend utilizing something my Storyteller used for my first chronicle, and subsequently I use for all my ttrpgs now: Invoking the Veil. The metaphor is that you are slowly lessening the intensity of a scene- as if raising the opacity or looking through layers of fabric. Eventually, there is too much fabric and you can no longer see the scene. If something is too intense, the ST or the player may announce they are invoking the veil. Reduce the scene by lowering music, speaking in third person, or avoiding heavy descriptors. You can reduce it further to just dice rolls. Role play stops, and the consequences of the scene are solely dictated by the dice. Or fade to black. If a player is repeatedly fading to black on something- ask to talk to them about it. Clearly something is too intense and they are not having as much fun as they can. Debriefing after a session is also a good idea. Do something silly! Share and check all the memes in the discord chat. Its important to make sure you and your players know that at the end of the night- its all just a game.

> I find the sabbat and new players don’t tend to mix well. You may absolutely still use the sabbat in your chronicle! But the dogma and philosophical ideals of the sabbat can be offputting and downright upsetting to a first time player. You may absolutely build to it- that’s what I did to my players. And in the moment of the truth, they chose to cling to humanity. 

> The taking half mechanic is your friend! V5 says players may announce how many dice they are rolling- and if the dividend is greater than the DC- they auto succeed. This streamlines play. Of course, you as the Storyteller may say this is a roll they are not allowed to take half on. Usually these are contested rolls (combat).

> The three turns and out rule keeps combat intense but not too lengthy. It actually streamlines encounters super super well. 

> My ST used a phrase, “The quickest way to kill Cthulhu is to give it a healthbar.” If Methuselahs and Elders are involved in your game- avoid giving them stat blocks. This cultivates a conflict that new players must find a way to overcome without brute force combat. It makes them think critically and defy these super old antagonists through narrative means. This also gets the notion out of your and their heads, “if they die, its over.” Its never that easy. Never. 

[draven-imani]

Journal 5 (part 1)

We’ve had an…extremely productive day. We found a note on Hosilla’s person that detailed three safehouses of the cult of Baphomet: Nyserian Manor, Topaz Solutions, and the Tower of Estrod. The note was signed SV—which I’m assuming is Stauton Vhagn. Looks like he came back and finished the job of destroying the Wardstone after Commander Tirabade stopped him the first time.

After talking to Aravashnial, Anevia, and Horgus, we pooled our information together. Nyserian Manor was owned by a noble who sometimes worked with Horgus, and had taken out a loan from him once to buy Commander Tirabade’s sword from her. Anevia hadn’t been aware Irabeth had sold her sword—apparently she’d told her wife she’d lost it. Anevia was going to be having words with the commander of the Eagle Watch upon seeing her again.

The Tower of Estrod was of interest to Aravashnial, as it was a place of arcane studies. He also requested that we look into the Blackwing Library, where the Riftwardens would be located.

Anevia wanted to look for Irabeth, and therefore would like to look into going home as that was the only lead she had on where her wife may be.

As we discussed, we exited the subterranean tunnels and entered the sewers. And came upon three orphan kids and a middle aged pinkish tiefling woman with many piercings and a bow. The orphans immediately ran to Luna, clearly familiar with her. Another point in her favor for ‘good person, not a murderer/serial killer/whatever else the rumor mill decides to say’.

“So you must be ‘Una’,” the tiefling said, imitating the orphans mispronunciation of her name. Or maybe legitimately mistaking her name for that. “Nice to meet you, incase you haven’t noticed, everything’s gone to hell.”

The tiefling introduced herself as Hiskaria. She had arrived in town from Numeria recently to join the Raven Corps, actually, although she was apparently a Kenabres native initially. She was on lone by one ‘Kevoth-Kul’, because she was a criminal on parole, and joining the Raven Corps was her penance.

Ouch.

Aaaaaand as the only member of the Raven Corps around that means it fell on me to keep her around until we could either find her handler or someone with more authority. That and strength in numbers. We couldn’t exactly leave her behind, even if she is a confessed murderer.

Oh, yeah, I didn’t mention that her crime was murder did I? Yeah, our new buddy’s a convicted murderer. One fake murderer and one real one, and if I had to put money on it, everyone’s going to get who’s who wrong.

After some discussion, we decided to head for Horgus’ manor first. It would provide a safe place to leave the orphans, so that we wouldn’t be dragging them around in the open where every demon still lurking around might decide to swoop down on them.

We made it there with only minor incident, some rat demon ripping up a clothing store who dubbed himself ‘the rat king’. He was of personal offense to Melody given that he was in the process of destroying things of beauty. That and the owners of the shop were still there and might be able to salvage some things.

Given my studies I was able to identify the demon as an Abrikandilu, a wrecker demon. A destroyer of beauty, not just of artwork like the dresses, but of physical beauty, using their fangs to cause horrible scarring on those they attack. I also knew that Radiance was the only weapon we had that would pierce its defenses, although it also had a unique weakness to mirrors, due to all demons of this kind having an abhorrence of their own visage. That being the case, I suggested that Luna and Melody slip into the store to get one of the mirrors from the changing rooms within while I distracted and fought it with Radiance and Hiskaria took pot shots at it from a safe distance.

Radiance and I were both more than happy to finally be putting a demon to the blade.

Spilling demons’ blood, at least, we both agree on.

Things went off about how we’d hoped. The Abrikandilu was a bit faster than I’d anticipated and it rushed me rather than me pinning it by the building as I’d planned, but I stopped its fangs with my shield and avoided any new scars. Melody and Luna came out with a mirror, which drew the demon’s attention. Luna’s axe stuck into it. Then Radiance slew it.

Radiance roared in my head each time it drew blood against a demonic foe, in what I can only describe as ecstasy. They, at least, get joy from battle. I wish I could say the same, but the demons die all the same. I feel good about it, that we slayed the demon and helped those people. It’s something good. Not joy, that’s too strong of a word. I feel—satisfied, maybe?

Regardless, the shop owners thanked us. They had little to offer and we tried to assure them that we didn’t need anything, but they insisted on at least providing us with a nice outfit each in thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so fine. An orphan and a soldier don’t exactly make for elegant living.

Afterwards we made it to Horgus’ manor with no further incidents. His holdings were untouched. Melody mused at first that perhaps someone was trying to frame him. However after some thought, Hiskaria and I disagreed with that assessment. Demons by nature would seek out where the most people are, the places where they could wreak the most havoc. And as we approached it was clear that his manor was devoid of life. It would seem that his men and his servants had fled their posts when the attack happened, and as a lucky result the manor had been untouched. I’ll give Horgus some credit here. While he was clearly visibly upset that the men he’d hired to protect his holdings had left their posts, he tried very hard to be reasonable that it was for the best that they’d left and protected the servants, and that it had indirectly kept the demons from destroying his things. He was however very upset that they’d taken all of the mints from the little bowl at the front entrance—as was Miss Melody, who bemoaned that it was quite rude of them. Ah what I would give to have her priorities.

Luna was shepherding the orphans—one of whom, Hamm, had taken a shine to Hiskaria’s magic and gotten it into his head that he was going to…what was it? Summon demons in his snot bubbles? Charming kid. Glad his entire world falling apart around him didn’t completely destroy his sense of innocence and wonder. Suppose he was lucky he ran into Hiskaria so the three of them didn’t get killed or worse. That’s a point in her favor.

After gathering up food from the kitchen and some entertainment for the kids from a room formerly used for the staff’s children while they were on the job, Horgus went down to the safest part of the manor: the vault. He opened the safe, which proved to have been completed untouched. Inside was more wealth than I’d probably ever seen in one place before, or ever will again. He paid Luna that looked like a rather hefty sum. Then he also paid myself, Melody, and Hiskaria 1000 gold for returning him here safely, although payment had never been promised. Hiskaria tried to argue that she’d only just joined with us, but he said that it was payment due to someone who couldn’t be here to take their cut.

Horgus…is a complicated man, I am beginning to realize. I cannot pin him down yet. Even more than most people, his words and actions do not align. And even some of his actions I think are more masks on top of that. Luna insists he’s a good man but won’t give details beyond that. She’s had a few private conversations with him, so I’m inclined to believe she knows something that’s given her that impression. And I trust Luna’s judgement in people.

As Horgus locked himself away, we heard the beginnings of him teaching the kids something or another about some…math thing. I don’t know, look, I’m not the one to look to about Abadar tax bracket stuff. Luna was just glad he was hopefully keeping Hamm from thinking about snot demons.

From there we went next door, to Nyserian Manor. Or what was left of it. Which was not much. At all. Or anything, really. See, the demons hadn’t been very discerning in their building demolition. They’d destroyed their own safehouse. Idiots. Served anyone who was inside right for betraying humanity to the demons.

Next up was Blackwing Library.

Oh Blackwing Library. This one made me angry.

If you know me you know that’s bad. Of course, you don’t know me, because you’re just a bundle of inanimate papers sandwiched in leather that I’m writing in to keep my tenuous grip on sanity together. Suffice to say: that’s bad. I don’t get angry easily. Unless you’re a Deskari worshipper or waving his symbol in my face like I’m a bull, but I mean, that’s just asking for trouble from any Iomedaen, really.

As we approached the library, it was immediately apparent that the entire thing had been decimated. Aravashnial was despondent. All of his friends and colleagues with the Riftwardens would have been there, and he feared the worst. While Melody and surprisingly Hiskaria tried to comfort him, Luna tried to sneak closer to look into the library. I stuck close to her, although not so close as to blow her cover.

What she saw was a turncoat Iomedaen with five librarians bound and gagged, and a sixth librarian being forced to pile books around them, to serve as both a book burning and a funeral pyre.

We didn’t have long to think as he pulled out the flint and tinder. Luna downed a potion of invisibility and vanished. We had to put our faith in her. And as usual, she didn’t let us down, as a moment later blood splattered across the floor and she reappeared behind the armored man with her hood up and a declaration that she was “the Butcher of Balestreet, Bitch”.

The cavalier’s two tiefling thugs tried to flank Luna, but I helped fight off one and Hiskaria finished them with a potshot from outside the door that got him right between the eyes, while Melody swooped in to take a stab at the other.

Luna clearly outmatched the man she was facing, and he was smart enough to realize it. He dropped his weapons, and offered to surrender. He swore if we let him go, he’d never do such a thing again.

The others seemed ready to let their guards down.

I didn’t buy it.

I could feel it. This was an evil man. The kind who would just turn around and do something like this again the second he had an opportunity, if we let him live.

Luna lowered her weapon to go deal with the tiefling thug. I told her what I just wrote, that if we let him go he would just harm others. She said it wasn’t going to be her choice to make.

If anyone was making this choice, it was going to be me, and me alone.

Melody tried to reason that maybe we could get some information out of him. That we could take him alive, and question him. After all, that’s what she was best at.

And then what, I asked her. What do we do with him after that? There weren’t any jails. The city was in chaos. Where do we put him when we’re done questioning him so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else?

He swore again that he’d just go away and be good. I called bullshit.

Melody said maybe he’d know more about the safehouses, or the other plans. What we’d potentially be walking into.

Fine. For the safety of the rest of the group, I’d take him alive.

So I punched the cocky bastard in the face and left him to Melody.

Hiskaria and Luna went about helping the librarians while Melody did her thing. She manacled the man and tied him up for a nice friendly chat. I stuck around. I didn’t trust this man. Kaleb, I learned his name was. Much good it did.

Melody woke him up. First thing he did was tried to play ignorant. Tried to pretend like he’d been possessed, like he hadn’t been in control of his own faculties before.

Bullshit. More lies.

Melody saw through his lies this time just as much as I had. She told him to start over and try again.

Next he tried to weave a sob story about how he’d been coerced into doing what he’d done. How he was a crusader who’s unit had been taken captive, and he’d been forced into committing evil acts out of desperation.

Again, nothing but lies. All he knew how to do was lie, habitually, spew whatever falsehood he thought would get him in our good graces.

When Melody and I called him out on it again, he snapped. In a final act of rebellious desperation, he finally told the truth. He’s nothing but scum of the earth. He was a crusader, and his unit had been wiped out, that was the one honest thing that had left this mouth. Afterwards he’d decided to hedge his bets and side with the demons, so he started committing every atrocity he could to try to win their favor. And he swore that when he died and went to the pits of the Abyss to be reborn he’d come back.

And flay us alive.

Bad choice of words.

I think the bull metaphor before was apt, because I certainly saw red for a moment. I don’t think anyone was in disagreement when I stabbed Radiance through his blackened heart at this point though.

We didn’t learn anything though. Except that he wasn’t a cultist. Just a psychopath who found an excuse to start killing people.

As we discussed our next course of action, the librarian we’d rescued approached us. He knew that Aravashnial was with the Riftwardens, and he knew what had happened to them. The Riftwardens after locking what they could in their vault had teleported to a different location, meaning Aravashnial’s friends were safely somewhere else. Unfortunately, a day later someone else arrived. Xanthir Vang. Another of Deskari’s generals. A worm that walks, a terrible creature that is both a swarm and one being bound to Deskari’s will. Xanthir cut through the floor, right above where the vault would be in the secret Riftwarden floors below, and lifted the entire vault from the floor. Then he ripped it apart like it was nothing. He seemed disappointed that the Riftwardens weren’t there—predictably, I suppose, since he had a personal grudge against them.

We found a single dead and dried up worm husk in a corner of the room. I don’t like this. It’s probably my imagination that my arm itches. Probably. Another of Deskari’s generals so close. That’s…terrifying.

With this information tucked away, we decided to head for Anevia’s home to look for clues of where Commander Tirabade may be. Mostly to make sure her wife was safe, and to inform her of everything we’d found out thus far, and a little tiny bit to ask her about that sword she’d apparently sold behind her back.

On the way, we were accosted by a skeletal demon from atop a building, who also called himself the rat king. He claimed the one we’d defeated before was a usurper, and then summoned a swarm of dire rats to attack us. We dealt with the dire rats handily enough. They took a few chomps at me, annoying little things. Between rats and lizards, do I just taste good or something?

Nope, just licked my hand to test it, I’m quite certain I do not taste good.

We arrived to a small unassuming house. Irabeth’s funds clearly went to things other than worldly possessions. Not that it was a bad house. I’m not trying to be judgmental of Irabeth Tirabade I’m just saying with her position most people would have much larger quarters, so she clearly puts hers to good use elsewhere. I’m not one to judge small living quarters, I live in the barracks. Which probably are in ruins now. Ah, well. Not like I had anything of sentimental value in there anyways. My fiddle, my sword, and my shield were on my person, those were the only things I might have cried over losing. And then my sword got forcefully replaced by a talkative holy blade anyways.

I wish I could say Radiance is growing on me like Horgus. Unfortunately, we got off an extremely wrong foot and they haven’t exactly tried to mend any bridges. Luna says I should be more assertive with them, since I’m the only one who can wield them, they need me to do their holy mission they want. And Radiance even agreed with her, because of course they did.

Figures. A guy tries to be nice to the holy sword who he’ll have to be working with for the foreseeable future and apparently even trying to just not make waves with the being you’ll have to work with talking in your head is the wrong move.

Fine…assertive. What do they want me to do, put Radiance in time out in their little box when they get uppity? That is a funny image though.

I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

Right, reread a few paragraphs, Anevia’s house. So, Luna and Melody took a peek inside to make sure nothing was lurking around inside.

Predictably, something was lurking around inside.

He was invisible, but when Melody began using detect evil he ‘pinged’, so she had an idea of where the invisible presence was. The invisible presence summoned a fire beetle outside to attack Anevia, but Hiskaria turned and shot it dead before it got a chance.

Melody and Luna had a good idea where the invisible foe was, and began to force him back into a corner, although their swings of axe and glaive kept hitting nothing but air.

I came in, and I swear to you Iomedae guided Radiance’s blade. Not only did I strike true, from the amount of red that splattered across the ground, I’m certain I hit something vital. That, and I made him very angry. The next thing I saw was an enraged orc, whose invisibility faded away as a blast of fire was released from his hand point blank in my face. Too familiar. Far too familiar. And then darkness.

And then I was awake again, Melody tipping one of my potions into my mouth. Luna had bloodied the orc, but he’d refused to go down in his blind frenzy. Then Hiskaria had stepped in and finished the job.

I proceeded to heal myself a little more thoroughly while the ladies talked to Anevia about what just happened.

Huh, now that Aravashnial and Horgus are gone I am the only guy in the little group of ours, aren’t I?

The prettiest guy in our group by default as well, not that that’s saying much.

Anevia recognized the orc, he was someone who Irabeth had stopped from some previous scheme years back, who she’d left out in the world alive. Apparently, he came back for revenge. He won’t be getting a third chance.

With that settled and no more assassins lurking about, Anevia went to her and Irabeth’s bedroom and opened a secret compartment. Inside she read a note and took out some supplies. She told us that Commander Tirabade and the other remaining Crusaders were hiding out at the Defender’s Heart tavern, and the passcode to get in was “Silverstrong”.

We decided to go straight there, as it was closer than any of the safehouses, and allies were still more useful than victories at the moment.

I was especially feeling that way when that damn skeleton ‘rat king’ showed up again, and threw a flock of vultures at us. Most of which decided to descend upon me. I know vultures are a bad omen but come on, that’s too on the nose even for me. What’s worse? Do you know what’s worse? What’s even worse than vultures? Fiend vultures. These things could smite. I had, no joke, five buzzards smiting me like a bunch of feathery antipaladins.

Just my cursed luck again. Why does Desna hate me?

So, yeah. I was hurting. And really wanting some rest. While everyone else was ready and raring to go for two more safehouses after we finished meeting with the Commander. I finished healing myself again and I was almost tapped out of spells, and completely out of potions. My fervor was wearing thin as well. Luna was all well and good, she didn’t use spells. Hiskaria was fine, she mostly only used her cantrips to empower her bow to fire twice—a neat trick that didn’t really cost her anything. Melody had used one judgement and some spells but she was just fine and equally ready to go.

Ever the weak link.

Eh, no point thinking like that, right? Plenty more happened after that. We arrived to Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode. They came out to meet us, initially excited to see Anevia.

Then they saw Luna, still with her hood up in her Butcher guise from our fight earlier.

Oops.

We tried to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like. That she wasn’t actually a murderer. That the rumors and stories and reports were wrong. Anevia tried to back us up. Luna took off her hood, and pointed out that she drank one of the two of them under the table at this very tavern just a few days prior, and no one got hurt. Despite our best efforts, tensions were raising. The guards were going for their weapons, and we were surrounded. The paladins were throwing accusations, and no one was listening to our words, they were only hearing what they believed to be true.

Then a strong hand came down on both of the guards’ shoulders. A voice spoke, and told them that maybe sometime they should try actually using the gift Iomedae grants them to detect evil.

Irabeth Tirabade stood behind the two guards, in the flesh, as…everything as I ever would have imagined. Tall, proud, honorable, noble.

The guards scrambled to cast the detect spells, and predictably found that Luna was not evil. They were puzzled but relaxed somewhat. Then jumped and went for their weapons again when they looked in Hiskaria’s direction.

The Commander told them that it was alright, and held up some papers, saying all the paperwork was in order for Hiskaria.

It looked like she was officially Raven Corps now.

Commander Tirabade picked up Anevia and carried her inside, and asked the four of us to follow. She got to quarters where she could lay Anevia down, then turned to me.

And the conversation went something like this.

“Acting Captain of the Raven Corps,” she said.

I was flabbergasted for a moment then realized she had to be talking to me because there was literally no one else she could be talking to. “Me?”

[godkilller]

I'm not sure how to go about this, but after reading the interaction between Aizen (KEIKAKUDORI) and Rangiku (DOKUHAI). I had to wonder what the interactions would be if Aizen met Keiko. I don't know if this is an idea any of you would be interested in and I don't know if asking all 4 (3) of you would be appropriate, just a thought - and sorry if I ask you too much.

          out of character. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT !! THE GIN IN ME FOUGHT ANSWERING THIS FOR SOME TIME NOW BUT I MUST RELENT. At last. Gin fought the good fight.

          So, if @keikoh ever met @keikakudori, Gin would absolutely lose his shit first and foremost. Keep his daughter away from Aizen, please. @dokuhai’s Rangiku is going to have to hold Gin back from physically sending Aizen into space with the power of his punch for so much as looking at his daughter. Overprotective father? Overprotective father. But in fairness, it’s Aizen, is Gin truly being ‘overprotective’ or simply protective? One should never assume it’s utterly harmless to even merely chat with the man. Aizen has an insidious way of uprooting or entangling people with a few choice words alone, don’t give him a conversation’s chance less you believe yourself immune to his sly ways. And chances are you’re not immune. Even Gin, at the end of the day, for all of his silver-tongued ways and manipulation mastery, fell prey to what Aizen wanted from him.

          Gin wants his daughter to live a life freed from that stain, even if it means ignoring her questions / a self-fulfilling prophecy of avoiding Aizen as a topic so much so that she seeks out answers on her own. Which is exactly the scenario that would have to happen, albeit still incredibly rare to actually unfold in Keiko’s favor considering Aizen’s locked in Muken and she’d have to be granted permission to visit. Gin being a reinstated captain lifted of all his restrictions post-Blood War means he would sense, know, and be able to act upon feeling Keiko heading towards Muken. You know he’d show up in a fucking blink if he felt that. You just know. Carts her back home by her ear. Tells her something about how “making stupid life decisions surroundin’ that man must run in my blood” -- and she’d have to be sneakier about it.

          But what is an Ichimaru if not a lil sneaky gremlin, right?

          Keiko is fearless, or even when fearful is determined to appear and act bravely. Internally, if she ever was to meet Aizen? Keiko would be understandably nervous, if not afraid, knowing from stories that this man almost destroyed Karakura Town and nearly killed her dad. But she’d want answers, namely ‘why’ questions as to what Aizen wanted, why he did what he did, why her father joined him, what Aizen and Gin did. Things Gin hasn’t told her, hasn’t elaborated on, out of his own fear and lack of communication that he’s still working on to this day. She’s generally going into this meeting wholly uninformed, save for rumors and whispers from the Shinigami population who were present during the Winter War, and even then? What happened between Aizen and Gin that day’s almost completely undisclosed. She’ll ask what happened, why, how, and what Aizen thinks now. Things that would make for a very interesting discussion if Aizen dared to humor her.

         There aren’t very many others, if any, who know what went down that day. Even Rangiku only came in at the tail end. Tatsuki and friends perhaps know an important slice of the picture, a notable moment in which they exclaim ‘hopefully they kill each other!’ whilst escaping Aizen’s focus because Gin intervened. From outsiders perspectives, Gin shows up, the kids run off, Aizen’s reiatsu drops dead, and then comes slamming back down a few minutes later. Gin’s cut down. Ichigo arrives. It’s easy to fill in the blanks with rumors as to why the two had a ‘falling out’ as Tatsuki and co. observed after Aizen defeated Gin.

          That’s as much as Keiko knows, and it frustrates her, because if anyone asks her about it, all hushed like gossip, all uninformed as she is, shouldn’t she know more about her own father? When people bad-mouth her dad, or bring up that he’s a war criminal, wouldn’t it be nice to know more than them? Gin’s betrayal of Soul Society and then his subsequent betrayal of Aizen aren’t just small moments to not know about. The traitorous trio’s rebellion against Soul Society’s one for the history books, and then one of the main reasons Aizen was both unable to destroy Karakura Town, as well as why he’s now immortal, is tied directly to Gin. Keiko may even seek out @njnth’s Tousen, who survived and became an outcast after the events of the Winter War, for answers. Gin wouldn’t keep her from him, either, because he knows that Tousen wouldn’t be malicious in his retellings, nor would he really want to linger on the past during his own healing. They’re both, for lack of better wording, recovering victims of abuse and trauma -- the topic won’t be carried along lightly. Gin knows and respects Tousen for keeping his answers to Keiko’s questions short and not... harsh.

          And Keiko would respect Tousen enough to know not to overstep. She wouldn’t hound the man. He’d be like an uncle to her. She’d be gentle. She’ll bring him snacks and sit out with him by his humble abode and I’m sure Tousen’ll get some deja vu with the days in which he sat with a young newly made Third Seat Gin, though as he’s said in canon about children, unlike her father, Keiko would be a pure soul.

          Speaking of souls and purity, I also have a headcanon that since Rangiku was canonly a Soul King piece host, and Tokinada's clan was all about finding those hosts and 'breeding' them etc. etc.  ( that’s a very rough description and I’m still a newbie at this other Bleach content )  in CFYOW ... -- anyways, with all of that said, it's implied that bearing a piece of the Soul King is a genetic-driven “gift” of some sort. Bearing a piece isn't promised, but it's heightened for people with higher reiatsu. So Rangiku's child would have a higher chance of housing a piece of the Soul King due to her genetics and Gin’s combined reiatsu with hers, etc. which is also what's within Aizen's hogyoku -- and it'd make for an interesting moment of, for lack of better wording, 'soul recognition' between her and Aizen and the Soul King / soul piece within the Hogyoku that Aizen harvested from Rangiku. The piece of Rangiku which is within the Hogyoku which Aizen became one with.

          It’d be a very interesting meeting with that subtle factor of understanding linking them together, indeed. If Aizen noticed such a pull, perhaps, then Keiko best be prepared for answering some of his questions, too, and we all know how much of a slippery slope that can become.

          TL;DR ... Keiko has the potential to open a huge can of worms, and she’s going to be grounded for a whole year once Gin finds out.

[petri808]

Underneath the Same Starry Sky

My piece for the @fairytailcharityfanzine 💜 we can now share it, please enjoy!

Nalu Reflective piece that takes place during the one year hiatus, focusing on Natsu’s feeling during his training, and Lucy.

Every single muscle in Natsu’s body ached worse than being electrocuted by one of Laxus’ lightning bolts.  His joints screamed like a banshee if he even thought about moving an inch for the rest of the night and he prayed that come morning’s light he could get up to do it all again.  The training routine he’d carved out for himself was ten times harder than anything he’d ever attempted before, but it’s a necessary evil and one that numbed his mind to the reasons behind its mission.  Tartaros was a wake-up call.  A proverbial slap to the ego that brought the mighty Fairytail guild to its knees.  Sure, they won the battle, but at a substantial cost.

He couldn’t afford to lose like that again.  Not when there were so many things at stake.

But tonight, there’s nothing more he can do except lie on his bedroll staring up at the sky.  If someone attacked him now in such a vulnerable state, they might win.  He doubted it.  Even the locals steered clear of the mountain he’d chosen.  Too afraid of the rumors of a crazy fire wielding man who could shake the very bedrock beneath their feet.  No, tonight it’s just him, Happy, and that sky.  A beautiful expanse of darkened heavens with no clouds to dampen its effects.

Ugh!  Nights like this were the hardest.  Each time he opened his eyes and gazed upon those twinkling stars his partner would drift into his mind and throw it back into chaos.  Lucy…. The golden queen who reigns over the celestial world, adored by her spirits, loved by her friends, and treasured by his truly.  

Everything he did was to protect the ones he loved.  And above all, her.

Just thinking about the attractive blonde sent a strange flutter through his core.  Natsu wasn’t immune to the desires created in any hot-blooded male when seeing such an attractive female.  But she’s different, special, not something treated like arm-candy or tied down by anyone unless of her own choosing.  Besides, he didn’t feel worthy of her attention.  Not yet.  Maybe one day, but not until he could truly safeguard her future, even from his own demons.  Besides, there’s still much to do.  It’s only his second month and already the drain on his mind, body, and soul pushed him to his limits.  But Natsu’s no quitter.  Once he set his heart on something, he would move all of Earthland to see it through.  Things would get easier over time as his body adapts to the training, so until then, no pain, no gain, and a blonde waiting at the end of this goal.

‘I really wish you were here Igneel…. Too many questions I never got the answer to….  Even new ones on things I don’t quite know what to do with.’  Natsu lets out an audible exhale.  ‘I miss you….  It’s like a huge part of me’s gone and I know I’ll never get it back.  Will that empty feeling ever go away?’  His eyes close for a moment as he remembers the pain of watching the fight between Igneel and Acnologia.  He’d held out so much hope that Igneel would win, only to have that faith dashed against the rocks like a ship, wrecking along the shore.  It was at that point, when Natsu felt like the small child again, alone and lost in the forest before Makarov had found and taken him to Fairytail.  He’d promised Igneel to keep growing, to keep looking towards the future, and he will.  He will get stronger!  But such pain and sense of initial loss from his childhood had never fully gone away, just sidetracked once he’d met Lucy.  

Again, with Lucy.  That day in Hargeon was the last time Natsu’d gone off on his own in search of Igneel.  Was that meaningful?  It had to be.  How else could one person, who he’d just met, unconsciously change his course in life if it didn’t have some major significance?  What would Igneel have said about her?  ‘Who am I kidding, he would love Lucy!  I bet he would tease me about her if he were here….  I know she would have liked him too….’  She would never be a replacement for his adoptive dragon father, but… ‘Lucy fills some void.’  A concept he couldn’t deny any longer.  

This training mission was the longest they’d been apart since, well, the day they met.  It’s a little weird, Natsu would admit, and he missed her along with all of his friends.  He wondered what they’re up to.  Are they rebuilding the guild hall right now?  Probably to be even bigger or better than before.  ‘Yeah…. It’s gonna be so nice to see it again!’  He should have stayed to help them rebuild, but this is more important.  ‘So, we don’t lose the next time!’  Did Gray miss their fighting, because he kind of did.  He loved to rile that ice queen up!  ‘I’m sure they’re all doing fine.’

But to take the power left to him by Igneel, he needed to strengthen his reserves and that took time.  He really didn’t understand how long he would be away for.  It could be months or even years; hopefully not the latter.  Mastering this new secret art is his primary focus and he couldn’t go back until he’d attained it.  It was his hidden weapon against his brother and it just needed to be perfect.  

Long blistering days had turned into weeks.  Laborious weeks dragged into months and as each one passed the physical pain had morphed into an emotional toll.  Now five months into his training, Natsu sometimes lost track of time itself, and it was only with Happy’s help that he knew how long he’d been at this.  The cheerleading Exceed made sure they had food or other provisions because the slayer would forget.  Even his hair was now past his shoulder blades, but he tied it back when it got in his way.  

Though it wasn’t all that bad, he’d made a lot of progress and was sure that it wouldn’t be too much longer till he could return home.  So, after another long day and a meal of roasted wild bird, Natsu submerges himself up to his neck in a nearby hot pond.  It was one of the few reasons he’d chosen this semi-isolated location.  The broiling waters were a bit too hot for any normal humans, but for a fire dragon slayer, something perfectly suited to soothe away his aches, and maybe some of his anguish.  Lately a few of Zeref’s parting words, “to kill or let live,” were toying with his mind.  “The one to reach me will be you or END…”  He still didn’t fully understand it.  Igneel also told him not to look at the END book.  But why not?  Who is this END person?!  “And what the hell did Zeref mean by passing to me, an even greater despair?!”  Regardless of not understanding, the message was clear.  Trouble was coming.

The steaming waters were making him sleepy, but he wasn’t ready to let it take him yet.  He just need to hash out these thoughts so he could move on because if he couldn’t, then he wouldn’t be able to focus on his training.  To concentrate the residual power, he needed a clear mind.  A long exhale escapes and Natsu closes his eyes.  Killing wasn’t the Fairytail way, so that wasn’t something Natsu even wanted to consider.  There had to be another solution, but it was difficult to figure out what that could be since he didn’t even know who or what this enemy was.  From the scant information they’d given him, END was the most powerful demon Zeref had ever created, one that not even Igneel could defeat.  That meant END could be his most formidable opponent to date, aside from maybe Acnologia.  

Acnologia…  all the hairs along his arm tingle.  The evil dragon born of a by-gone slayer era, is another problem that needed solving.  How were they supposed to defeat a dragon that other dragons were afraid of?  He remembered the quaking fear that all the slayers and dragons felt when Acnologia showed up.  Everyone’s panic and trembling emotions were palpable.  That vile creature had disappeared once more, but he’ll no doubt, show up at the worst time.  “Argh!”  Another beautiful part of being in the middle of nowhere, Natsu could scream all he wanted to.  He relaxes his eyelids, letting the feeling of the steam envelop his senses.  

Words unspoken passed between them as he hung his head whilst the tears flowed, and snot dripped.  Lucy held on tight, her arms wrapped around his middle, her face buried in the crook of his back like she’d done the night they’d defeated future Rogue.  Despite his promises to Igneel, Natsu’s heart had shattered and needed to fit back together like a jigsaw puzzle.  He was thankful that Lucy didn’t prod, just allowed him to feel, to process, like she just knew he would come out of this.  Her silent support meant so much to him, and she didn’t even know it.  

“Can we just go home?” he whispers under his breath.  “I’m tired.”

Lucy nods and moves to let go, but Natsu places his hand on her arm.  “To your apartment, just for tonight?  I’d… rather not be alone right now.”

“Sure, Natsu.”  

It was one of the rare occasions that Lucy didn’t kick him out of bed.  Maybe she was too tired.  After a shower, Natsu crawls under the covers.  Her calming scent of strawberry cream providing him some satisfaction, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone, and reminded him he still had a lot to live for.  And as his eyes close, the vision of her sleeping form, so peaceful, sends him off into a dreamless, yet fitful slumber.  

When light filtered through his closed lids the following morning, Natsu opens them to a fully awakened mind despite the pitiful amount of sleep he’d gained.  Through the night, Lucy had latched onto his side, keeping him pinned to his back.  She sighs, mumbling at his minute movements, before licking her lips and drifting away again clutched to his arm.  He exhales, turning to his side to gaze upon her better.  ‘Lucy…’ Natsu sweeps away some tendrils that had fallen over her eyes.  ‘How am I to protect her when I couldn’t even save my father?  How can I protect any of my friends from the dangers coming call?’  It wasn’t a matter of if he could, but a must.  He places a kiss upon her slightly furrowed brow.  ‘I promise you Lucy.  I swear on Igneel I will protect you at any cost!’      

Even though he’d decided that morning to leave on a training quest, he just couldn’t tell her, not in person knowing the pain it might stir back up for both of them.  All he could hope for a week later when he clutched the letter in his hand, that she would understand.  “Wait for me,” he whispers as he places the letter on her coffee table…    

Natsu opens his eyes.  Ugh, why was he dreaming about that now?  He twists his body in the steaming waters to rest his head on his arms on the edge.  How long had he fallen asleep for?  Couldn’t have been long since the position of the moon had only shifted slightly.  Maybe he was feeling a little guilty for leaving that letter the way he had.  It was a copout.  ‘Yeah…’ he sighs, ‘she deserved better from me, but I just couldn’t face her.’  Too late now to do anything about it.

It was almost over; he runs his hand over the new tattoo on his arm, reminiscing about the last 8 months.  All the power condensed in his body thrummed like a child excited to play with their new toy.  But it would have to wait and lay dormant for now.  Until the time was right, behind the symbols it shall remain.  This whole journey was one of self-recovery, through down-right struggles of the heart and mind.  So, unleashing the full power of the Fire Dragon King too early would be a waste of all that he’d fought to attain.  And that was okay, for through this self-discovery Natsu had become a lot stronger.  The control over his element was down to pinpoint accuracy, and whether as a stream of fire or as a conflagration, it was all by his manipulation.  He was giddy about showing this off and according to Happy, the perfect opportunity was coming up in just two months.  All the more reason for him to buckle down and finish his training.          

Lucy had hoped some of her friends would attend the games, even just to watch but no one did.  It was sad to think, ‘I’ve been looking this entire year…’ she breaks down against the wall filled with all the information she’d dug up on her ex-guildmates.  She knew where some were, while others…  Sigh, ‘Still nothing on Natsu.’  There’d been wild rumors that could be him.  Nothing concrete and they were always stories passed along from a friend of a friend.  But it was enough to comfort her sometimes, to know they were still under the same starry skies.  Ugh!  Lucy missed them all so much.  “Well, no point in crying about it tonight,” she laments to Plue.  Tomorrow was the finals, and she needed her sleep.  Lucy steals away to her bed and lets happier dreams bring her solace.            

Ten grueling months has passed by, but they’d made it!  The sun had yet to rise, but the pair arrived just in time to see the last day of the Grand Magic Games tournament.  Natsu turns his nose to the wind, scenting from atop a hill overlooking the large city of Crocus. “Happy, I think Lucy is here!”  

“But, why would she be here?” the Exceed queries.  “Could she be here for the games?”

“Probably.  We should look for her as soon as we can!”

“I thought you’re gonna challenge the winners?”

“Oh right,” Natsu smirks, “Imma go kick their asses and you look for her.”

“Aye sir!!”  

Morning’s light came and Lucy already knew it wouldn’t be very exciting.  The games only stirred up more pain from the loss of her friends and Fairytail, so it took a lot of self-motivation just to care.  Sure, there were exciting moments during the tournament but nothing like the year they won.  All the big guilds, their friends, no one took part this year saying it wasn’t worth it without Fairytail to compete against.  Lucy couldn’t blame them.  She takes one last longing glance at her wall and heads out the door.

‘Such a farce…’ Lucy stood there in the press box bored out of her mind.  Sure, Jason was excited after she’d pointed out Scarmiglione’s plan not only to win but to rake it in with the brokers.  Odds of 100 to 1 would pay out handsomely for anyone that bet on their win.  To her it was cheating and a blight on the games.  But no one had even noticed what they were doing.  Sad.  Then again, with none of the more powerful guilds in attendance, she guessed there wasn’t anyone around who could sense their true power levels except for her.  Surprise, surprise, she rolls eyes.  The crowds all jump to their feet when Scarmiglione’s last opponent falls, but Lucy is just happy it’s over.

But what’s this?  A rumbling murmur filters through the crowds.  She and Jason look over and see a heavily cloaked man walking into the arena.  Who is that?  What is this?!  So much power!  The hairs on her neck stand on edge.  “Evacuate the arena….” She cries out, but…  “Eh!”  The power and heat radiating off of the figure is burning her top off!  “Kiyah!”  Her arms frantically wrap around her bust, forgetting all about the danger.  As the smoke clears enough to see, she sees the culprit.  Her eyes widen.  “Natsu?!!!”

Screams of his name bounce around her.  Everyone is excited to see the slayer!

“Long time no see, Lucy!!!”

She turns around to see the flying Exceed.  “Happy?!!  What are you doing here?”

The other participants rush out to challenge Natsu but when his power and heat spikes even higher, they turn tail and run, screaming monster.  How hot does his power get?!  This was a lot stronger than she remembered him to be!  

The Exceed chuckles, “Natsu always tends to overdo things.”

But by then Lucy had stopped paying attention to the chaos going on around her.  The stadium was melting, members of Scarmiglione were out cold on the arena floor.  And all she could do was stare at the man she’d been wanting to see for so long.  It was really him and not a figment of her imagination!  A deluge of emotions floods her mind so quickly that there is no processing any of it.  Happiness, sadness, anger, nothing.  It was simply, in shock.  

With the rest of the challengers running in fear, Natsu finally realizes something.  He looks up and they lock eyes for a moment.  So fired up from his entrance, he’d almost forgotten she was here.  

“Yo!” his grin so wide it covers from ear to ear.  “Been a while, huh?  Lucy!”

Same old Natsu, she sighs, what had she expected?  With a crinkle of her eyes and a softening of her expression.  “How’ve you been?”

[conaionaru]

Moral of the story (Modern Bjorn)

Who knew

Synopsis: As a single father, Bjorn doesn't have much time to move on from his wife Thorunn. When Marjorie Potts stumbles into his life.

Warning: Slowburn, friends to lovers, modern au, Siggy lives, abusive ex

I don't own the gifs.

Unstrapping his little daughter from her car seat, Bjorn made his way to his house. It was new, a gift from his father to have a fresh start. It was closer to Ragnar's new family. Siggy liked being close to her uncles and little cousins.

The five-year-old run after him; her pigtails were bouncing happily as she clutched her stuffed bear in her hands.

Banging caused the two to stop. By the neighbor's house, a car parked on the lawn, ruining the grass. A man stood by the door, trying to get in. But somebody from the inside struggled to keep him out.

"Who is he?" He heard an older lady ask as three grandmas walked by.

"No idea. Never seen him before. The girl lives all alone."

"Maybe an old boyfriend. Mabel. Call the police on him. He is up to no good."

True to their word, the drunken man banged on the door and screamed loudly. "Let go, you, bitch! Fuxking whore, though you could fool me? Moving won't save you, Marjorie!"

Bjorn frowned at the yelling and left his daughter with the three women. He marched to the man just as he managed to rip the door open.

"Stop running!"

"Hey! Let her go."

The man turned around to look at Bjorn stalking towards him. "Don't interrupt. We are in the middle of something."

The redheaded girl used the moment to try and slam the door closed, but the man put his foot in the crack and slammed the door open. The force bashed the girl's head against the wood and collapsing on the ground in pain. She cursed as he raised his arm to hit her, but Bjorn wrapped her arm around his wrist and wrenched him off her.

The flashing lights of the police alerted them that the fight was over. The man ripped himself out of Bjorn's chokehold and pointed an accusing finger at him. The Ragnarsson ignored him and helped the girl up from the ground. "Are you alright? Do you see double?"

"Thanks."

The ginger looked over her shoulder at the yelling men getting restrained by the police. "I will fucking kill you, bitch! How dare you cuff me! Wait till my father hears about this! He will get you all fired! Do you hear me?!"

"Maam." A policewoman called out and walked to Bjorn and his neighbor with a medical kit in her hands. "How about we patch you up, and you can make a statement."

"I can do it here too."

The policewoman nodded and took out a notepad after patching up her head wound. The scratch on her forehead was bleeding a little bit and probably hurt like a bitch. The old ladies carried Siggy to Bjorn, who also had to make a statement. 

During his interview, he heard the girl's conversation with the cops. "He is my ex. Andrew Doyle. D-O-Y-L-E."

"Has he beat you before? Any attacks of any kind? Before or after your break-up."

"During. This is the first time he saw me since we split up. I moved to have a new start."

When all the turmoil slowed, Bjorn was left alone with his daughter and neighbor, who looked at her busted door in disdain. "I know someone who can repair it. I could call him."

The ginger looked back at him and frowned before sighing and nodding. She put her hands in her pockets as she watched the tall, broad man fish his phone out of his pocket while his little daughter runs around him in circles.

She was a cute child with dark brown eyes and strawberry blonde curly hair in two pigtails. Attentive and curious, stealing glances at the strange woman every once in a while. 

"He will come to look at it in two hours."

"Thanks... I don't know your name."

Bjorn chuckled and extended his hand to her. "Bjorn Lothbrok. This is my daughter Siggy. We are new here."

She smiled at him halfheartedly and shrugged, shaking his hand. "Joy Potts. A resident for a month. Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." She turned on her heel to go into her home, but Bjorn called out to her once more.

"You could wait at my house. It would be safer." Joy frowned at his offer and tried to decline, but Siggy run-up to her, smiling. 

"You could play with me! Or do my hair. My Daddy is bad at it."

"I am not." He tried to protest, but Siggy shook her head and looked up at the ginger with puppy dog eyes. 

Fuck me. "Sure."

And so she ended up in a house way too huge for a single father and his little daughter. The guy had five guest bedrooms! If he rented the thing out, he could buy another car instead of the Mercedes parked out front. But the tall blonde seemed like a good guy, you know, for a rich dude. 

Joy subtly looked over his kitchen as he tried to cook something for all of them. The wine bottle on the top shelf seemed old, judging by the lair of dust on it, and very welcoming. "Do you want some? I could open it." 

She shook her head and smiled sheepishly at Bjorn's confused look. "Just trying to seize you up. You know, if I am not in the house of a psychopath." 

He chuckled and pointed at the five-year-old girl painting behind the dinner table. "I have a kid."

"Psychos have sperm too. I am sure attractive ones have some kids. Ted Bundy made on in prison." She shrugged and smirked at his bewildered expression. He invited her into his home, let him bear the consequences. She was way too fucking tired to tip-toe around him.

"Fair point." He shrugged and stirred the sauce in the pot. Joy shook her head at the technique and walked over to him to peer into the pot.

"Does food involve my stay here?" Bjorn nodded and grinned proudly at his creation that...honestly looked poisoned. "I will pass then."

"It doesn't look that bad!"

"Daddy's right! It smells worse!" Siggy called from her spot on the dinner table and run over to Joy and her father to show them her picture. It was a cute scene of her, her father, and many other people with names over them. Some of the letters were backward. But Joy could make out the words "Ubbe" and "Ivar." The last one looked like an angry troll.

"It's not so bad. I am sure it can be saved." With an unsure grin, Joy tasted the pasta sauce. It tasted horrid, so she spent the next two minutes perfecting the disaster enough so it could be edible. 

The dinner was rather quiet; Siggy ate the spaghetti happily, getting the sauce all over her. Bjorn opened the bottle of white wine, so hopefully, the awkward tension would ease. Joy was never really a people person. She liked her privacy and scandals to be her own business. After her relationship with Andrew, she lost all her friends and wasn't that bummed about it. Moving far away is easier when you had no attachments. No need to burn bridges to keep yourself safe when they were all ashes already.

"So... Why did you move here? Usually, people like you don't move into neighborhoods filled with old ladies. Or is that your type?" Maybe the wine wasn't the best decision, but she always made the wrong choices. So no surprise there, let her big mouth insult the guy that gave her shelter and fed her.

Bjorn just chuckled and looked at Siggy's adorable happy face. "I needed a quiet place to raise my daughter. Far away from my teenage brothers and my dad's new wife. And you? What's a girl like you doing here?"

Joy smirked and finished her third glass of red wine. "Escaping mostly."

"From him?"

The smile dropped from her face. Why was she even shocked at the answer? He did save her from Andrew and heard her talk with the cops. "Him and other people. Rumors, knowing eyes, judgment. It was tiring, and I needed an escape. So I thought, where would no one normally want to move? And I came here."

"No one but me, I guess. Or do I not count as normal? A guy like me? What does that even mean, by the way?"

She poured the rest of the bottle into her glass and swirled the liquid around, trying to sort her thoughts. "A guy that came from money, obviously. Otherwise, you couldn't afford a place like this. And you also invited a stranger you just met into your home. What if I was a psychopath that could kill you?"

"We can't both by psychos, can we? What would the odds be?" They both shared a laugh, Siggy asking for seconds right after. Joy couldn't look at the messy face, so she took a napkin and wiped at Siggy's face. 

"Nooo. I want to be messy. It's like make-up. It will make me pretty." Siggy whined while Joy and Bjorn laughed at her. 

"It doesn't match your skin tone, honey." Joy joked and threw the dirty napkin away. The doorbell rang right after, so Bjorn went to open the door. The man that walked in after him, was tall and lanky. 

He was the one that was supposed to fix the door. So Floki, Bjorn, Siggy, and Joy went to her home to look at the damage. The ginger led them into her living room, where Floki spread his tools and went to hang down the door. She would need a new lock and some damage control, but it would be working within the hour. 

Siggy looked around the room and then settled on the couch to watch TV. After asking Joy to do something with her hair, of course. Bjorn used the moment to look around. Despite her living here longer than him, Joy's house was impersonal. Just easily decorated to pack up faster if needed. 

The Lothbrok understood that she was probably on the run from Andrew, but the house looked so empty. No photos or anything to show that someone actually lived here. One thing that caught his attention were dog tags on the wall. "They were my dad's. Marine."

"My brother wanted to enlist, but our Dad talked him out of it. Said Ubbe wouldn't handle the violence and blood full time. Ivar still holds it over him until now." Bjorn snorted in amusement, causing Joy to laugh too. 

"Annoying little shit, brother? Know what that's like."

"Brothers?"

Joy rolled her eyes and looked at him, resting her chin against the back of the beige couch. "Two. One older, one younger. Annoying, overprotective, and a nightmare to live with as a teenage girl."

"Well, there are 13 years between me and Ubbe, who's the oldest. Bringing girls home was very hard when a little boy is following you like a lost puppy." 

Joy snorted and grinned at Bjorn's confused look. "Boohoo. Poor Bjorn couldn't get it on. My brothers threatened my first boy friend, not even dating, just project partners. The guy couldn't even walk in the same hall as me. My youngest brother banged pots outside my door after I came home from a party for the first time."

"My dad used to blast Queen right next to my ear. Sat there and laughed at my misery when he found me hugging the toilet. I still think he has blackmail material from that time."

Laughing at their pasts was so easy. As if they had known each other for years. It has been a long time since Bjorn could spend time with someone that wasn't family or work-related. "So the door is fixed. It looks like nothing ever happened."

Floki giggled while walking in. Joy jumped up to pay him, but the tall stranger stopped her. "Anything for a friend of Bjorn."

"We aren't exactly-"

"Thank you, Floki. Say hi to Helga and Angrboða for me!" Bjorn cut her off and led the men out, saying something about a playdate between their girls.

Floki looked the tall man over and grinned. "You know, you could bring Siggy tomorrow and ask the girl out. You aren't really subtle."

"I don't like Joy like that. I know her for a few hours."

"Never stop you before, Big Bear." The younger male mock glared at Floki, who just snickered and left.

When he walked back into the room, Joy and Siggy played a card game, and his daughter's hair was in two braids. "Strange fellow, isn't he?"

He shrugged and went to help Siggy win. "Known him since birth. He is my parent's friend since they were all my age. His wife and daughter are sweet, though."

After the game, Bjorn took Siggy to leave, the little girl hugging Joy as a goodbye. He looked at them and sighed. "I wanted to ask you... Would you like to go out for a drink? As neighbors and new friends, nothing serious."

Joy smirked at his stammering and nodded. "Are you going to ask the old ladies out too? I would like to see that."

"Oh yes, I have a knitting lesson planned out with each one." They laughed again and parted ways.

Joy stood there, dreading what would come during the "date." She was in no mood for a relationship so soon after Andrew. Especially after today. But if he really wants to just be friends, then fine. If he ends up in the friend zone, that's on him. 

So the next day, she spent minimal time on her make-up and clothes. If he wants to be friends, he should get used to her looking like a gremlin. But she better ease him into it; we don't want him to get a heart attack so young, do we?

Sitting at the bar and waiting for him felt weird. Joy felt desperate and ridiculous in her jeans and leather jacket. She felt like everyone kept staring, and every laugh felt like it was meant to be about her. 

 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh

The song on the stereo made her feel old. It was released in the 2000s when she was a kid. She listened to that song constantly when it came up on the radio and sang along. Now the young people in the bar looked at the stereo in confusion, unfamiliar to the hit. 

"But he doesn't know who I am. And he doesn't give a damn about me." Bjorn sang from behind her, grinning at her shocked expression.

"You sing fine, but your timing's shit." Joy teased as he sat down and ordered a whiskey like her.

"I was held up, spilled something over my shirt, and had to change. But I am here." He grinned at her and froze. What were they supposed to talk about now? The weather? Sports? Since when was he so bad at this?!

Joy looked at him with curious eyes and sighed. "I just want to remind you, no feelings."

"That won't be hard." Bjorn shook his head; Joy raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Am I that ugly?"

"More like I am too busy with Siggy. And I guess you aren't ready either. Moving on from her mom is... hard. I would rather like a friend that doesn't want to see me naked or something from me other than company."

Joy smiled at nodded. "Good. I am not the best adept for that, but your funeral."

"Why do you think that?"

Telling him about her severe self-hate problems and antisocial lifestyle wasn't an option. So she decided to go another route. "Just saying that how we met isn't the best friendship set up. You don't usually see that in movies."

Bjorn shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Well, this isn't a movie. Or do you see hidden cameras here, huh?"

"You got me there, Lothbrok. So tell me, neighbor... Where are you from?"

"My Dad lives in Kattegat, Mom, and sister in Hedeby. I lived in between and with Dad at the end. What about you?"

Joy played with a strand of her hair, bobbing her head to the end of "teenage dirtbag." 

How does she know who I am?

And why does she give a damn about me?

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby

Come with me Friday, don't say maybe

I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you

She looked down into her glass and smiled nostalgically. "We moved from Topeka, Kansas, to Oslo when Mom was pregnant with my big brother. Lived there ever since. So when the shit with Andrew was over, I moved here to Copenhagen. I figured big city, fewer people to know me. But I wanted a quieter neighborhood, so here I am."

"What about work? Do you work here in the city?" 

"Right now, nowhere. I used to bartend before, but right now, I do occasional work. Watching kids, cleaning houses, I tried gardening once. It ended badly."

"So that's why your lawn looks shitty." 

Joy gasped and hit the giggling Bjorn on the shoulder. "What's your job? Profesional asshole? Is that just part-time?"

"A hobby, really. I worked in my dad's company with Ubbe but didn't have time for Siggy. So now I am a personal trainer. So if you want to learn how to beat people up, tell me." She smiled at the invitation and clanged glasses with him.

"To a nice friendship between two idiots." 

"Skol!"

[crimsondelphi]

( tristin mays, 27, cis female, she/her/hers, april 13th ) Was that DELPHINE DESCHAMPS ? I heard a rumor they work for the FAUST family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit RESENTFUL & DESTRUCTIVE, but I also heard they can be RESOURCEFUL & VENTURSOME. You’ll usually find them at THE DEN in their spare time, when they’re not being the OWNER OF TONY’S GUNS & SPORTING GOODS/CARCANOS. You may want to keep an eye on that one !

guess who’s back? back again? it’s me! baz! and i’m so sorry lmfao. delphi is a brand spankin’ new muse, so bear with while i flesh her out! and i could ramble for days, so i’m going to try to not do that and just hit y’all with the facts so !!! here we goooooo!

pinterest. stats. someday a wanted connections page will be up, but today is not that day.

quick facts

full name: delphine odette deschamps. nicknames: del or delphi. anything else gets you shot. hometown: new orleans, louisiana. family: raimond & celeste deschamps - deceased, paternal uncle - deceased, an unknown half sibling - living. zodiac: aries sun, capricorn moon, sagittarius rising.  sexuality: pansexual. education: community college in new york - unfinished associates in arts. two year tattoo artist apprenticeship completed. 

that good ish ( death/murder mention tw, general spooky tw, violence tw, guns/weapons tw. )

born and raised in new orleans, delphine was raised on bourbon street. her father was a jazz musician and her mother owned and ran a voodoo shop.

her mother actively practiced voodoo while she was growing up, but stopped shortly after her parents’ deaths.

because of their unique lifestyles, del was the definition of street rat. she was well known within the community and almost every shop keeper and street musician kept an eye on her for her parents. she was v much raised by the community and she loved it. 

despite the turn her life would later take, delphine has only happy memories of her childhood. her parents, unconventional as they were, filled her life with nothing but love and adventure. 

( death/murder tw ) at the age of 13, both of delphine’s parents were killed on their way home from one of her father’s gigs.

it was later discovered that he’d developed a gambling addiction and it’s assumed that they were targeted for that reason. the case has never officially been closed and is considered a cold case. 

after the death’s of her parents, del became a ward of the state and bounced from foster home to foster home until her only blood relative was found.

( violence & gun/weapon tw ) a paternal uncle in new york that delphine had only met a handful of times was now her full time guardian and oh boY. 

shady was this man’s middle name. he owned a furniture company that operated as a front for his arms dealing operation. 

also v openly violent - got into a lot of fights and hid exactly none of it from delphine. 

not shockingly, mans had zero clue how to raise a teenager so kid gloves were nonexistent and a v impressionable and grieving delphine was thrust into a life of violence and crime that quickly became her new normal. 

del had always been smart and, because her uncle wasn’t super stellar at the healthy parenting thing, she quickly picked up on the family business and anything and everything involving firearms and weapons. 

ofc this meant her uncle was thrilled ( bc he’d be able to use her ) and that positive reinforcement was all she needed to dive head first into anything she thought would earn her that same positive reinforcement.

spoiler alert: none of those things were good. all bad. v bad. but delphine is a pro at figuring out what people want/expect from her and using it to her advantage. aka living with her uncle brought out literally the worst side of her and amplified it.

as soon as delphine was old enough to legally start working for the furniture store, she did. that meant she also got a closer look at the arms dealing her uncle was doing. by the time she graduated high school, delphi was her uncle’s right hand in the family business - helping him make major decisions and aiding in making new and more lucrative deals.

delphine did enroll in a local community college, where she studied art history for about a year before dropping out. during that time, she also started apprenticing at a local tattoo shop, mostly for fun and a way to take a break from the violence and guns of it all. even after she dropped out of college, del continued and finished her apprenticeship, continuing to tattoo part time until she moved to chicago.

( death/violence tw ) during a gun trade gone bad, delphine’s uncle was killed. to say she was devastated was an unbelievable understatement. as toxic as their relationship may have been, her uncle was the last of her biological family that delphine had. losing him felt like a finality she wasn’t ready to accept and, honestly, probably never really has.

it was 6 months before delphine was back to normal and, in that time, her uncle’s arms business had descended into chaos. as much as she dreaded staying in new york a second longer than she needed to, delphine couldn’t let that be her uncle’s legacy. so, del stuck around long enough to get the business back up and running with more competent and willing people running it. 

it was during that time that she encountered the faust family. after that, she learned everything she could about the family and their operations running out of chicago. at that point, her mind was made up.

as soon as she was able, delphine packed her meager belongings and moved to chicago with the intentions of joining the fausts. 

for the past two-ish years, delphine has worked her ass off to get to where she is now and she is thriving. dysfunctional as they may be, del considers the fausts her family, despite her gruff, prickly demeanor. she’s putting down roots, hopefully for the last time, but it is chicago, so who knows.

personality

okay okay, so del is 100% grumpy cat ( rip ). the rbf is strong and she takes exactly zero shit from anyone ( unless you’re her boss. she’s a v selective people pleaser? don’t ask me, i just work here ). she’s sarcastic and rude and generally an asshole even if she does like you. the only difference between how she treats people she likes and people she doesn’t is she threatens the people she likes with violence slightly less frequently.

possible connections

lord help us all - i’m the worst as these but !!! 

all the faust connections. pls and thank. bonus points if you get her even a little squishy. idk if it’s possible but let’s try. it’ll be a fun game.

employees at tony’s, pls and thank.

sparring buds! pls let her kick someone’s ass the reg. she needs to let out her aggression.

den buddies! has she been betting on fights? mayhaps. gimmie some friendly ( can she do friendly idk we’ll find out ) rivalry.

past hook-ups/flings. del is not someone who does serious, so she’s probably got a string of one night stands and fwbs all over the place. she’s a unabashed hoe and she ain’t sorry.

uuuuhhh, and literally anything else??? i’m open to absolutely everything always, so pls don’t be afraid to chuck any and all ideas my way!

[purplecatghostposts]

guess what, it's another free ramble pass! same stuff applies, just talk about whatever you want for as much as you want, and doesn't have to be limited to one topic!

You’re a life saver let’s GO

Okay so today I’m gonna go off the deep end and talk about some OCs and a personal project that I think about a lot so let’s talk about Haakon and Nesta, a couple of deities.

These two come from a world known as Cordtritos (Which if you’re curious, comes from the Latin words ‘Contritos Corde’ meaning ‘Broken Hearted’ or ‘Heart Broken’). Deities are often in charge of one central thing and a couple of smaller things that go with it. That being said, Haakon is the God of Destruction, along with Darkness, Power, and later is considered the God of Demons. Nesta on the other hand, is the Deity of Creation, along with Light, Knowledge, and later Angels as well.

You would think with titles like Creation and Destruction that they would’ve created Cordtritos but that’s not the case. They did not create the world, but rather, the world created them. Both of them were born into the world with little idea of the power they held and only had each other. Despite not having actual parents, Haakon and Nesta became siblings in every sense of the word and from that point on, always had each other’s backs.

I’m not going to go too deep into the background surrounding how those two realized they weren’t like other mortal beings and eventually came to be deities because that’s a whole other can of worms but eventually, the pair of them realized they had a lot more power than anything else that walked the planet. They learned their abilities over the century that followed but it wasn’t truly put to the test until war came. Or more accurately, wars.

As the moral beings of the world began to create cities and kingdoms, they began to fight as well. As unfortunate and terrible as war and conflict is, it does tend to break out between countries are at odds for resources and land. The biggest problem however was that they never stopped. Even after one country won a war, they would just end up getting into another- and this happened globally. Those who didn’t want to fight were dragged into alliances that would eventually break apart and peace was scarce to come by. Haakon and Nesta couldn’t find a reason for it and it was severely damaging the world. So, eventually the pair summoned their strength and took matters into their own hands.

Even with their powers, singlehandedly trying to stop the fighting or tip the scales of war on one side so that it could end seemed impossible so they created their own armies.

Nesta, who came to be known as The Diplomat in these times and primarily focused on creating peace between different countries, created the Angels.

Haakon, who came to be known as The Warrior in these times and primarily focused on stopping the wars through tipping the scale, created the Demons.

Neither were initially good or bad but rather, were initially built for different roles to play. However when times got tough, Angels stepped in to join the fight or if needed, Demons would help with the negotiations.

It took a long time but eventually, the wars began to stop and all their effort had finally worked (Not going to go too in detail on how they managed to find the source of the sudden aggression because this is long enough as it is but once it was balanced out, things came to calm down). Haakon and Nesta finally established peace... But not without consequence.

Because somebody always has to loose in a war. Sometimes one side takes the short end of the stick in negotiations. There’s no way to please everybody, and as much as they tried to, there was a sizable amount of people who were not happy with the deities. And for the first time in their lives, Nesta and Haakon were demonized.

Nesta was criticized for being cold, calculating, and uncaring. Only wanting the results and now caring how they got them. It hit them pretty hard because they were never as great with emotions as Haakon and always hated that they weren’t. They tried- they really did! They had plenty of sympathy for people and understood their emotions but comforting people... Wasn’t their specialty. They understood creation and its process and how things worked- they could quite literally create a whole person without too much trouble- but relating and socializing and being vulnerable especially with other people that weren’t their brother? That was something they struggled with. And hearing these accusations going around only struck their deepest, darkest insecurities and hurt.

Haakon on the other hand, was rumored to be far more violent than he let on. A warlord who only wanted power and domination- who killed with a smile on his face- who bathed in the blood of mortals for fun. And he wasn’t bothered at first. Laughed it off because yeah, he had destructive magic and was a monster in battle but he knew himself. He loved socializing with mortals! They lived interesting lives and invented so many cool things! How couldn’t he love them? These rumors didn’t get to Haakon emotionally, but they began to affect his social life. Mortals began to avoid him, were uncomfortable with him, feared him- and that began to take a toll on him. Because he wasn’t violent- honest! But everyone else seemed to think so and that was what began to screw with his self esteem.

But even still, they tried to help the mortal world anyways. Their Angels and Demons were sent out to help in any way that they could in an effort to dispel the rumors and show the people that they were only trying to help, even if they did cause problems for some. Good intentions had to mean something, right?

But you can’t kill an idea.

And it all started to go wrong when they were praised as higher beings to be worshipped and started to get followers. Some of it went well- Haakon and Nesta rewarded their most loyal followers with magical abilities of their own that would be passed down for generations. Those bonds are the bonds that they remembered fondly, but unfortunately being powerful deities means you attract unwanted attention as well. Especially if you happen to be a God of Destruction.

Some who began to worship Haakon thought destruction meant destroying everything. That by committing acts of terror, they were honoring their god rather than disgracing him further. And some joined purely with the intent to destroy in his name simply because they wanted to. Because hurting people was fun for them.

Haakon tried his best to get rid of them or at the very least, try and tell them that they weren’t getting it. Destruction wasn’t about ruining lives- it was meant to be a good thing. Destroying the things that are holding you back from being happy; destroying the socialital norms that are doing more harm than good or simply aren’t needed because the only thing one needs are morals, not norms; destruction in order to create freedom- that was true destruction.

Sometimes Haakon was able to get through to people. Often times, they rejected his message and continued to create hurt for their own amusement.

It was bad but Haakon was trying to handle it. He still believed that he could get through to these people- they were just misguided! Until they did something that would make him snap.

They targeted his sibling.

Even after hundreds of years, Haakon still doesn’t know how they managed to do it. But they lured Nesta into a trap and casted a spell of their own that corrupted Nesta almost to the point where they were too far gone. And as a result, Nesta caused mass destruction in the name of order and creation.

It didn’t just effect Nesta either. The corruption spread to every single Angel as they all ruled under their command and they began to lay siege all over the world. Nesta was so heavily affected that when Haakon tried to reason with them, they attacked him brutally and didn’t hold back. Haakon was forced to fight their own sibling to the point where he had to incapacitate them and lock them away until he could find a cure for the corruption.

Haakon traced it all back to the same group he had been trying so hard to save and he finally snapped. Because he could forgive the tarnish to his own name but not to his sibling’s, and Haakon could never forgive the fact that they forced him to fight them.

Haakon wiped them off the map without blinking twice. He managed to remove the corruption from their siblings mind and from all of their proxies. And when Nesta finally woke up and smelled the ashes, they were deeply heartbroken at the wrath they had inflicted upon the world. Kingdoms turned to ash, thousands dead and thousands more injured or in grief- it was all too much to handle. The guilt made them create a rule for themselves and all future deities that they were to keep out of mortal affairs and keep interaction to a minimum. For the safety of all.

But Haakon hated seeing their sibling in pieces so he decided to change the story and tamper with the mortal world majorly for the last time.

Memories were erased or manipulated to all except the deities. Angels forgot that they destroyed, Demons forgot what side they were on, and the mortals were lead to believe that it was Haakon who went on a rampage, not Nesta.

Haakon covered it up left and right, taking the blame despite their sibling’s protests. And thus, the mortal wrath was placed on Haakon and his Demons, not Nesta.

A massive cover up that Haakon works so hard to keep under wraps. Problem is that there’s a few inaccuracies if you know where to look.

For example, when at full power, Haakon’s eyes turn pure, glowing white. But in some paintings created just after this tragedy that happened centuries ago, the deity in them has pure black eyes, which is the same way Nesta’s eyes look at full power.

But the paintings are just inaccurate or misremembered... Right?

—

Yeah this is literally me just dumping about my made up history for one of my worlds OOPS hopefully this was entertaining in one aspect or another.

I just care them a lot. Two sibling deities trying to make it in the world and who care about each other... I think about them a lot.

[leftenant-sinani]

Tales from Grudgewill - Love of Our Lord  Chapter 3

Third chapter is born, kamaraden, this time it will be a bit shorter. Do not worry, though, the next chapter will be so long, that i will even perhaps make two parts from it. As always, if there are some mistakes, i apologize deeply, but hopefully there wont be any. This time i took a different approach, so i want to warn you that there is mild gore and psychological torture included. Just so you know. It was originally meant to be just a simple short thing, but it got far longer than i expected, so i made it as chapter on its own, and you all at least will get to finally see Watcher in action for the first time. Anyhow, once again, thanks for the support and i also thank these wonderful people, thanks to them, this project is moving forward. I love you all.  @witharsenicsauce @avengercommander @myrddinderwydd @smixcom

Chapter III : An Answer

The Lord was sitting in front of his table, scribbling something on a sheet of paper, it looked like a poet. A very rough poet. Valnin knew that it's bad, he never had that poetic or writer's talent, he was good at talking to people, persuading them or even flirting. But writing? No, it was always very difficult for him to make at least something decent. He wasn't like his brother Anedran, who wrote series of books, not to mention they're pretty popular in Morrowind. He sighed, shifting in the chair to make himself comfortable. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that his parents were okay, since he heard that Vvardenfell wasn't really the safest place at the moment. Rumors about long forgotten Sixth House, The House Dagoth rising and such things. He found it more than worrisome and he really wanted to visit Vvardenfell, but he couldn't just leave his hut unwatched when this village is known to have a little guild of thieves. "Of all villages in Morrowind you could choose, and you chose the one with thieves, Trildyn." He told himself. He looked out of the window for a moment, watching those two moons glittering on the night sky, quietly praying to Azura for his parents to be safe. Once he finished the quiet prayer, he started to focus on the silence. It helped him to calm down, and clear his head of uncomfortable thoughts. He sighed yet again, this time it was a sigh of relief, as he felt somewhat better. He was starting to slowly fall asleep on the chair as it was getting really late for him. So he blew out the candle, took off the upper part of his clothes, and then fell into bed. He covered himself in the sheets, shifting into a comfortable sleeping position, and before he fell asleep, Valnin suddenly felt a familiar cold feeling, like there was someone... or perhaps something with him. It was so intense, that it sent shivers down his spine. He quickly got up, starting to scan the room... there was nothing. He then realized that maybe it was that uncomfortable cold wind. Valnin got to the window, and as he was about to close it, he took another long glance at the moons. It was truly beautiful sight, it was filling him with peace, he could watch it for hours. However, that feeling was shattered when he turned around. Valnin saw a dark figure standing in front of his bed, all he could see on it, was those piercing greenish eyes. It was the Watcher himself. That dark, cold feeling coming from him was filling the whole room. "Do you truly miss this life, I wonder?" The Watcher said. Valnin was just standing frozen on place, not capable of saying a single word. "Do you think that this would be better? Having a job as mercenary, risking your life for coin. And yet, you barely had for living. Is that the life you loved so much?" The Watcher asked him. Valnin wanted to reply, but something was keeping him from talking. "I know what you are about to say. We both know that it would be a lie. You keep forgetting that I can see your every move, hear your every thought, that I can sense your feelings. And right now... right now, you are feeling unsure and scared. You are asking yourself if this all is real." The dark man said in almost trance-like fashion. Valnin just looked into the floor for a while as he realized that this was probably all just a dream.... or was it? If it was, it felt way too real. "I am not going to asnwer any of your questions you have." The Watcher said coldly. He then continued in his speech "Besides one. Once you will get the answer, perhaps you will start appreciate your new life a little bit more.". And once he finished, everything went black.

Valnin tried to slowly open his eyes, but they kept closing on their own. He felt weak, unable to move a single bit, yet he felt like he was being moved. As he regained consciousness, he quickly felt a strong headache, like something heavy had hitted him in his head. He could not see much as he had probably something on his face to prevent him from seeing. However, he overheard two people talking, both had male voices. "... but besides that, are we really sure that it's him we want to kill?" The first man said. "Yes, it is him. According to the description, the target should have Telvanni markings on the body, and this was the only one from the entire village who has them." The second one replied. The first one sighed "Was it really necessary to burn the whole village because of one cursed elf?". "We got paid to do it. Supposed to be message or something. I just hope the rest of our men did not run into any trouble, because i know them far too well." The second one said with slightly worried voice. "Still, why didn't we kill him right away if he is the real target?" The first one asked, most probably concerned judging by the way he talked. "The client said, that he will be the one who will kill him if he will survive the fire, so we are now delivering him." The second man replied. "This is all one big mess. I just hope we got rich payment." The first man sighed yet again. "Trust me that we got paid more than fairly. Once this is done, maybe we should-" Valnin lost his attention as he was fading all over again. He tried to stay awake, but he couldn't really resist, and before he realized it, his eyes closed and everything went black for a while again. Poor Valnin woke up violently as someone has punched him with a great force. Valnin felt how his nose broke, his heart racing, his vision slightly blurred and all he could hear was that uncomfortable humming in his ears. He then looked up on the person who punched him. He did recognize the person, it was another Dunmer he met on one mercenary job. "I assume you do know me, don't you?" The Dark Elf man said. Valnin just slowly nodded. "Good. Because I want my face to be the last thing you will see, you blazed bastard." The man said angrily, and without warning, he punched Valnin yet again. The man had a strength of two Nords, at least it felt like that. The humming was getting stronger, and so was the pain, Valnin just coughed as he wanted to speak "Listen... I am really sorry for what I-" he coughed again, this time it felt almost like someone was kicking him in his stomach, but he continued nevertheless "... for what I did to your brother, but I did not have much choice. I had a job, and he was in my way. He tried to kill me, so I had to defend myself.". That did not have any effect however, as the other Dark Elf continued to glare daggers into him "You being sorry will not bring them back. You just murdered him in cold blood!" he cried. Valnin then realized what Watcher meant with that answer... it was an answer to the question of what would happen if he wouldn't accept his offer that day. But he did not understand it, was it a dream that felt way too real? Or was it alternate reality, and once he get to the end, he will wake up in his castle again? He coughed once more, feeling that horrible pain. "And... what about that village?" Valnin asked. The man just stood there, still frowning "I told them to burn the village, hoping that you would die in fire. I also told them to bring you here if you would survive. At least I can kill you personally if anything.". "And what about those people your mercenaries killed? You made whole village burn for one life. Who is cold-blooded murderer then?" Valnin told him in serious voice. The Dunmer looked at him with an strange expression... something between sadness and anger "I always get what I want, Valnin. I always do. And I do not care if it will kill one person, or half of Morrowind. It is your fault after all, this all could've been prevented, if you did not kill my brother. Those people could've lived right now if you just would choose a different way, Valnin.". Valnin felt that this was one of those people, bloodthirsty fanatics, who wouldn't stop in front of anything just to get their revenge, even if it would kill them. He felt guilty about it all when the other Dunmer said it like that. "So what, you're just going to kill me?" Valnin asked with a bit of desperation in his voice. "What did you expect, Valnin? Do you think that the lives of those people that had to die because of you are enough for me? Wrong. At least it will be a message to those, who will try to cross my path again. That I am not a man to be trifled with. And your death will bring me inner peace." The man said in uptight voice. None of this made sense to Valnin... this person had to be mad or something. Was this dream getting exaggerated? Or was it even a dream? He wasn't sure with anything at the moment, if any of this was real. Maybe the truth was somewhere in the middle, as the pain felt real, but the surrounding did not. He felt like he was going insane... or was he already? Thousands of thoughts was going in his head, it was like a maze his mind couldn't get out of. But before he could think of anything else, he felt how the hand of the other Dunmer grabbed him by the chin. The looked into each other's eyes for a second, and within a matter of second, the man stabbed Valnin's left side of his neck. He wanted to scream out of agony, but all he could do, was mildly choking as blood was slowly coming into his mouth. He felt the end of the blade inside his throat, but that feeling was slowly going away when he started fading out from this hopefuly fictional world. He continued to choke, coughing out his own blood, but the other man didn't have enough, and he finished it by slitting Valnin's entire throat. Valnin's eyes were forced shut as he released his last breath... and everything blacked out for the final time.

The Lord woke up covered in sweat, all he could hear was his heavy breathing and the fast beating of his heart. He quickly roamed his neck with hand, expecting to feel a scar, yet nothing was there, it was without a single scar like nothing has happened at all. He would swear that he still felt it, but it was just an illusion. He tried to calm himself down for good few minutes and when he did, he could not fall asleep anymore as he was scared to death despite the fact it was still a night. "Damn you, Watcher." He said under his breath, even when he knew that he is probably going to regret it sooner or later.

This is the end of the chapter III, and i want to give you a little mind-boggling question... Do you think it was all just very bad nightmare... or perhaps an insane alternate reality?