#i dont even remember what tag i had for the carving

[note-a-bear]

A birb

[goosefeather]

finished riverstar's home which is uhh the first super edition i actually finished since graystripe's vow?? i wanna say??

anway! final review: not enough death!!!

(actual, long review under the cut)

riverstar's home is Good. granted i had no expectations for it and kind of forgot it was a thing until it came out. but for a super edition that most people were like "huh? riverstar? really?" it really knocked it out of the park

and i just really think that the erins had a theme in mind (finding home and what that means to our guy riverstar) and the text actually supports that. and i know, most books do this and it is something we all had to learn in high school english. however, warriors has a thing where the messaging is telling us one thing but the actual text is saying something completely different (think of like... everything to do with bramblestar)

that being said, i liked reading about a young riverstar (yes, my character tag for him is river ripple and i prefer that but y'know riverstar is shorter) and his struggle to find a place in the forest territory. it's actually a really good coming of age story that really resonates with anyone who has like moved out of their hometown and has felt incredibly isolated because of that (like me!)

also as a dotc Enjoyer i really liked seeing the events from riverstar's perspective. unlike uhh the last two super editions where the new viewpoint didn't add anything (or it retconned something to make it worse!) or added in things that were just kinda... bad (still dont like brushpaw), riverstar was just enough of an enigma that it worked. like from gray wing's pov, riverstar is an Established Cat on the river and he plays it well. but in actuality he's just a lonely guy trying desperately to maintain his friendships while trying to carve out some space for himself. it's interesting and fun and even the one eye and slash bits that i didn't care for in dotc were fun to read about from his pov

unfortunately, this is dotc so the last half Drags. like it makes sense, obviously, after riverstar feels settled into his life and home and new role as leader, someone from his past comes back and makes him question all of it. love it, really. the problem is once they leave and make it a journey! idk what it is but the minute these cats start wandering off territory it turns into a snoozefest. tell me one book where a journey to some place was Fun to Read and you cant say TNP cuz we both know it wasnt

also, im so sorry, i know we love women here and we have to cuz the erins don't but i dont like finch. like the most she shows up to help with fighting slash's rogues and riverstar was like "she was feisty!" or whatever i knew it was So Over. im sick of this thing where they introduce a she-cat just for the purpose of giving our main male lead kits. it was bad with gray wing and slate and it's bad with finch. remember when she almost stayed behind? i was hoping so hard that it would stick

and like compare finch and riverstar to say night and riverstar (im not pitting two bad bitches against each other give me a sec). before riverstar leaves to go back to help the park cats, night is nervous, her and riverstar have been through a lot together and they lean on each other. so she's vulnerable with him and he's like "oh im sorry i dont think of you that way??" and she's like "no!!! you idiot!! as a Friend" and yeah it made sense cuz we've seen them grow together in real time. finch got None of that because she is not meant to be a character and it bugs me

however, clear sky came in to save the day and cause problems on purpose at the end so the book ended on a high note (for me)

and uhh yeah, this is already pretty long and i actually have More Shit to say cuz i genuinely did like this book a lot i just wanted to get my thoughts out while they were still rattling around in my brain

god i didnt even talk about how i wanted more cats to die

[introloves]

anon: okay so i just went through (the entirety) of your bokuto tag and lemme just say, boxer! bokuto??? yeah top tier. you just KNOW that every time he wins he wraps that medal round your neck and makes you watch in the mirror as he uses it to choke you and keep your head up and eyes on his while he absolutely rails you. shit after fights you’d look just as bruised as him.

— boxer! bokuto + marking + choking + pain + possessive! bokuto + overstimulation + size kink + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + cream pie + f! reader

— word count; 2k

— boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 2

he’s trembling, high strung with the adrenaline that still hasn’t left him. it’s funny seeing him whine for your attention, someone so big and muscular like him looking absolutely destroyed when you give him a stern look against his kisses.

it’s so very apparent in the way he handles you that hes looking at you to help him come down.

“bo, calm down.” you pant, trying to push his hands away, its a futile attempt to keep his wandering fingers away from your pants. its like he’s magnetized to the waistband of them, digits twitch when you slap them down.

he’s big, strong, a finely tuned machine built for taking hits and giving them back like a bullet but your rejection makes him pout.

there’s a twist of pain in your chest when he gets like this, but he needs to rest.

despite everything, he acts like its just been another day, but it hasn’t even been two hours since his last fight. theres a bruise painting his lip, another one against his brow, red splotches litter his sides and stomach but he shakes your prying hands off thick wrists, fingers hooking into your waistband and pulling them down to your thighs. he looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. waiting for the okay he knows is inevitably going to come.

“fine, but if i see you wince, we’re stopping.” you sigh, smiling at the absolute beam of teeth and curled lips he gives you.

he’s so fast, peeling off every bit of clothing you had worn tonight. he had to have you, needed it like he needed that win.

a win that he already has, now he just needs you.

you cant deny that his excitement isn’t making you wet, he’s like a god above you, vying for your attention and body. he was truly glorious tonight, muscles taut and coiled as he bounced along the white canvas. biceps curled and ready for his opening to land one of his signature right hooks. he takes every hit against his body like it’s nothing, completely unfazed by his opponent. at one point during the match he taunted them, dropping his arms and baring his teeth, just waiting for the fight to truly get good. it makes you squirm, he could be so intimidating, watching like a predator for any opening, any hole in the opponents defense.

your body flushes in memory of watching him land that final hit, he sees the way your thighs squish together. groaning at the thought that your body was responding to his advances, surely knowing by memory how good he fucks you.

your bo always looks so strong and powerful. no matter where he is, whether he’s fighting or when he’s trapping you against those strong arms.

it makes you sigh at the pure determination he’s dripping in, rolling your eyes as he gives you a once over, wiggling his eyebrows at you, torso stretching to reach something from the bedside table, canines flashing as he shows you his newest trophy. its a devious look, proud eyes glinting down at you.

you feel that you can read his mind, about to tell him that, no you won’t fuck him while he’s wearing it, but he lowers it over your head, giving you a bigger smile as the heavy and cold metal lands right between your tits.

“that looks real good on you.” he finally says, abs contracting with the pangs of arousal crawling up his neck. he flinches just a bit at the soreness there, he’s a little more beat up than usual, but hides it well. if there’s anything he needs other than rest, its to fuck you dizzy.

he thinks he might be a total meat head with just how much he likes the image of you wearing something he worked so hard to win, a primal heat licking at the arousal also flaring inside him. you’re really truly his, bokuto can see it in your eyes, regarding him like hes strung the moon up in the sky.

you belong to him, just as he does you. just like that shiny medal you’re wearing.

the bed creaks under his weight when he leans down to kiss you, hand grabbing your face, keeping you right where he wants you. tongue immediately slipping past your lips, pulling a cute whine. he’s sloppy with it, teeth bumping against your own, spit trailing down the corner of both your mouths. when he pulls away, your eyes cross to watch the string of spit connecting the both of you.

he swipes his tongue out and catches it, mumbling something when he sees you reach for him.

“sit back.” you realize he says a little late, snapped out of the haze by the gentle tap of his index finger against your cheek.

koutarou makes a show to peel the rash guard he was wearing under his shorts off. his creamy, muscled thighs finally grace your vision. it makes your body temperature rise several degrees at once, the hot flash only encouraged when you see his dick lying pretty against his thigh. you reach for him, but the advance is stopped by his hands, he doesnt say anything but grips your wrists a little tighter.

your gaze moves from his purpled knuckles up to his eyes, the amber there looks just a tad bit cooler and you immediately know it’s going to be a bad day for you tomorrow.

“want you on your tummy.” bokuto states, and you listen.

waiting for his hands to grip your hips, but he lags just a little. turning your head to look at him you ask if everything’s okay,

“you remember our safe word?” he inquires, and you nod, blanching just a little. his words send a prickle of fear down your spine, you suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed.

“well, what is it?”

bokutos hand comes down to grip your shoulder, huffing against your ear. theres a small pull there, bringing your shoulders back to meet him halfway.

“j-juice.”

he’s right there, waiting for the last syllable to leave your lips, poking the head of his dick against your cunt. it leaves you breathless, smooth, velvet skin leaving a wet trail of precum right on your clit.

it makes you exhale out a high pitched keen, unable to stop it from tumbling out a little louder than expected.

the whine has him purring, humming out a, “good girl.”

there’s nothing in the world that you can compare the way he splits you open. the first stroke is always careful, makes sure youre nice and relaxed, wet enough to take him. you always are of course, how could you not with the way he holds you, pulling you back by your shoulders, making your back bend as much as it can, the twist of your body like that makes for a real tight squeeze, feels like the already limited room inside your cunt is cut back to an absolute zero.

it should hurt, but you’ve taken him enough that hes practically carved the shape of him into your pussy.

he has you nice and compliant under his hands, head thrown back to leave the most fucked out sounds of pure ecstasy rattle through your lungs and into the room.

he can feel the chemistry, something akin to electricity, between the two of you. if he could form into words what its like when you lean agasint him, completely trusting him to take care of you, to make you feel good, he’d fill a book up- and pocket it to reread over and over.

bokuto releases you, letting your shoulders fall forward gently before reaching around and pulling the, now, warm metal from between your body and the bed.

it catches you by surprise when he gives it a tug, the silk cutting into your prominent veins, making you go weak and dizzy.

if you couldn’t think or talk before he was doing this, you definitely weren’t going to be able to while he was.

your hands find the pillows above you for leverage, biting down onto your lip when he begins a brutal pace against your hips. hes pinned you down onto the bed with his mass, not even letting you arch your hips to give him better access to your cunt.

“ghh, kou- kou feels good.” you cry, taking an index finger into your mouth to bite, theres not a spot on your body where you dont feel him, so big above you, you can feel the press of his dick in your throat.

“i know it does puppy.” he grits out, still biting back the pain that each brutal contact against your body brings him. hes got the stamina, the sweat hes broken out thus far isnt too bad, but the position and the way hes taking you- hand still holding onto that precious medal- is taking a toll on him.

he knows he needs to make you cum fast.

and knowing his sweet baby, the way to do that is to rough you up just a bit. it’s real endearing.

the silk burns just a little when he shifts behind you, making sure to keep a good grip on it- you dont connect the dots of what hes preparing to do, not until he pulls back.

you’re mid scream before he cuts you off, tears forming in your eyes against the rasp and wheeze of your breathing. the tension around your throat isnt forceful enough to cut your oxygen off completely, it just leaves you wheezing and gives you a nice haze to your vision.

you’ve tensed up completely, knees locking, hands gripping the pillow above you for dear life.

the reaction from you makes him shake, you can feel the stutter of his hips, hearing the high whine leave his throat, he powers through it. he clashes his teeth together and snarls, blinking back stars when he speeds up.

“c’mon, cum. cum for me, puppy.” bokuto grunts.

its not like you to not listen, as soon as his words leave his mouth, you’re closing your eyes.

you’ve gone limp for a second, and bokuto truly fears that hes overdone it, he drops the grip he has on his trophy, about to stop everything, but then your tremors start.

your legs, still pinned down between his own, shake. he sees your cute little hands slap the pillow and swallows deeply. you’re silent- but he can hear the echoes of moans that want to leave your throat thanks to your open mouth and head that’s thrown back. it takes you two seconds before you seem to flicker back to life,

“ghhhh, hhhh! koutarou, kou!” his name is the first coherent thing that leaves your mouth, and he swears there’s nothing better. he cant compare you to winning a match, knocking out his opponent in a KO- because seeing you like this, hearing you scream his name like that would win every time.

he’d like to comment on how eagerly you’re milking his cock, but the pulsing of your cunt around his fat, big dick does him in.

there’s no time to pull out, wasn’t planning on it anyways, but the squeezing of you againts him, leaking your cum down to the base of him, wetting his pubes with you, also leaves no room for it.

it’s obscene, the squelching sounds of his pistoning, cumming cock, creaming your insides white, all the while pushing it out of your cunt with every thrust.

it splatters against your ass and his thighs, white globs of it stick against the two of you while he rides out the throbbing. there’s nothing more satisfying than filling you up, a deep tingle nipping at the base of his skull when he thinks about his cum kept warm in your cunt.

this is what finally tires him out. the tremor and twitching of his strong arms visible when he reaches down and pulls his limp dick from you, he saves you the pain of his weight crushing against your already fragile body by plopping down beside you, you jump up on the bed with the force of his weight collapsing beside you.

the sticky heat is no match for his eagerness to hold you after it all. you slot against his front easily, almost completely dwarfed by his frame.

“‘re you proud ‘fme.” he slurs against your neck, trapping his thigh between your legs. he shivers when he feels the mess of his own cum smear absolutely everywhere.

your hand comes down to rest over his arms, protectively secured around your torso.

“always. i love you so much.” you whisper back, voice just a tiny bit raspy and sore.

“mm, loveyoumore.”

he’s out before you can count to ten, hearing you say that puts a smile on his face while his breathing evens out behind you.

you take the lightest of touches to the bruises on his knuckles, your koutarou truly was something else. while he sought out your validation, you basked in the glory and security of someone as grand as him holding you tight.

[feral-ella-flynn]

Paying the Toll, pt 2: M Troll x F Human, SFW (for now)

Part 1

Male Troll + Female Human

still SFW (so far)

2.5K/6.5K word draft

tagging @feralprose @monster-bait @apocalypticromantic666 @pre-schoolervengance @bresilienne-ami @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @dont-call-me-a-faerie @kirmalight (comment to be tagged in updates!)

I bet no one expected this to be updated! Including me! This installment is definitely not as long as I intended, because I got really hung up on details--that’s why I’m posting anyway, to get some momentum so that hopefully the third part will be both longer and not so tardy. 

Escaping a goblin raid on your village leads you to a bridge, but you have nothing to offer the troll who guards it for a toll...except yourself

You wake in darkness.  At first you aren't sure you're awake at all--it's only by touching your own eyelids that you can feel sure they're open. It seems to make no difference between the thick, pressing dark around you either way.

“Mattie?” you whisper, your voice thin and hoarse. 

There’s no answer, and understanding comes crashing down on you, like floodwater overwhelming a dam. You are not in your cramped room under the eaves of the big house, Mathilde is not sleeping on the narrow bed an armspan away–if she’s lucky, perhaps she was able to hide in the cellars or the attics, somewhere that was safe enough until the goblin raiders felt they had run out of things to raze and ravish and moved on. Or perhaps help would come, from the regiment billeted outside the market town, or from rangers who might have been near enought to see the smoke. If Mattie was unlucky….

A sob catches in your dry throat, then turns to choking dry heaves that leave you shuddering. Bile burns on your tongue. You huddle into the nest of furs, remembering now where you are and how you came to be here, naked and alone in the pitch black.

Not alone. There is the hush of leather brushing against stone, a faint musky scent. 

“Brúsi?”

“Aye.” The troll’s gravel-rough voice is low and close–you almost reach out, ready to blunder once again into his arms rather than be alone with your fears.

The scrape of flint is loud enough in the silence to make you jump. Sparks illuminate the troll, kneeling at your side, and as he coaxes the tinder to unfurl into flame you hastily wrap a fur around your bare flesh. Whatever mood made you so bold before has been banished by your nightmares.

“Is it morning?”

The troll shrugs. “Near enough.”

“Shall I–shall I make breakfast for you?” Your fingers knead anxiously in the soft nap of the pelt that you clutch closed over your chest. “What do you like for breakfast?”

The troll–Brúsi–glances at you, his head tilted in the way that is already familiar. You think it means he’s just as bewildered by your contract, and by you, as you are yourself.

“Dried goat,” he says. “Morning meal, evening meal. Unless there is a new goat.”

“Oh. Where do the goats come from?”

He shrugs. “The bridge provides.”

Well. You take a deep breath, pushing the fear and panic of the last day, of the dark dreams, down into a tight ball at the bottom of your stomach, where you can ignore it for a little while. “Does the bridge ever provide eggs?”

And so you begin your month as housekeeper to a troll. 

Your clothes are badly stained, and chilly from being spread out on the stone floor, but they're dry and you dress in them anyway, trying to ignore the scrutiny of Brúsi’s dark blue eyes as he watches you. He seems fascinated by the layers as you lace your stays over your shift, tie the strings of your petticoat, and your cheeks burn with a blush as you finally button your gown. You do your best with the tangles in your hair--letting it hide your face until your heart stops thumping in your ears before you twist it into a hasty braid. 

There are no eggs. But you take a lantern the troll indicates and follow him into another cave that serves as a store room.

“There is goat,” he says, pointing at the considerable supply of dried meat, “and other goods, if tha wish them.” His gesture at the heaps of bags, crates, jars, casks, boxes–all jumbled together and shoved to one side–is dismissive, as if there is nothing of value to be found. You stare wide-eyed at a bolt of fine silk, at the glint of gold from a carelessly overturned casket with a broken lid.

“What is all this?”

“Payment for the toll, for when there were no goats.”

“You don’t do anything with the things paid for the toll? They just sit and rot?”

He shrugs. “I butcher the goats.”

You can only shake your head, but the practicality can’t be denied–gold and silk isn’t much use in a cave, and it’s with less wonder but more delight that you find flour, oil, and salt.

Breakfast is fried bread--and goat meat.

Once the meal is prepared and cleaned away, the troll vanishes up the dark tunnel. He takes no lantern with him. He also doesn't say a word to you before he leaves, and you stand in the cave for a while, expecting him to come back with instructions, or–well, something. But he doesn’t, and  you can only twist your hands in the skirt of your gown for so long. Eventually you pick up the lantern and explore. 

There is little enough to see. Other than what you noticed when you arrived, there is an alcove that must be where the troll sleeps, on piled furs that smell musky but not unpleasant. There is the storage cave, although it seems larger than it did at first, because you realize that you can’t see the far wall before the circle of light gives way to darkness.

And then there is the tunnel entrance, where your new employer disappeared, and which presumably leads out, to--your stomach lurches at the memory of being upside down from the sky–the underside of the bridge. But perhaps that had been an illusion, and the tunnel merely led out to an opening in the bank underneath the bridge? You had been half out of your mind with fear, after all. Maybe you dreamed that part.

Maybe…maybe you could simply walk out of this tunnel, out of the dark, and walk all the way home.

Except that you agreed to a contract. And the troll did say he wouldn’t eat you, wouldn’t even touch you, which was more than any of the men at the big house ever promised...none of them had touched you, but you knew that was because you had been careful, so careful, all the time, to be invisible. 

It had helped that Mattie made it easy to fade into the background. She flaunted her pretty curls and winsome dimples, and when she sometimes crept into your shared attic room well after midnight she always had a new length of fine fabric for a dress or a necklace of amber beads to show for it. You asked once if she wasn’t afraid of falling pregnant, but she just shrugged.

“I know to be careful,” she said, and hid the coins she’d gotten for selling her latest bauble away beneath her bed.

Thinking of Mattie makes your eyes sting with tears, and reminds you that probably there was no home to walk back to–and if you tried, there would likely be nothing to be done there except burying the dead. You leave the tunnel entrance alone, and busy yourself with organizing the heaped goods in the storage cave.

When Brúsi returns, he brings you eggs, freshly laid and nested in a straw packed basket. 

“They had no goat." He shrugs. 

Other than struggling to invent new ways of preparing goat meat, most of your time is spent sorting. You find all manner of things in the storage cave, from precious jewels to plain linen fabric. The gems and gold you store in caskets, and then can’t shift on your own–Brúsi laughs at you, and picks them up with one hand, arranging them neatly along one wall as you direct him. You stack bolts of fabric, folding shorter lengths neatly into a another chest, you line up swords with gold wrapped hilts, swords with elaborately carved scabbards, swords that are short, swords that are nearly as long as you are tall, and then there are maces and axes and other things you can’t name. There’s even a pair of pistols in a tooled leather box, their handles gleaming mother of pearl. It’s more treasure than you ever imagined, and you feel that you’re in a dragon’s den instead of a troll’s cave--except that Brúsi shows little interest in the goods, except for the goat meat.

“If you don't have a use for these things, why accept them?” you asked, after the third day of sorting boxes and bundles and barrels, and still not finding the back wall of the cave. You’d found a crown, heavy and lumpy, like something out of an ancient grave, and under it a belt of bronze scales that linked together.

The troll just shrugged. “They are the toll, for the bridge. There must be a toll.”

“Then…" you bite your lip, but blurt "can I use some things?”

“If tha hast a use for them, then mayhap the bridge meant them for tha to use.”

“You make it sound like the bridge is alive,” you murmur, running your fingers over the bolts of fabric, already imagining yourself in a dress made of such soft material.

“The bridge is the bridge,” Brúsi says.

“What does that mean?”

He just shrugs.

You sigh, picking up a bolt of wool–practical, and still finer than anything you’ve ever worn. “If the bridge provides, can I give it a list? I need thread, needles, scissors, buttons…I can’t keep wearing this dress,” you gesture down at yourself. “Not without something else to wear while I wash it, at least, but I can’t make anything without supplies. And for that matter I need soap–”

Brúsi tilts his head. “Tha may always ask the bridge, but it works slowly. Simpler for tha to go to a market.”

You stare at him, your mouth falling open. “I can? I mean, is that allowed? I thought…”

He stares at you, the intense blue of his eyes unblinking, and you finally shrug. “I just thought I couldn’t leave the cave.”

“Not for long, but art not bound to the bridge as I am. Come.” He scoops a handful of coins into a pouch and leads you into the tunnel.

The ground slopes upward under your feet, and after a time there is a door before you, swinging outward. Brúsi ducks under its arch, his broad form filling the opening. When he doesn't move to let you through, you realize that he's blocking the way deliberately. Unease spikes through you.

"Is something wrong?"

"The bridge made tha sick before," he says. “Tha shouldst close thine eyes.” You squint suspiciously up at him–is he laughing at you?–but obey. You hear the rattle of his bone-decorated belt as he steps toward you, but then he stops. “I must touch tha,” he says. “Just to lift tha over the topside.”

“All right,” you whisper. You stifle a gasp as his enormous hands circle your waist, lifting you easily off of your feet, and then after a blur of motion you feel stone under you again.

When you open your eyes, you’re on the narrow stone arch of the bridge.  Your lantern flame becomes suddenly pale compared to the warm sunlight that makes you blink and squint. There is no dark and shadowed forest hemming in the river. Instead there is a road, smooth hard dirt fringed with wildflowers on either side, and the rooftops of a village in the distance.

“Where…” You look down at the bridge under your bare feet. 

“The bridge is all bridges,” Brúsi says. He holds out the leather bag of coins, and you take it, staggering a bit at the weight. “Buy whatever tha need.”

You hesitate, glancing from the troll to the road. What is there to stop you from walking away and never returning, from making a life somewhere? The bag in your hand holds more money than you had ever expected to earn in your life. There would be nothing to hold you to the bridge…except your promise.

“Tha canst not escape the bridge.” Brúsi seems to be reading your thoughts, although he’s not even looking at you. He’s gazing down at the water. “Every bridge tha sets foot on will be this bridge, until the toll is paid.”

“Of course.” The bag of coins drags at your arms, and you fumble it open, taking out a handful. “I should be able to get everything I need with these–it would be dangerous to carry all the rest of this.”

The troll frowns, glancing from you to the distant rooftops. “Danger from other humans?”

“Only if I seem to have more money than I should,” you assure him hastily. “It would get attention from the wrong kind of humans. I'll be careful.”

 The coins bite into your palm as your fingers clench unconsciously. The frown creases his forehead, not smoothed away by your reassurances, and you half expect him to shake his head and pick you up under his arm again, ready to toss you back under the bridge. 

“Please?”

 You bite your lip too late to keep the word in, but there are lazy curls of smoke rising from the distant chimneys, and you can hear the lowing of cattle nearby, the friendly chime of chapel bells...and all you can think about is cheese. Cheese, and fruit to pair it with, or potatos, perhaps. Honeycakes. Your stomach rebels at the very thought of dried goat.

Brúsi jerks his chin toward the road. “Go, then. The bridge will be waiting for tha to return.”

You hand off the sack of coins–your shoulders more than grateful to be relieved of its weight–and the troll adds it to the other oddments that dangle from his belt among the bones. He folds his arms.

The handful of coins you kept are barely enough to make your pocket sag with their weight, but you can feel them as a reassuring lump under your skirts. You run anxious hands over your hair and stained gown, smoothing uselessly at wrinkles. 

“I wish I had been able to bathe properly,” you mutter. “I look like a ragamuffin.”

But your hands and face are clean, your hair neatly tied back, and dusk is not far off, so perhaps your bare feet will not be noticed. You step from the cool stone of the bridge to the warm hardpacked dirt of the road. 

"I'll be back s--" Your voice breaks off as you glance over your shoulder. The bridge behind you is a simple one of wooden logs, straddling a stream that a child could leap across. Gooseflesh prickles the back of your neck. You hurry down the road towards the village without looking back a second time.

[faorism]

#give us sobriety in a series when they really couldnt do it with nate

i know this is a tag about hurley but excuse me that hurts

i don't even like nate but the idea that after his son dies he drinks, and then he builds leverage, he saves 4 people who are not himself, saves countless lives who are not his son. and he carves out a bit of happiness with sophie, but he still is this furnace of rage, this, he's still missing a piece of his heart

and you never get to see him recover, never get to see him live his own redemption, because his grief has killed him before he gets the chance

what i'm trying to say is this tag hurt me anyway what are ur thoughts on nate

[grief, alcoholism, canon character death, end of life illness]

i think about how they had those tall glasses for their whiskey in lr episode 1. they weirded me out, because it's so easy to over pour and (as hardison feels later) drink too much. surely they had to have a shorter glass, right? surely whiskey glasses? but i realized: no, no they dont. sophie has the liquor on hand for herself, when she feels most alone in her grief, to smell and remember the taste she associates with kisses with nate even though itd been two and a half years since nates last drink. (two and a half, not four as it could have been; the tears shed when nate had to give up his two year chip after his first and only relapse was horrendous. as was the weeks of his drunken stupor and the fighting until hurley was able to travel back to boston to help out. nate didn't have a chance to gain that two year chip again.)

i think about their last meal together as a full family—not that anyone knew that'll be what it was then. there was a lot they held back that night: eliot, parker, and hardison continued to avoid the topic of leverage international; and no one mentioned that the old man'd been jaundiced and clammy, even though eliot needed to prepare a separate, lighter meal after nate woke up with an upset stomach. hardison didn't point out the strain in sophie's eyes. yet even with all that they wouldn't say, they joked and laughed for hours like they'd just come off a gloat. 

they thought they had another few years. closer to a decade than not, maybe, with diligence and prayer, albeit with less comfort than preferred towards the end.

who'd expect that it wouldn't be the cirrhosis that did nate in but a heart attack? 

i think about how (gesturing to my characterization in it's a lot) peak nate was a bisexual disaster but mostly just an old mean queen. he brought a lot of snap to the group and a ruthlessness that caught the breath of his friends (and us, the viewers). i think his storyline was darker than the series warranted, but i also cannot see og leverage without it. this deep personal hurt, the kind of hurt that these corporate big bads are always doing; sam couldnt be (attempted to be) saved, and he was lost to the goliath that is greed and bureaucracy. nate broke over that in a way maybe only eliot can really relate to of the crew. nate changed. he changed and he drank and he was once the kind of man who went to chat with the accountants and remembered all their birthdays. now hes a man who can have a plan m.

i think about the peace on his face at the start of season five. the calm of the breeze on his face that is burned into my mind because it was so unusual for nate. i think of how much he must of spend so much of the time on his boat alone and thinking about, of all things, care. the thought of caring wounded him so often, but now, he crafted the world so his crew-and-family could go on, and his crew-and-love could find a new adventure with him.

i think him and sophie travelled the world. i think they met so many cool people and had a lot of fun and nate drank right up until he literally couldnt, and no one is a hopeless cause for sobriety but theres a way i think everyone left nate alone to his drink, and i think that's sad.

i miss nate more than i thought i would, and i love him more than i thought i would.

that's what i think.

[lychee-dragon-cookie]

knight, latte, lotus >:3

ooooooo mk

Knight

First Impression: honestly... not great? just also not awful. I thought he was neat yeah n I liked his trial but I barely gave this boy a second thought tbh

Impression Now: mmmmmmm blorbo from my phonegame<3

Favorite Moment: bro my favorite moment isnt even on CAMERA I dont think. but like. him kicking a dragons ass. you go u lil blonde twunk

Idea For A Story: :)

Unpopular Opinion: knight is good beyond his relationship with princess and honestly not only is seeing them shipped uncomfortable for me but it honestly I feel hed be just as good if they hadn't been explicitly shown as traveling together. hell maybe itd be better, fuck knows. anyhow I'm all for having fun with shipping but if I have to go into his tag to see untagged princessknight imma scream

Favorite Relationship: platonically the obvious answer is pistachio n princess but like. he could play off of so many people so well. I'd love to explore that some more. romantically I absolutely love me some fire/wind/knight it's like a venn diagram of reasonable to dumbass except it could go either way depending on situation

Favorite Headcanon: chronic pain knight has my entire heart I love projecting on this dumbass twunk

Latte

First Impression: prebby lady

Impression Now: wow I love you and I can break you and fix you and potentially confuse and infuriate people with my choices regarding you and you are one of the pillars of my crk team ty miss

Favorite Moment: honestly dont really have one? I dont remember much about the original beacon story

Idea For A Story: a character study maybe? idk it might be fun

Unpopular Opinion: sexualizing her is really fucking weird, and just because she was released with almond doesn't mean you have to ship them. hell that doesn't even just apply to her, just because two cookies are released together doesn't mean you have to ship them. n if you do? tag your shit ffs cough cough lobster mocha

Favorite Relationship: mmmmmm came into my mind ages ago from idek where but. roque latte qpp? hell I might put that in tmtw. almond, latte, madeleine, espresso, roque friendship is good but aspec aro latte talking w roque and joking w them about almond and knowing exactly what's going on w that is so good I love it

Favorite Headcanon: mmmmmm ^that relationship maybe? or like, the companion idea of roque coming back to her apartment in full garb and accidentally waking her up and having to explain anything and latte facepalming at her friend's bs is such a concept. disconnected from that though? latte having gotten her spoon from an old family friend who lived long enough to see her graduate. either they made the spoon or got it somewhere else but it was a present and she visits the grave every saturday at 7 to lay a new bunch of flowers. the tree they allowed her to grow the day of the funeral is still standing strong

Lotus

First Impression: kinda didn't like the lotus hat tbh. other than that, no real opinion other than woah new dragon

Impression Now: *image of lotus on thier trial* *next image is zoomed in to the point where it's nearly all thier face* them

Favorite Moment: hhhhhh honestly pretty much everything I love em

Idea For A Story: maybe something with what I said for the headcanon sdgjfh am I writing these backwards for each cookie? maybe

Unpopular Opinion: dude idek what counts as an unpopular opinion with lotus? idk

Favorite Relationship: I like what we saw of them with lychee! also as a dubiously platonic/romantic/seriously nobody fucking knows? hydrangea

Favorite Headcanon: thier first follower carved thier mandolin and theyve linked it to thier own life so it lasts longer. only reason they didn't do that with the cookie as well was to respect their wishes. that was the first time they felt such solid grief regarding another person and they had real trouble connecting with hydrangea because of that

[trashcatsnark]

OC Info

I was tagged by @shallow-gravy thank you so much for the tag!!!!

Tagging: @enchantedbythebidders, @boyish-fantasy, @catoinette,

Uhhhhhh, I can't remember everyones tumblrs but a few, SO UHHH SILVERV WHORENER FOLKS, IF YOU SEE THIS, CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED

I'll be doing this for my Cyberpunk 2077 OC and my FC5 OC

GENERAL

Name: Aidan Violetta Becker

Alias(es): V (majority of people), Princess (Johnny), Little Merc (Johnny)

Gender: Female

Age: 20

Birthdate: November 12th, 2056

Place of Birth: Seven Devils, North Carolina

Hometown: NA, she was born a nomad, constantly traveling with no real hometown

Spoken Languages: English and ASL

Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Occupation: Mercenary

APPEARANCE

Eye Color: Gray

Hair Color: Naturally brown, dyed blonde

Height: 5’

Scars: Various scars from her life as a nomad and merc work; notably a brand on her wrist, customary from her nomad family. And a scar on her stomach from a forced sterilization procedure.

FAVOURITE

Color: Bright Cyan/Electric Blue, Black, and Burgundy

Hair Color: Despite bleaching her own hair, she's mostly attracted to people with dark hair.

Eye Color: She tends to find brown and green eyes particularly pretty

Song: Pre-Johnny, she didn't really have one, post him... Never Fade Away or Black Dog, he corrupted her taste.

Food: Toasted Marshmallows

Drink: Peach or Sakura Nicola, Mint Spunky Monkey, as far as alcohol goes, she likes cherry cola and bourbon.

HAVE THEY

Passed University: This girl has never seen the inside of a school, so no...

Had Sex: Yes and often

Had Sex in Public: Yes and probably too often

Gotten Pregnant: No, that was taken care of for her against her will.

Kissed a Boy: Many times.

Kissed a Girl: Many more times.

Gotten Tattoos: At the state of her story no, but Johnny takes care of that on his bender. After fix it/net/mikoshi shit, she gets a snake around her ankle that matches the one Johnny has on his hand.

Gotten Piercings: Yes, she has multiple ear piercings (has to be careful they don't catch her hearing aids though), her tongue, her nipples, and her belly button. She also had a lip piercing she let heal over.

Been in Love: When she was younger, she thought she was, but she knows now that's not what that is. Once Johnny slides into the picture... well...

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yeahhhhhh

ARE THEY

A Virgin: Nope

A Cuddler: While sleeping yes, but when she's not sleepy she's more shy about that sort of thing.

A Kisser: Yep

Scared Easily: Nah

Jealous Easily: I wouldn't say easily, but it does happen, and usually its a very sad sort of "I'm not good enough, they dont want me" jealousy.

Trustworthy: For a merc, she's more trust worthy than most... but she's definitely not above lying to get what she needs or wants, nor a few light hearted fibs for jokes.

Dominant: Somewhat, definitely more of a service dominant in terms of sex though, if that's what her partner wants she delivers it.

Submissive: Definitely leans more submissive during sex, especially with Johnny.

In Love: Ask her that and see if you keep your teeth

Single: Yes.... but she is fucking a clingy brainworm...

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

Have They Harmed Themselves: Both intentionally and not, yes.

Have They Thought About Suicide: Yes, numerous times.

Have They Attempted Suicide: Yes

Have They Wanted to Kill Someone: So many times

Have/had a Job: Outside of merc work, not really any like... nine to five kind of jobs

Have Any Fear(s): being controlled/used, being weak/worthless, people seeing her for who she really is.

FAMILY

Siblings: Eira Becker

Parents: Emyr Becker and Aoife Becker (deceased)

Children: None

Significant Other: Johnny Silverhand (eventually)

Pets: Nibbles, her sphinx cat.

GENERAL

Name: Dahlia Josephine Hale

Alias(es): Stray, Rook, Rookie, Probie, The Lamb, Dahl, Hale, Pup, Little Miss Wrath, etc.

Gender: Female

Age: 19-20

Birthdate: November 12th, 2056

Place of Birth: Alden, Louisiana

Hometown: Alden, Louisiana claims Reinette, Louisiana

Spoken Languages: English, little bit of creole French as well

Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Occupation: Junior Deputy

APPEARANCE

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown, nearly black, with some premature graying

Height: 5’

Scars: Various scars from her childhood abuse, including most noticeably a burn on her palm, several lash scars across her back. Across the game events she is given multiple words carved across her skin, including the infamous WRATH across her chest.

FAVOURITE

Color: Bright Red and Black

Hair Color: Dark hair, she guesses...

Eye Color: Green eyes are nice

Song: She loves so much music, its impossible to pick.

Food: Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Drink: Monster Energy drinks, slushies

HAVE THEY

Passed University: No, HS and the police academy, that's all.

Had Sex: No (This changes)

Had Sex in Public: No (this changes)

Gotten Pregnant: No, that would make her child the second coming of Jesus.

Kissed a Boy: No at the start of the fic (John is actually her firs kiss when she does, it is not consensual, damn you John)

Kissed a Girl: No at the start of the fic

Gotten Tattoos: Yes, she has two black bands on one of her biceps and a Sylvia Plath quote on her lower back/hip area (not quite a tramp stamp) the quote is: "And like the cat I have nine times to die."

Gotten Piercings: Multiple ear piercings

Been in Love: No

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yep

ARE THEY

A Virgin: Yes

A Cuddler: Yes... not that she'll admit it

A Kisser: Eventually

Scared Easily: Nah

Jealous Easily: Definitely not, its very rare and when it happens even she's surprised.

Trustworthy: Yes... unless you're a peggie.

Dominant: In personality at times, she can take control and be a leader, during sex when she gets to that point.... definitely not.

Submissive: Once she starts having sex, she definitely leans heavily towards submissive, cause inexperience.

In Love: No...

Single: Yes, no matter what the Seeds say.

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

Have They Harmed Themselves: Yes... at a specific point intentionally so...

Have They Thought About Suicide: Across the game events, yes.

Have They Attempted Suicide: In the game events, at least once.

Have They Wanted to Kill Someone: Once, but she's scared of having to do it...

Have/had a Job: Yes

Have Any Fear(s): being a bad person, that there's something wrong with her, that people will see that she's truly a bad person and leave her or hurt her for it.

FAMILY

Siblings: Genevieve Monroe (half sister)

Parents: Victor Hale (biological father, deceased), Bambi Monroe (mother) and David Monroe (Step-father)

Children: Currently no, but eventually

Significant Other: The Seed Siblings, eventually, yes, she will end up with a whole ass family.

Pets: Boomer, precious boy

[mymp3]

🍓🍰

CIARAAAAA HI CIARAAA HI!!!!!!!!

Another one of the first friends i made on here!!!!

I always thought you were incredibly cool, i remember freaking out when you followed me. You gave me very popular kid vibes, which after meeting you have only gotten bigger.

I was a little scared to dm you at first asking to add you to the gc, but it was one of the best things i probably ever did.

You taught me lots of things i never knew before. Things i know lots of people would consider to be small, but mean and meant the world to me. How to apply makeup, fashion and clothes tips, to really small and silly things like kpop info and Korean words. You tried to answer any little question i had and I'll forever be greatful.

Getting to talk to you, waking up to all those stories and messages. From small to big, they all meant the world to me, they all made me so happy.

You made me feel really comfortable and nice, no matter how silly it was we were talking about. Which is probably just a good indication that you're a wonderful person, no matter what other people think.

You encouraging my art, leaving the sweetest things in the tags, I'll never forget it. I wouldn't probably have even tried streaming if you and Mel didnt try constantly pushing and encouraging me. I'll forever be greatful.

I loved watching twilight, eva, (even though we didnt finish it lmao) and riverdale has been very entertainingly corny. We probably watched all of the dsmp cosplay tiktoks on youtube. No matter how bad or good the things we watched were, they were made millions of times better by the fact you were the one to watch them with me.

Thanks for indulging in the stupid things we did, the rp stuff will always be funny lmao. You playing the first danganronpa and streaming the ending for me to watch was amazing. You buying that junko shirt because of me made my day.

Youve cheered me up when days were bad, even if you didnt know it, you're just such a genuine ray of sunshine. I've got so many good memories of talking with you, even if we havent known each other for long.

Its only fitting that you've made so many new and great friends. You've carved out a community for yourself, and people that care and will defend you. People that will try and help if you did something wrong. You've got a lot of great people by your side now, and that's all because of you, thats all because youre just that good of a person. Im incredibly proud of you.

Even if we dont agree on everything, i know you only have good intentions. You've got a great heart, and so much to share.

There's just no way to put into words how great of a person you are. How much you've made my time on here that much better. Thank you for everything. Love you Ciara

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Three

Link to Masterpost

This has been so much fun, and it’s just going to keep going! As always, I am accepting prompts for this in my ask box.

This addition to the series uses two prompts:

“The salad here is really good.” / “Do I look like a fucking rabbit?” 

and

“Why’d you hug him? You love him?”

 Enjoy!

~*~*~

Aelin grinned and sauntered over to her newest customer a few minutes into her shift. “Good evening,” she purred. “What brings you in tonight?”

Green eyes met hers, completely unamused at her antics. “Considering that you insisted I come in, I think you know very well why I’m here,” Rowan replied.

It was completely true, of course. The previous Sunday, Rowan had kept to his word and helped Aelin get her flat tire fixed. He had also immediately taken her to the nearest grocery store and carefully watched her select fruits and vegetables like a hawk eyeing its prey. Once they had gotten home he had immediately flown into a flurry of meal preparation, and soon Aelin’s entire half of the fridge was full of little glass containers of portioned snacks and meals while Aelin’s roommate was glaring from the counter.

She had mocked him for it endlessly, of course, but truth be told she was immensely grateful. And so she had insisted that he pick a night to come out to the bar, so she could get him a free meal and a drink in thanks. He had picked Friday, and now he was here in the place she spent so much of her week. When they had first started rooming together, and even just two weeks ago, it would’ve been strange and she probably would’ve swapped halves of the bar with Lysandra just to avoid him. Now, though, she felt a strange warmth at seeing him so clearly out of his depth for her sake.

“I’m kind of hoping you’ll trust me on the drink, but is there something in particular you want to eat?” she asked.

“You’re the one who works here,” he retorted. “Surely you have a recommendation, seeing how you chose to eat here most nights rather than just admit you can’t cook to save your own life.”

Where that jab would’ve started a real fight just a few weeks ago, now Aelin just gave him her sweetest smile. “The salad here is really good.”

Rowan lifted a single eyebrow. “Do I look like a rabbit to you?”

“Well, since you seem intent on turning me into a rabbit I thought I would offer,” she said, finally bursting into laughter.

Before Rowan could say anything else, a lilting high tenor sounded behind her. “Is there a problem here, Laena?”

Aelin only laughed harder, nearly doubling over as Rowan’s eyes widened. “Oh, don’t be an ass, you know everything’s fine,” she wheezed.

Beside her, a man with dark curls offered a hand to Rowan, who warily shook it. “I’m Sam,” he explained, “bar manager and old college friend.”

Rowan nodded, gaze flicking back over to Aelin. Laena? he mouthed.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “The nickname is short for Celaena. It was the name on my fake license when we met, and he’s never let me forget it. It helps here, sometimes, if someone’s being a little too pushy. Whoever it is walks out of here without my real name, so I let him get away with it.”

Sam chuckled. “I do what I can. But I’ve embarrassed you enough for now, I think.” And without another word he faded into the bustle of the room, where she knew he would be carefully overseeing the crowd.

“Sorry about that,” Aelin said to Rowan. “If I knew he was going to come over and be an ass, I’d have warned you.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the faint glimmer of a smile. “It’s good that you have someone looking out for you at work,” he replied.

She smiled back and got to work. Together, they decided on a burger she’d had before for his meal. “Do you trust me?” Aelin asked.

“As much as I feel like I’m going to regret this, go ahead,” he sighed.

Aelin grinned and gathered her ingredients, dropping a single cube of sugar into a glass and soaking it with a mix of bitters. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d serve you for a week,” she began. “I won’t lie, it was tempting to serve you straight amaro and nothing else just to watch your face. But all jokes about bitterness aside, I wasn’t going to actually be that mean.”

“I’m eternally grateful,” Rowan deadpanned.

“You should be,” she laughed, reaching for a muddler and crushing the cube down. “But none of the sweeter drinks seemed like you, either. If I had to guess, in your personal life you don’t mix drinks at all, you just drink your spirits straight.”

The guess earned her a nod. “Even that isn’t often, but when I do, you’re right.”

Aelin nodded as well, dropping a sphere of ice into the glass as well and then reaching for the bottle of rye she’d selected. “So I didn’t want to deviate too much from that and give you a glass that was basically full of sugar, but I wanted to take you just a little outside your comfort zone.” Deftly she added the alcohol to the glass and then began to stir. “That left me with a much shorter list. Spirit forward. Classic pairings. Something even a joyless buzzard like you can appreciate.”

The name had started as an insult, Aelin mused as she reached for an orange and deftly carved a strip of its peel away from the fruit. Now, though, it was… almost an endearment. If friends traded endearments, that was.

Rowan’s eyes widened as she reached for a match, expression turning wary. “What exactly are you doing?” he asked.

Aelin grinned. “Helping you live a little,” she said as she struck the match and held the peel to the flame.

The smell of caramelization and warm orange oil reached her nose soon enough, and she blew out the match and set it aside before gently twisting the peel over the top of the now-completed drink and rested it on the rim of the glass. With a smirk, she slid the glass across the bar and watched as her roommate looked it over. “What is this?”

“If I told you, you’d think I was making fun of you,” she laughed. “So we’ll call it a ‘Trust Me, Rowan’ instead.”

The remark earned her another roll of those pine-green eyes, but he obediently lifted the glass, swirling its contents gently and inhaling delicately. “I wouldn’t have thought scorching the orange peel would change its scent so much,” he remarked.

Aelin grinned. “And that’s why I’m behind the bar and you’re in front of it. Go on, try it.”

As she watched, he carefully lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip. She bit her lip, doing her best to wait out his reaction as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Finally he let out a pleased hum, and she could no longer contain her smile. “All right,” he said. “If I admit that I like this, will you tell me what it’s called? Or did you just make it up?”

Aelin tugged on a stray strand of hair as she bit back a laugh. “I didn’t invent this, no,” she said. “It’s been around for a while.”

“And?”

She glanced at him again and finally lost the battle with her mirth, leaning heavily on the bar as she broke into a fit of giggles. “It’s called an old fashioned,” she wheezed as Rowan rolled his eyes and grumbled into his drink.

~*~*~

Rowan left about an hour after that, but Aelin was still laughing about it with Lysandra as they worked to wipe the bar clean after closing. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, and she laughed and turned, tossing her rag into Sam’s face. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble today?” she teased.

“Not quite enough yet,” he grinned. “So why’d you hug him? You love him or something?”

Aelin laughed as she remembered back to Rowan leaving the bar. He’d obviously intended to slip away without calling attention to his departure, but she had noticed him and chased him down to give him a giant hug and a smacking kiss on his cheek. He had growled and immediately gone to wipe his face off, tossing her a glare that once would’ve left her shaking in her boots. Now, though, she had simply laughed and told him it was revenge for him trying to sneak away. “No,” she finally said as she turned her attention back to Sam. “No, that’s my roommate. We’re trying out this new thing where we actually get along.”

“Oh, so this is the roommate from hell we’ve been hearing so much about,” Lysandra chimed in. “You didn’t say he was hot.”

“I feel like that wasn’t relevant to what I was telling you,” Aelin pointed out. “Hot people can be jerks just as much as the rest of us.”

“She says as though the three of us aren’t hot,” Sam laughed.

“He’s got a point,” Lysandra agreed, green eyes bright with mirth as well. “But anyway, we’ve got a mess to clean up here. We can sort out Aelin’s future domestic bliss later.”

Aelin scowled as her two friends laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she cautioned them.

“Ah, but if we don’t, who will?” asked Sam.

“You’re assholes and I hate you both,” Aelin said with no heat in her voice.

“Oh, come on, you love us,” Lysandra grinned. “Sam, what can you do about all three of us having the same day off sometime soon?”

“You know I don’t control the schedule,” he sighed, but his brown eyes were glimmering with amusement. “That said, we all have this coming Sunday off. Why, do you have a plan?”

“I’ve always got a plan,” she replied. “But in this case, I suppose I can extend my plans to include the two of you.”

“This is all well and good,” Aelin drawled, “but at least one of us would like to sleep at some point tonight.”

“You just want to get home to that roommate of yours,” Lysandra retorted.

“Oh, would you—”

Aelin’s words cut off with a yelp. She had been turning to face Lysandra, but suddenly her ankle buckled and she hit the floor with a cry and the sound of something cracking.

~*~*~

If anyone has questions about any of the mixology involved in this, I am of course happy to answer to the best of my ability! I don’t do it professionally, but in this quarantine it has become an... extensive and somewhat expensive hobby. Yikes. Lol.

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows

[agoracactus]

Pt. 9.5 - The Blood Mage

so im here to explain what happened after reader left Geralt, but it gets pretty dark (see warnings), if u dont wanna read it but still wanna know what happened, ill do a family friendly summary at the very end, scroll and look for this ▲△▲△▲△ dividing line

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.4.5 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 4110 - summary excluded

Warnings: besides the standards, blood, gore, indication of sacrificial ritual against children (yes im a monster)

Tag list: @theojuicee @ayamenimthiriel @imthesnowinthedark @distinguishedkryptonitecreator

§

You stood there, watching him disappeared into the woods, cold air wrapping tightly around your body.

Was it getting cold? Or was it your blood drawing away from the surface of your skin, wanted to crawl inside and hide there and never come out?

When you realized it, you were already walking away. Tears blurring your sight, hitched breaths blocking your hearing, you stumbled forward, don’t know where you’re going--- you just wanted to get out, you had to.

You tripped and fell, and you just lay there, panting from the emotion that’s gripping your chest.

How could he say such things? You cared about him so much, yet he returned it with sharp blades of words. Manipulating him? How dare he? You were merely helping, trying to steer him away from the tragic events that would happen to him! Did he ever say ‘thank you’ for your effort of trying? No. He complained. He Accused you for being a ‘jinx’.

You sat up. The darkness had already crept in in between the trees. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, the shock and the sadness faded into anger. You stood up.

Fine, you’re leaving. You don’t need him anyway. You could go back to Yen, she would take you in. You would live a way better life than before- Hell, you don’t even need Yen. You can take care of yourself. You will go on your own adventure and perhaps meet someone better than that stupid, stubborn asshole.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been walking, or where were you walking to. It was dark everywhere, and your human eyes could barely made out anything- probably even less than what you usually could due to your now puffy eyes.

You started to hear the different sound of the night forest, the cracking of the dry twigs, the chirping of what you assumed of the crickets, the rustling of the trees, and perhaps the howling of some wolves far away.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the darkness of the forest.

You tensed up, ready to run if any danger come towards you.

“HELP!”

You heard it loud and clear. You quickly drew out your shotgun, ran to the source of the sound.

It wasn’t hard to locate where you should go, there was a faint glow not so far away in the woods. As you were getting closer, you saw a circle of glyphs giving out a brown-ish red glow, in the center lay a shape that seemed to be a body of a child. Beyond the circle, not too far away, was a ghoul.

“Help me! Help!” Someone up in the tree shouted desperately, seeing you appeared from the dark. You stopped in the circle of glyphs, aimed the shotgun at the ghoul that was growling up at the poor man and pulled the trigger.

The ghoul took a few shot before it went down and stopped moving completely.

“Are you ok?” you poked the dead ghoul with the gun barrel to make sure it’s really dead, and said to the man, “You can come down now, it’s dead.” “Oh thank you kind stranger!” the man swiftly climbed down, he was wearing a cloak with dark stains at the bottom edge. “I would have been dead if not for you, I owe you my life!” “What happened here?” you asked, stepped into the circle once again to check the pulse of the child. You noticed the boy had several cuts on his arms and legs, and a mark of branding on the inside of his wrist that you couldn’t quite make out the design with the dim light from the glyphs.

“...Fascinating...” You heard the man gasped in awe. “Hm?” gotten distracted from inspecting the branding further more, the thought slipped from your mind, “The kid is dead.” you stood up. “Yes yes, poor child. His parents brought him to me for treatments, but the monster showed up. I tried to put up a protection sphere for him but he’s badly wounded...” the man lowered his head with remorse. “You’re a healer?” you stepped out of the circle. The man glanced at your feet and the glyphs, “I’m a worshiper of the arcane, a student in the knowledge of unknown.” he bowed his head slightly, “Sadon Olbrecht, at your service.” “Y/n.” you replied, found yourself having some trouble trusting him, but couldn’t put your finger on it.

“What a lovely name! And what brought you here deep in the woods in such late hours?” “Um, well, I um, lost.” you avoided the eye contact, remembering the reason why you were deep in the woods late at night. “Oh I live near by! You are more than welcome to come stay overnight, and I can show you the way to the highway tomorrow!” he lit a lantern--- that came out of nowhere. “It’s this way!” he lift up the lantern to see better ahead. “...” you took a look back at the direction you assumed you came from--- it’s too dark to tell--- “Sure. Lead the way.”

It didn’t take long before you saw that stone made house. “Here we are!” Sadon picked up the pace, “We don’t have much, but it’s our humble home.” “We?” you glanced at the dark windows. “Yes. Come come!” he quickly pushed open the wooden door. You hesitated, one hand reached back and clutched on the pistol.

You stepped in. It was dark, the smell of decay and dampness rushed into your nostril. “Sadon?” you couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right. You turned, wanted to walk back out.

Then a heavy strike hit you in the back of your head. You fell unconscious.

§

It was cold, dark, humid, stank of dirt and mold.

And blood.

So much blood.

Fresh, not fresh, they all mixed together into a protruding smell.

You were leaning against the cold stone wall, hands chained to the wall, another pair of heavy manacles on your ankles. There’s no window in this room, the only time when you could see anything was when Sadon were in the room, then he would light all the candles--- there were so many candles, black and red. When there’s no light, it’s pitch black. So dark that you often wondered if your eyes were actually opened.

It hurt everywhere, to a point that you couldn’t feel pain anymore. You used to complain so much about even the smallest cut, would wine about your sore back every few minutes. But you stopped thinking about the pain now. Your brain learned to ignore it after a while. You tried to get some sleep, but your body was aching and stiff--- in fact, your brain couldn’t even tell if you’ve slept.

And the noises. The sobbing and crying and moaning from below.

The kids.

You didn’t know who they were, but you know there were several of them. Sadon kept them separated from you, in the camber below. You saw him carrying sacks downstairs a couple of times, took some time before you realized that those were the kids. He probably kidnapped them somewhere, put them to sleep for transportation.

You’re glad that you didn’t know these poor children.

You heard the rustling of the keys, and the squeaking of the metal door. Light poured in from the door at the far side of the chamber, a pair of feet came down the stone stairs.

“Good evening!” he greeted you delightedly and started lighting the candles with the candlestick he brought down. There was a large stone pedestal in the middle of the chamber, few metal hooks sticking out on the sides, with runes carved all around it and it was covered in deep maroon. The runes ran down the pedestal, to the stone floor, and formed a circle.

Sadon finished lighting up the room, set the candlestick down on the side of the pedestal “I really have a good feeling today, perhaps success is near the corner!” You could hear the sincere excitement in his voice, and it only sickened you more.

He took the chain of keys, and unlocked the hatch to the basement. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, hearing the children crying. You saw a little boy being dragged up, manacles chained on his skinny wrists and ankles. The boy was trying all he can to fight, but Sadon as a grown man was way stronger than him. He threw you desperate gazes, but there was nothing you could do. You watched him being dragged to the pedestal, manacles on his wrists hooked to one side and the ankles were hooked to the other side.

Then Sadon brought a dagger and a small goblet to you. He knelt down beside you, took the dagger and cup a deep slit in your upper arm. You turned your head away, gritted your teeth so hard you felt like you were going to shatter your jaw. He caught your blood in the goblet and brought it back to the boy, who was laying on the pedestal, panting in fear.

You shut your eyes, trying to close off all your senses.

§

The pure one.

That’s how Sadon addressed you. How disgusted you were when you heard that.

He said he’s a blood mage. You knew that’s bullshit from the time you’ve spent with the witcher and the sorceress, and the knowledge they fed to you.

Sadon was just a demon worshiper, who was deluded about how he has a connection with the “demon lord”. He told you that he would one day break the barrier between the two worlds and bring his lord to this realm, and together they would bring the world to greatness. And he believed that your blood is the key to his grand plan.

You didn’t even care about the sanity of his mind.

How long have you been in here? How many rituals have you witnessed? How many young lives were perished, tragically and painfully in front of your eyes? The scenes, the sounds, they haunted your dreams. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or the ritual was actually happening.

At first you were so mad, you screamed, you struggled. You tried to fight your way out of this, but you were nothing without your weapons.

You were nothing without your witcher.

You overflew your mind with the witcher.

His voice, his frown, his grunt, his smirk. What was he doing while you were stuck here, suffering? Did his mind ever come across you after you parted ways? Was he worried about you?

Then you banned him out of your mind, kicked the image the sound the phantom warmth of his out of your brain as many times as you needed.

You prayed. Prayed for all these were just a bad dream, prayed that Geralt would be looking and saved you from this hellhole. You cursed, cursed your bad luck, curse your immunity, cursed for you trusting a stranger and take him for his words. Disappointed- desperate about the absence of

Till there’s nothing left for you to do but to wait.

Wait for the final fate to find you.

§

The chamber has grown cold.

You were the one laying face up on the pedestal, staring up at the ceiling. There hanged a rusty chandelier, covered in dust and webs. The thought of it falling and killing you and ruining the ritual flashed through your mind, brought you a slight amusement. You were even more amused at how you were coming up sick jokes when death was staring you right in the face. In fact, you had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Few kids were kneeling on the ground, forming a circle around the pedestal. You couldn’t tell how many of them were there--- you were too weak to turn your head to look--- you guessed that they were probably the last ‘stock’ Sadon had in his little basement. You could hear them sobbing, the silver instruments Sadon made them held were making soft tinkling sound with their shaky hands.

The temperture dropped more. Or maybe it’s you losing blood.

You heard Sadon’s chanting, heard him moving around in his elegant robe. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the eyelids were growing heavy.

You were scared.

Is this it? Are you really going to die? What’s beyond ‘death’? Will you return to your world? Would Geralt miss you, at all?

You were not ready to go. But the darkness was creeping in from the corner of your vision.

A voice crept in as darkness consumed you. It souded like several people talking at the same time, in different pitch, but merged in one.

“What do you wish?”

You found yourself standing--- or perhaps, floating, in this darkness. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“We could give you anything you want.”

You looked around, then you weren’t sure if you were actually looking.

“I want to live.” you found yourself talking, heard your voice coming from all around you.

“Pay the price.” 

The voice echoed in the space.

“I have nothing.”

“Give us what’s most precious to you.”

A dark shape emerged from the dark. You didn’t know how you’re seeing it without light, but the presence was strong. You saw it extended it’s hand, expecting a hand shake.

You closed your eyes, still seeing the darkness.

“Give it.”  “Give it.” “Give it.”

The voice now split into several whispers, coming from different directions.

You saw yourself slowly raising your hand, slowly, reaching that extending arm. Faintly, you heard your voice, telling you to stop, to think this over, to be smart.

A face flashed into your mind, the pair of eyes that would usually filled with warmth were painted in cold bitterness.

You held onto the arm.

A burning sensation burst out on the inside of your forearm. A shape was glowing, and eating your flesh away. You screamed.

The whispers ceased.

“You are ours now.”

§

The darkness faded. You were on your bare feet, panting. Most of the candles were out, the only ones still burning were the ones on the pedestal behind you.

Your saw your shadow casting on the ground, and drew up to the wall, swaying, with the low burn candlelight. The thick substance that’s covering the ground, glistening with the flickering light. You tried to move your feet, but your foot kicked something.

An arm. Children’s.

You slowly glanced around, eyes barely made out the scattering pieces of what you assumed, human body. The smell of gradually decaying flesh filled your nostril, your brain slowly started working.

What happened?

You saw Sadon, half of his head were by the wall, expression frozen on absolute horror.

The metal door screaked. You turned, and saw two figures standing at the top of the stairs. In their eyes, were those horror? Shock? Perhaps wonder?

You didn’t get to find out. In a flash, the smaller figure of the two rushed towards you. And before you could react, a blunt hit in the back of your head. You were back into darkness again.

▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲the family friendly dividing line▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲

Summary

You left Geralt after the fight when the night was falling. Frustrated and disappointed at what happened, you got lost.

Deep in the woods, you came upon a man who named Sadon, he was being attacked by a ghoul, after killing the ghoul, he offered somewhere safe to stay for the night in return. He attacked you and knocked you out after arriving at his stone made house.

It turned out that he was a demon worshiper, and claimed to be a blood mage. He made sacrifices of children who he kidnapped at the nearby village to pay tribute to his dark lord. He believes that the rituals he’s doing granted him power, and one day he would be powerful enough to summon the demon king to this realm, and together they would rule the world. And when you saved him in the woods, he found out that magic doesn’t take effect on you. He believed that you were the key he needed for his grand scheme. So he kidnapped you, and was waiting for the right time for his final ritual.

Sadon wasn’t wrong. Your blood was desired by the demons, as it could grant them power. The ritual was successful, just wasn’t as expected by Sadon. You made a deal with the demons, giving them your memory in exchange of immense power.

You woke up and found yourself standing, around you were Sadon and all the children who met a horrible death. Helvi’tar and Eyle opened the door to the basement of death, found you in complete confusion.

Then Eyle knocked you out.

[in-tua-deep]

tua s1 rewatch with my roommate

episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):

I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!

Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit

“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”

“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus

“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”

I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound

Episode two:

HERR CARLSON

Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO

Five: you got anything stronger

Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????

The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it

Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg

Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.

Forgot how much I love Agnes

(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)

Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling

Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books

Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks

“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”

Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.

I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen

Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?

Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps

Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her

Aww the tow truck driver :(

I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else

Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF

Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD

Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”

Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization

Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~

ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo

Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”

Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep

OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(

Episode 3:

my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair

okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”

“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm

i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,

a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling

“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five

“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego

i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing

“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody

“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya

five having flashbacks in the car :(

did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”

five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego

“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat

luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(

“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not

sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted

“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something

“hashtag android rights” 

“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”

is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ???? 

wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up

“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit

forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets

okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh

“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus

where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????

“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”

“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther

“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at

what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego

aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song

“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them

how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh

why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY

forgot about that

is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances

diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES

you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh

[vanillacoolatta]

pls explain the lore of the smp to me bc I’m lost abt it and I wanna learn more 😪 - Moomoo (also I feel like I never send you asks, so hi!! Take care of yourself. I hope you had a good day. Love you~)

bb there is. So Much. i guess i should start from the beginning?

long post ahead eek (not tagging bc keep reading added)

in the beginning there were three players: me, @/oasisofgalaxies (nebula), and @/its-ethan-bro (who we will refer to as “e” for sake of continuity lol). we were messing around in a small discord server in which i basically begged ppl to play mc with me for weeks with no response except from neb to play pixelmon ojihfydtr

eventually in october this happened

and we elected to call it hallmark smp because of the server name

...after a heated debate...

and we just kinda. played survival for a few days.

^^^ the end of the first day

-

after e and neb logged off the first day, i....didn’t. when we started we spawned on an island seemingly in the middle of nowhere. the only mobs to be found were a single pink sheep and a pig. we all declared the pink sheep “god” until i jokingly called the pig my “god” and decided to secede from hallmark. when they logged off, i stayed on and built the island which would later become monument island.

over the course of the evening, after declaring the pig my god, i found more than five ravines in a row and got a potato from a zombie drop. this is when i decided to take the joke further and announced that the pig i had honored must have “the spirit of technoblade” and that he had “blessed me with a potato” -- and so I named my new island/not-nation the “territories of blade” [e later decided that the god of hallmark was dream but i think these jokes died quick other than a few quips on signs]. aka i was joking but after everyone logged off i stayed on for 11.5 hours and farmed potatoes all night and morning :| /srs

after that it was seemingly slow going; i built the monument on Hallmark Island but decided my home island was too small and moved to the one that now has a bridge from Monument. i then moved the monument from Hallmark Island to its new resting place. i then built the old, giant cobble mob spawner and farmed xp and mined for a while to become Quickly OP lol

I then moved to Spruce Island (the taiga one) where i carved out a “bunker” and built a tree covering the entrance. This was never found (to my knowledge) until I revealed it publicly by leaving it open, but it doesn’t rly matter anyway bc I never did anything except dig a giant hole lol. it is important to note that up until now i still had never built a house.

during this time, e built the lighthouse on Hallmark and Neb their house.

 the next people to join were @/i-maybe-exist (v) and @/ayyitsmelody. at this point we had 6 islands: Hallmark Island, Spruce Island to the northeast, Monument Island, the one with the mob farm (lol), CB Island (the one connected to monument via bridge), and Oak Island to the south. V and Melody moved to Oak Island. then somethin abt llamas idk /lh

it was around this time that I built the first draft of Empyrean City. It was comprised of multiple flat platforms of dark oak, spruce, and birch. It had a full farm/tree farm and I attempted to make an automated cobble gen but never finished it lol. I was the only one to live there for a while, since we had barely any players yet, but it took me a while to build a house. I never even did - I ended up making a watchtower from wood and stone instead. 

then Nebula was exiled from Hallmark.

LONG long story short but I built a courthouse, we elected V as judge because they seemed most impartial, and we went to trial. Neb was accused of killing the OG pink sheep, E’s god, and was found guilty - and exiled.

I’m sure we all knew ooc what was happening because at this point my character had been made out to be a pretty bad guy, but in-character -- I was basically playing all sides so I would come out on top lol

c!e and c!void had all but declared war on each other at this point and neb still was part of the nation of hallmark. this was a problem for void, as even though they still had better equipment than anyone, they didn’t believe they could win in a 1v1. 

so void rigged the trial.

i will be telling the rest from their perspective bc i have no idea how it seemed to everyone else lol

they convinced v that neb’s life was in danger if neb stayed in hallmark but that neb was too afraid to leave. they tried to convince e that neb was going to betray them, at which they succeeded at first by getting e to think xey wanted neb exiled, but eventually failed. not that it mattered. finally, they convinced neb that, as the jury, they would do their hardest to convince v to declare them not guilty. LOL

neb was exiled from their home and, in an attempt to stay on their good side, void offered them residence in [Old] Empyrean. neb accepted, but temporarily.

next was @/im-still-a-robot (many names but i usually call them ro or floam; whose characters are ro and mars). they moved to spruce island where they would later build Fox Village (the one with the giant flag outside).

after that was @/chaos-creature1 (whom i call crea) and @/fishhberries. crea made a base that just happens to be on the island we would later discover is at coords 0,0 which is convenient for her i suppose lol. fish moved to spruce island between Fox Village and Empyrean.

somewhere in here neb and void fought over something i dont remember. and then neb went to form the Starlands. void apologized and asked to join the starlands, of which they were allowed, and i built the giant tree in the dark oak forest behind fox village. neb did most of the interior design tho bc at that point i had like 0 practice and was failing horribly ijohgyct

i will rb with more bc this is getting vv long and i must collect my thoughtshs

[anotherbeingsworld]

New Beginnings.

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Louiza Day - Sam Day (daughter))

Prompt: A final Goodbye for the final day of @julychoiceschallenge

Book: Mother of the year.

A/N: Hi, sooo I have a new fic today! It is my submission to the final day of the @julychoiceschallenge . This is my first time writing for Mother of the Year and, I hope I did it justice! I was terrified on posting this, but.. I am feeling awfully brave right now. I apologize for any grammar mistakes, since English wasnt my first language! I hope all of you enjoy it, and .. dont worry, Bryce will come back very very soon! 😉 Enjoy!

PS - I dont the characters except the storyline.

Warning: *minor* mentions of death. Death of a side character.

Tags: @baltersome , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @fantasyoverreality98 , @jaxsmutsuo , @aylamwrites @choicesficwriterscreations , @julychoiceschallenge (I DONT KNOW WHO TO TAG since its not a Bryce fic! But, comment down if you want to be tagged in future fics!!💛)

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10 years ago, both the lives of Thomas and Luz Mendez were changed by the news of  Soledad's death. The police knocked on their door, at midnight as Thomas was finishing up his work whilst Luz was in bed sleeping happily after the day she had. As the news dropped on every news channel, realization hits him like a brick, it was real. He had lost the love of his life, and Luz lost her mother.

Ten years later, at the exact same day. Both Thomas and Luz were never ready to face this day. Each year has been a challenge, as the pain of her sudden farewell was still felt by both of them. But, now… both of them are ready to move on from the pain. Their lives were changed once again by the arrival of Louiza Day and her beautiful daughter, Sam Day at Bernhardt Academy. Their existence in the Mendez's life gave a new meaning for both Thomas and Luz.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Luz loves her mother, as they would spend lots of time together before she passed. She remembers the little moments with her, as she would always give the best hugs especially when she was sad. The memory of Soledad singing her favorite song before she goes to bed, or the moments where she and Luz to cook with her at their very own kitchen. Those memories hold a special place in her heart, but… today, the memory stood out even more; as somehow her face was much more clearer as every little thing that she saw in the house, everything brought back to her.

Growing up, she would never think someone would take her place. But, Louiza came through and showed that she adored both herself and Thomas in the way no one could. Louiza made Thomas happy, and the smile on her father's face made her realize; her dad is making the right choice. Luz being sisters with Sam was a bonus, as they are best friends for life and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Luz glanced at her bedside table, as there were two frames. One of them was a picture of Soledad and Thomas hugging her years ago, as the smile that was displayed was bigger than anything in the world. And, a few inches away, a new frame where it was a memory of a hiking day with Louiza and Sam. A picture of them reaching the top of the hill, after a long day of hiking. Luz smiles at both of the frames. Her life was changed when Soledad left, and it was changed once more when Louiza and Sam came.

She puts on her favorite dress, as she wore a cardigan over it. There was a knock on the door, as she heard a voice.

'Luz honey, let's go. We are leaving soon.' The voice said from the other side of the door, as Luz gets herself ready.

'Yes, mom! I'm coming.' She replied as she took a bouquet of Daisies that she bought with Sam the day before, as she leaves the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Thomas is getting himself ready in the other room, as he wore a tux; the same one he wore at her funeral years ago. He never stopped thinking about her, or what might have been if Soledad was still alive. There were plans made for both of them, as it was almost their anniversary when the accident happened. Ten years ago, his life had changed and, he felt lost. He always depends on Soledad, since she was considered as an alpha parent herself. The first few years without her is tough, he had to learn to be strong for Luz.

The arrival of one Louiza Day and her daughter, Sam into his life took him by surprise. He has sworn, the first moment at the bookstore, it was the first time he felt butterflies. It felt like being in high school once again discovering our first love. Louiza has her own charm and wits that he adores. But, above all she was there for him during his hardest moments. She would be there as she held him in her arms a few years ago, this day. She was brave on standing up to what's true, and the way she held her head up during the custody battle for Sam and working side jobs for the sake of her daughter, he admired her. He didn't realize he had fallen deep for her, as they were dancing in the living room to Frank Sinatra, she wasn't very much of a dancer, but… she was the best partner one could ever ask for. And, from that moment; he knew she was the one.

The fear that comes through with the feelings making his mind torn into a million pieces. He feared that Soledad wouldn't be happy with his decisions, he feared that he would be selfish to put his feelings first. He was afraid if Luz wouldn't accept his decision on moving on. But…one day, waking up in his bed, he wanted to be selfish for once, because he knows Soledad would want him to be happy. And, from that day on; he took his chance and, he didn't regret a thing. He gives in to his feelings because he wanted too.

He adjusts the lapels of his suit, as he heard footsteps coming from the door. He glances at the figure, as she walks towards him. She walks slowly, as she held onto the small bump that was shown through the dress.

'Are you ready?' She said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

'With you, always.' He replied softly as they kissed.

They heard noises coming from the door once more, as Luz, Sam, and James are standing there giggling as they let out gagging noises which made them both chuckle. Thomas and Louiza walked out of the room, as he carries little James, their first child together in his arms whilst Luz and Sam held Louiza's hands. They left the house, as they started their small journey together.

The drive was short, as Thomas would felt a pang of sadness this time of the year. But, glancing at the passenger seat, he realizes he was not alone. He had a family who is going to be there for him when he felt down. Louiza squeezes his free hand, as she held it giving him the comfort through the short drive.

It was almost six in the evening, as they arrived at their destination. The scenery was beautiful, as the skies were clear and the atmosphere was calm. A beautiful day indeed. Thomas turns off the engine, as he took a deep breath steadying himself. He had done this several times, but it never failed to make him nervous.

'Its gonna be alright dad.' Luz said softly as she squeezes his shoulder from the backseat.

'We got you dad, right mom?' Sam said as she scoots forward placing a hand above Luz's.

Louiza nodded, as Thomas started to feel at ease. They finally exit the car and made their way through the Goldcliffe Cemetary. Luz and Sam were walking hand-in-hand, whilst James is in Thomas's arms, while Louiza follows beside him, with hands secured on her belly which is growing every day. It was their second child, as their family is growing every day.

The walk was short, as they finally arrived at Soledad's tombstone. It was near a large tree, as the leaves from the tree slowly falls from the wind. Thomas kneeled as Luz and Sam followed. They cleaned up the area, it has been their routine for the past ten years. After everything was done, Luz places the Daisies on top of it, as Sam held her hand the whole time.

'Hey mom, it's us! We all decided to came by today, and…we miss you. Dad and I missed you so so much, I hope you are doing amazing wherever you are. I told Sam and Louiza all of our stories and they enjoyed every part of it especially the ones where you burned the chili whilst making dinner! They loved you too, and little James also is giving you all the hugs as you would always give me. I love you, and I can't wait to see you again.' Luz stops herself before getting too emotional, as she clings onto Sam for support.

Thomas kneels, as he places his hand on the carvings on her name.

'We miss you so much love, I hope you are flying high wherever you are, never stop being your beautiful self and, know that I will always love you. Just like in our vows, 'We will always going to be together and nothing is gonna tear us apart.' and I will cherish your memory wherever I go, as you have taught me everything from being a father and, to being a great man. Thank you for everything love.' Thomas whispered slowly, as he stood up from the stone. The sun is about to set, as the skies transformed into various colors. It was a pinch of pink, and a combination of orange in the blend too.

Louiza places a kiss on his cheek, as the tears were in her eyes also. She never knew Soledad, but the stories she had lived to hear, she knew that Soledad was an amazing human being who had lived her life full of love and happiness.

The skies were beautiful, as Luz smiled happily at the sight of it. Thomas too, a wide smile on his face, knowing that he is finally ready to let go, especially the pain. Luz and Thomas hugged each other as it was somehow felt like a sign to them that Soledad was in a much better place and she was in peace.  Louiza and Sam including little James stood by them both, as the day couldn't have ended any other way.

They finally said their final goodbye to the pain, as they are ready to move forward knowing Soledad is happily watching them wherever she is now.

Thomas glances into Louiza's eyes, as it softens.

'I love you.' He stated as he held her in his arms. She was about to reply, before Sam and Luz beat her to it.

'WE LOVE YOU TOO!' All of them said at the same time, pulling Thomas into a bear hug, his very own family.

Sometimes, the point of letting go is the chance to allow ourselves to have closure once more. Standing there, at the beautiful land as they said their final farewells to the past, moving on into the future. Luz and Thomas were ready to face the future, knowing that the past is always going to be there to guide them forward onto a new beginning or perhaps, a new edition to their very own family.

THE END.

A/N #2: Hii, I hope all of you enjoy it!!! This has been a fun write and it hits really hard at home, but.. I hope all of you loved it! Dont forget to like, reblog and comment, it means a lot. 💛 Thank you for reading - A

[yeojaa]

ERIN I DONT WANT TO PUT TOO MUCH ON YOUR PLATE BUT I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING AND MUSIC TASTE SOOO ∞ but if you have too many asks pls disregard i won't mind!!

❪  💜  RUN BTS :  ❫  fun and games !

[ read called a thousand times ]

pairing.  ksj x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  angst.  sort of.  idk.  wc.  0.3k.  author note.  noor bearrrrrrr.  you’re so cute i cry.  this was weird and garbage but C’EST LA VIE I SUPPOSE!!!

May I ask you how you've been Would I have the words to say I've forgotten how to feel How to call you by your name

                  -  May I Ask - Luke Chiang, Alexis Kim

He’d thought three years would be enough time.  To move on from a love he’d almost felt like he’d imagined, to find something else to focus on.  

It had to be, right? 

(Wrong.)

Three years is nothing - not even enough time for him to forget the sound of your voice, your laughter, your sighs.  It does nothing to dull the memories, remove the bits of you from his dreams.  

He still remembers how you sleep, curled on your side, head held right over his heart.  (Somehow, you’d never numbed his arm - fitting so perfectly in the space he’d carved for you.)  He remembers how you look in his tee shirts - the only things you’d ever sleep in, treating his closet as your own each time you were over - and how you smell - floral and soft and with just the faintest hint of coconut.  He remembers the softness of your body, how you’d run hot in the night and kick off all the blankets. 

Maybe it’s unfair of him to do this, to ring you up with the hope you’ll answer.  Maybe he should’ve deleted your number, erased it from his phone (and his thoughts) but even then, he doesn’t think it would’ve made a difference.

He still remembers all seven digits, dials them with pure muscle memory.

When you answer with your dust-covered tongue - a soft hello? - it feels like the beginning all over again.  He thinks he’ll be okay though.  If he’s careful.  If he doesn’t get caught up in the sound of your breathing.  If he reminds himself of the reason he’d left. 

“Hi.  It’s Jin.”

Remember, he tells himself, not quite sure what he’s meant to remember.  Not you.  Wait— only you?  

He doesn’t have time to think.  Doesn’t have time to run through that last time again.  You say his name and he’s a goner.

[bondsmagii]

I mean to ask this genuinely, no hostility, but can you explain how you correlate scp to being in a cult? I dont disagree, I just cant articulate the reasoning as to why I dont disagree, and would like to see where youre coming from with this. Also, could you tag it with cults or cult discussion or something similar, please? Thanks! Have a good day.

OK [cracks knuckles] I will try and keep this as short as possible, but you have to understand I’ve been observing the wiki in the wild literally since its inception, so there is a lot of stuff to consider. anyway let’s buckle up.

[EDIT: after finishing, this is obnoxiously long. sorry. I encourage people to read it though, because yikes.]

I base this theory on a set of guidelines set out for spotting if an organisation might be a cult. generally cults are religiously based; obviously this does not apply here. as far as I’m aware, nobody sees the SCP wiki as a religion (yet). because of this a couple of the points regarding spotting a cult are irrelevant (they concern things like separation from the Church which obviously doesn’t apply) but nearly all of the others (even some religious ones) can apply if we provide context. so without further ado:

Signs You’re In A Cult and How the SCP Wiki Literally Fits Into All of Them

let’s start with the most obvious:

opposing critical thinking

something that has long pissed me off about the SCP wiki has been its complete inability to think critically. staff will literally ban people for criticising them, and the parameters of “criticism” have only grown wider and wider over the years. anything that is the “party line” is sacred; nothing can be improved upon because it’s already perfect, and Staff Knows Best. any policy changes are law, and any dissenting voices are silenced – even among younger staff members (length of service wise, not age wise). I have seen staff put on probation or demoted for arguing against pointless or pedantic policy changes; I have seen people of all levels banned for arguing with staff. if this doesn’t happen right away, arguing with staff over their decisions will absolutely get a target on your back, and they will find a way to ban or demote you as soon as they can.

any criticism on the wiki is frowned upon unless it comes from the Major Staff Members – these are people at the top of the hierarchy who can do no wrong, and as you can imagine, they’ve done some shit. staff has always had a problem with elitism, bullying, and even abusive behaviour (blah blah blah #NotAllStaff, but the ratio is quite concerning) and any criticism of their behaviour or even pointing this fact out is dangerous if you want to remain on the wiki. hell, I know many people who are aware of this who don’t speak up because they’re genuinely scared of retaliation. a lot of staff are really nasty people, and because of this attitude they are beyond criticism.

isolating members and penalising them for leaving

the penalising them for leaving part isn’t strictly accurate, because as far as I know, nobody has ever been bullied or threatened into staying on the wiki. however, I do remember a while back (2011/2012-ish) when the Foundation RP community began to show up on Tumblr, and the wiki began to get a fanbase that wasn’t contained on the site itself. staff were not happy about this and to this day they still constantly try and get a monopoly on all off-site locations. they have an official Offsite Outreach Team (yes, that’s its real name) who “reach out” to communities on other platforms (YouTube, Reddit, Tumblr, etc) and set up an Official Presence there, and then they encourage everyone to use the Official Presence rather than the fan-made ones (which are often more established and better/more consistently run). there have been several off-site spats between staff and the fandom, because they arrive demanding the authority and respect they have on the wiki and get Big Mad when they don’t get it. just recently one (now ex) staff member, djkaktus, went absolutely primal on Reddit and banned a whole bunch of the community for daring to say that they didn’t like the new LGBT logo for pride month (many of these people were LGBT themselves and felt as though it was pandering/putting targets on their backs); several more years ago (2014, I believe?) I myself had a run in with the Outreach Team and it was one fucking hell of a headache that ended in a malicious smear campaign against me, so like. yeah.

as for isolating members, they do this via elitism. the above is an example of it (making everyone feel a sense of obligation or loyalty to the Official Presence), but a huge part of it has always been the elitist attitude prevalent on the wiki. the SCP wiki has high standards for writing (allegedly… I’ve seen some garbage on there tbh, same as any other website) and it uses this to bully and demean its users. criticism of writing is overly harsh but highly encouraged; anyone complaining that it was too cruel (which it often is) is ridiculed for being too sensitive. (staff have been working on this for years, but really nothing has changed; people have just gotten more between-the-lines about it.) this encourages a kind of desperation among new users to “rise up the ranks” and earn respect so they can be the ones dishing out the criticism instead; they will do so and then immediately act in accordance to their status, bullying others how they were bullied and sticking to their own “rank”. brief interruption: staff and bootlickers if you’re reading this and thinking of reblogging to defend yourself, the code word is yeet. if I do not see the word yeet in your reply I will know you have not read this thoroughly and tell me why I should then bother reading anything you have to say.staff themselves is incredibly removed and closed off from the rest of the community; they have a bunch of private chat rooms they hang out in, and inter-dating is common. they don’t tend to interact much outside the flock, and are the definition of cliquey. joining this rank is supposed to be an achievement, but really it’s probably the most dangerous place to be. I have seen so many staff members have literal, clinical mental breakdowns over the strain and treatment they suffer.

(there’s nowhere to neatly slot this in, so: I don’t know how many people have noticed this, but SCP fans, when you spot them on other platforms, are snooty. not casual fans, but those involved with the wiki? I can spot them from a mile away, because whenever the Foundation is mentioned, there they are, acting like they’re part of some cool club. some of these people are innocent (they’re just mimicking the behaviour of other members) but some of them really do seem to think that their site is somehow better than whatever site they’re on, and it’s really creepy to see.)

emphasising special doctrines outside of scripture

obviously this is religion-specific, but with context it can fit. if we take scripture to mean SCP lore, and special doctrines to mean differing headcanons, ideas, writing styles, etc… oh boy.

there’s something that’s often said on the wiki: there is no canon. buddy, there is. yes, you can write whatever you want technically, and you can disregard headcanons you don’t like and you can build on different things and theoretically people can just ignore your shit if they don’t like it, but that is not what happens. there is absolutely a canon, and deviating from it will get you downvoted into oblivion and even personally attacked. people will accuse you of the most ridiculous shit, like desecrating the wiki or betraying the universe or whatever. so where does the emphasising part of this come in?

why, it’s simple! if one of these special doctrines (headcanons or whatever) comes from staff or an Approved Member, it’s fine. go nuts. even if it’s something that anybody else would be absolutely slaughtered for, it’s fine if staff approves. there is no creative freedom on that wiki, and anyone attempting to carve a piece out for themselves will suffer for it. one of my close friends still gets hate for an SCP he wrote featuring heavy headcanons and building on existing lore about a well-known character, and some of this hate is because he didn’t set the fucking article out “how it should be”. 

seeking inappropriate loyalty to their leaders

oh boy. staff are god on that website. they’ll deny it, but they know it’s true. many of them are arrogant and, in my opinion, some of them are pathologically narcissistic. they think they are hot shit, and they encourage people on the site to believe the same. a huge majority of users on the wiki are high school students, so 15-18 years old. the next huge group are college-aged, so 19-22 or so. several staff members are in their mid-20s up to 30s, maybe even coming 40s or early 40s now. when you’re in your mid-20s, it’s very easy to look cool to a 15-year-old. it’s very easy to look at a young userbase and convince them that you’re hot shit, and that’s what staff do. they act like it; most users respond to it, and if anyone dissents? see point one.

staff have always had double standards. from the very beginning of staff, they have gotten away with a lot more than the average user. staff have been allowed to bully, ridicule, harass, dismiss, shit upon, and target people with reckless abandon, usually only meeting punishment when other staff members feel too inconvenienced by them. a lot of the time when they’re punished, it’s a lot lighter than it would have been for an average user (a month ban rather than a permaban, for example). this is seen as almost a point of hilarity for a lot of people, who think it’s cool and just a right you get when you’re staff. you know best, you’ve seen some shit – who can blame you for slamdunking a 15-year-old’s first SCP?

the amount of respect and adoration these people demand is ridiculous, and anybody daring to criticise them ends up on a shitlist. staff show up in other areas (Tumblr or Reddit) and expect that same amount of respect, even among people outside of the wiki who might just be casual fans. they act a lot more important than they are, and demand that everyone treats them appropriately. I’ve seen staff members throw shitfits because they didn’t get enough upvotes for their articles, and many staff members’ quality of work declines when they make staff, simply because they know that they’ll get easy upvotes as soon as people realise it’s a staff member who wrote it. downvotes are enough to get you put on a shitlist. 

publicly, their word is law. you are not allowed to debate with them in the forums if they put a “stop” on the topic; the same applies in the IRC chat. if staff says “stop”, you will be punished if you mention it again. you are allowed to discuss it with them privately, but I think that’s rather insidious, as staff have been known to twist facts and withhold information before. this gives them a public persona of always being right – and something else that cults do is silence dissenting voices so nobody who might agree can see other people saying the same things and feel encouraged/emboldened. 

crossing Biblical boundaries of behaviour

again, we’ll need to contextualise this. if Biblical boundaries are things like sins and all the stuff the Bible says Do Not Do, then in this context these are the wiki rules. staff (and their friends) will constantly cross the rules, as previously mentioned, and they will get away with it.

the wiki rules say “don’t be a dick”. I have caught staff bullying people countless times, and no doubt there’s more I haven’t caught. even out in the open, staff are argumentative, dismissive, rude, intimidating, and oftentimes plain nasty. the wiki rules say “don’t coldpost articles; get feedback”. staff is just out there throwing their shit onto the wiki and expecting an avalanche of upvotes in five minutes Or Else. policies are made that set parameters and staff changes them whenever convenient – for example, the long-standing rule that things that occur off-site are not the responsibility of the Disciplinary Committee (yes, its name.). unless, of course, it’s someone they don’t like. a major staff member bullies somebody on Tumblr? “sorry, it was offsite, not our problem”. someone staff doesn’t like gets into a brief spat on Reddit? banned for harassment. 

there are countless examples of this, from small things to major things like bullying, harassment, and even abuse (or enabling of abuse). staff will punish people for transgressions and then turn a blind eye to a fellow staff member committing a transgression that was ten times worse. they have even protected rapists and sexual predators in the past – another kind of behaviour common in cults, because that’s what happens when you combine narcissism and entitlement with total authority.

that’s the main bulk of it

but now the context has been established, here are a few more concerning things I’ve noticed (quickfire now):

cults shit on former members

and the wiki does the same. any staff member that’s grown fed up of the groupthink and the cliquey attitude and how nasty people are or who has been mistreated by staff themselves; any regular user who feels the same and vocally quits? shat upon. lauded as a bastion of whatever is wrong with the wiki. declared an Enemy and rallied against. it is so creepy.

cults use Us vs Them mentality, especially in language

broad declarations establishing a community and a community spirit in the face of adversity are common in cults. appeals to emotion and loyalty are used in a very manipulative way. catastrophising and fearmongering is common, too. I’m seeing this in how the recent drama with the legal issues is being handled. broad appeals to “defend the wiki”, hashtags being encouraged, emotional speeches from staff about how it’s a make or break situation… 

…and this is being reflected in the absolutely insane comments people are responding with.

this is a fucking writing website. the above is not a normal reaction at all.

the attitudes of regular users quickly grow concerning

people very quickly get obsessed with the wiki and it defines their lives. they seem to feel as though they owe something to it or they need to serve some kind of a purpose; many people try and “get the word out” and become voluntary spokespeople. they go around practically preaching, and I do not see the users of any other website doing this.

cults want full control over how they’re seen by outsiders

and the scp wiki does the same. as mentioned previously, when the fandom grew and spiralled off the wiki to other sites, staff debated for weeks over what to do. brief interruption the second code is shrek is life.they were not comfortable with the idea of the wiki having an independent fandom, and for years now they have been in constant struggle with offsite communities, trying to gain the same amount of control they have over the wiki. it’s impossible to do so thoroughly, and it’s clearly an annoyance for them.

cult leaders will let “lesser” members do their dirty work for them

and guess what staff does? rather than wade in there and get their hands dirty with internet arguments, they’ll sit back and let regular users dogpile on dissenters and say all the things staff shouldn’t be seen to say in public. note how even if this would violate the bullying policies, they’ll just get a warning so long as staff agrees. 

in conclusion

@ everyone on the scp wiki: yall know you’re in a cult, right?

[homestuckexamination]

The format of that description looks to 100% like the real thing :O Did you spend a lot of time making it look as similar as possible, or is it part of a fan adventure or something like that? (Because I would totally want to read it if it was real)

I kinda wrote it on the spot back when I made it! She’s actually repurposed from an older OC of mine that I’m using for other things, so I had a solid idea about how she was already, and simply adapted it to an Alternian setting.

I HAVE considered making a Fanadventure in the past, but noooo way, I don’t have a team of people and it’d be way too much work for a side project X3. I would love to get involved in something big and Homestuck-y, but as a hobby, running four different blogs and doing art keeps me busy enough as is. Most of my OCs are either for Fun, or for planned Fan-Session RPs I’ve had with my friends, so there’s nothing really public around!

Also, I found my documents, so I now remember their Classpects and have all of their descriptions here!

Rhoxym - Seer of Doom

Jamita - Thief of Rage

Your name is JAMITASELKEE.

You think everyoneshould TAKE A STEP BACK and CHILL THE FUCK DOWN. Born as one of the rare JADECASTE, you have no shame in admitting your status as a RUNAWAY, and in fact,REVEL IN IT. You hold a PROFOUND BELIEF that everyone was put on this world fora purpose, and you are OUT TO FIND YOURS. Everything in nature, everything inlife, has a CONNECTION, a MEANING, and the more time you spend searching forthe MISSING PIECES IN YOUR LIFE, the more you have come to notice how ABSURDYOUR ENTIRE SOCIETY IS.

Everything from theCASTE SYSTEM to your SOCIETAL CONVENTIONS make absolutely no sense to you,which is why you’re lucky to be part of the ONLY CASTE IN YOUR SPECIES able towithstand the SEARING HEAT OF THE DAY, allowing to wander when NO ONE IS OUT TOFIND YOU. Furthermore, ever since your awakening as a RAINBOWDRINKER, you havehad no problems scaring away PROSECUTORS and even occasionally IMPERIAL DRONESthat wandered too close. You like trying to make others SEE THE WAY YOU DO,preferring REASON over VIOLENCE. However your INTENSE, OCCASIONAL THIRST FORBLOOD makes it hard to keep encounters CIVIL all the time. But that’s okay,your LUSUS helps you trap unsuspecting Trolls and Lusii for you to FEED ON. HerQUICK SANDS were the first thing that taught you patience and calm in diresituations, and for that you are EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO HER, allowing her todevour the CARCASSES OF THE DECEASED, DRAINED BODIES YOU LEAVE BEHIND. LususCarcasses. Not Troll Carcasses, God dammit, you TRY TO NOT DRAIN THOSE OF YOURSPECIES COMPLETELY.

You are as much of aROOKIE PHILOSOPHER as you are a CONNOSIER OF FINE BLOODS, and without manymaterial possessions, some of your favorite past times involve HEATEDPOLITICAL, RELIGIOUS AND PHILOSOPHICAL DEBATES. These are the only times youtend to get CARRIED AWAY with more long winded messages and stronger emotionalresponses. You believe any ARGUMENT or GRUDGE can be solved with aHEART-TO-HEART, and often AUSPISTICE BETWEEN YOUR FRIENDS, even when they don’task for your help. SPECIALLY when they don’t ask for your help. You tend toKNOW BETTER than they do after all.

Your search for newENLIGHTENED HEIGHTS and your PURPOSE IN LIFE has led you to the occasionalconsumption of PSYCHOSOMATIC STIMULANTS, but with your lifestyle, it has becomeincreasingly difficult to find any of the GOOD STUFF around. You’re so closethough. You have been tracking your BLOODLINE for SWEEPS, and have spent DAYSIN DEEP MEDITATION over the plan PARADOX SPACE has for you, and you just FEELlike something is just about to UNLOCK YOUR CHAKRAS AT ANY MOMENT. But untilthen, you will just KICK BACK, RELAX and LET THE ECHOES OF NATURE FLOW THROUGHYOU.

Your username is transcendentMediator,and you kind of. don’t care about small talk. until you find something you careabout™.

Shikra - Bard of Doom

Your name is SHIKRAOMYINE and you have been VERY, VERY BAD.

Those of your blood,at the bottom of the HEMOSPECTRUM, are often treated with disrespect, and madeto face all sorts of ABUSE AND HUMILIATIONS, but out of all rustbloods you’repossibly the one with the MOST ROTTEN LUCK out there. You must have really donesomething extremely wrong in a past life, because KARMA is always a BITCH whenit comes to you.

As such, you’ve oftentried to SEEK REPENTANCE in order to sate the FORCES OF FATE ATTEMPTING TO DICKWITH YOU. And somehow, every single time, it BACKFIRES TREMENDOUSLY. But it’sokay. You’ve gotten USED TO IT with time. You have learned well that fate issomething you can’t stop. That NO ONE CAN STOP. Karmic destinies,predestination, they’re shackles tying civilization down, leading it down thepath of inevitability, and you’re pretty much just ALONG FOR THE RIDE ASEVERYTHING BURNS AROUND YOU.

You have NOCONVICTION when it comes to fighting fate, but if you believe it to be yourdestiny to do something, or see someone resisting their own fate, you will GOFUCKING NUTS and PUSH THEM THE WAY THEY ARE MEANT TO GO, no matter what thatfate of theirs may be.

Your room is aCOMPLETE AND UTTER MESS, you don’t remember the LAST TIME YOU CLEANED IT UP,but then again you also barely remember the LAST TIME YOU TOOK A SHOWER. Whybother after all? Everything is going to end up the same way in the end.

While some may callyour outlook on life FATALISTIC and OUTRIGHT WRONG, you have been using thisdemeanor of yours to HELP OTHER LOWBLOODS, specially other rusties, to ACCEPTTHEIR ULTIMATE FATE. You have held several congregations in your hive for thosewho have given up, and HELPED SPEED UP THEIR DEMISE. It feels good relievingsomeone of their SUFFERING.

…

Yeah.

You may be a bit of aFUCKING PSYCHOPATH.

Your username isominousEntropy, and you come across… as somewhat manipulative at times… haha…?;)

Tiamat - Page of Breath

Your name is TIAMAT SAAVAN, and you can’t remember the last time you TOOK AN ABLUTION. 

Not that there’s anyone around to MAKE YOU DO IT- And even if they were, what COULD they do about it? You’re probably one of the BIGGEST TROLLS YOUR AGE in just about every way, from the IMMENSE MANE that rivals that of HER IMPERIOUS CONDESCENSION’S, to your POWERFUL LEGS, which you have cracked QUITE A FEW LUSUS SKULLS with. You like HUNTING PREY, but if there’s anything better than that, it has to be MESSING WITH IT FIRST. OTHER TROLLS make particularly fun targets, when they find a SEEMINGLY LOST GIRL, alone in the JUNGLE. You get FREEBIES by TAGGING ALONG with them, but occasionally, you have also DRAGGED THEM BACK TO YOUR HIVE or ATTACKED THEM depending on the circumstances.

The area you live in is YOUR TERRITORY, which you inherited from your CHOLERBEAR LUSUS when you BESTED HER IN WILD, FERAL COMBAT. She was an overbearing burden either way, but taking your ONLY PARENTAL FIGURE so early in life, and in such an isolated location, had… CONSEQUENCES. DRONES don’t patrol this far into the Jungle, which also means you’ve spent a good chunk of your life ISOLATED FROM CIVILIZATION. Your Hive isn’t even in Imperial Records, having been CARVED through the years from a FALLEN, ANCIENT TREE, first by your Lusus and then by you. You have NO EXPERIENCE with social interactions, and yet, ironically, because of this, you possess a MATERNAL, NURTURING INSTINCT practically UNSEEN in most of Trollkind.

It was only last sweep that you got your hands on a PALMHUSK from one of the Trolls wandering too far into the woods. TURNING A NEW PAGE in your life, realizing that there’s more to the world than you thought it was, you’ve been… Trying to make friends. But sometimes you just need to STEP BACK and CATCH YOUR BREATH before you burn yourself out. 

Your trolltag is untamedPersuasion, and you. not really good. with big words yet. :( but you. try. :3

Lilith - Lord of Void

Your name is. 

Your name- 

… 

You have some PROBLEMS. 

Your name is LILITH MIRREA and you’re a completely AVERAGE TEALBLOOD.

You cannot exactly RECALL how most of your LAST WEEK has gone, or your ENTIRE LIFE for that matter. Everything BLURS together when you spend most of your waking hours in AUTOPILOT.

Your peers know you as an EXEMPLARY LEGISLACERATOR IN TRAINING. You have been STUDYING ALTERNIAN LAW from a young age, got yourself a NICE HIVE for you and your BLIND ANACONDA MOM, and proceeded to… Wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Night after night, you READ ALTERNIAN LAW. You TALK TO YOUR PEERS. You present yourself as the PERFECT ALTERNIAN CITIZEN, PERFECTLY RUTHLESS when needed, PERFECTLY COMPLIANT when required, PERFECTLY AVERAGE, PERFECTLY FINE. 

PERFECTLY DEAD INSIDE. 

You swear hardly a SINGLE ACTION you’ve done in your life has been your own. You STRUGGLE ENORMOUSLY with concepts regarding IDENTIY and WORTH, in a world that has proven to encourage keeping this SOUL-CRUSHING DAY-TO-DAY of yours. You have NOTHING you care about. You have NO ONE you trust enough to TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS, and you lack any semblance of WILL or DRIVE to accomplish anything in your life.

So you just keep going. The PERFECT ALTERNIAN ROLE MODEL. You KEEP WAITING. So that maybe something will eventually FILL THIS VOID inside of you. But… GOOD LORD.

You don’t know how long you can keep this up.

Your trolltag is listlessConduit, And you really talk in a sort of disinterested manner because like I dont know I guess some conversations are okay from time to time maybe