#journal of a dream mercenary

[mbrainspaz]

lovely 3 hour nap in the middle of today in a pile of dogs where I dreamt something complicated about living on another planet and traveling through portals to pull off a heist with my mentor or something. It was fraught, is all I remember.

[mbrainspaz]

Wait, you guys don't have cell phones in your dreams? I take photos with mine all the time and then wake up sad that they didn't save, and then I have to paint them.

This was the first one I ever almost had the skill to paint, back in 2012

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Dean Winchester Drabbles/One Shots

All the links travel to ao3!

updated October 16 2024

Main Masterlist

Adoration || Summary: it’s no secret Dean adores her.

Baby, I'm Yours || Summary: When news of your pregnancy comes to light, Dean rushes to your aid.

Bold Statements || Summary: mercenary work has its perks.

Broken Weddings || Summary: Dean misses your wedding to go on a hunt with Sam

Could Happiness Last? || Summary: Dean holds his child for the first time.

Daddy's First || Summary: Dean dreams of having a baby with you.

Demonic Taunts || Summary: Winchester brothers were psychotic in their own rights.... it seemed as though they'd gotten off on the fact that you were being tortured.... maybe so.

Drinks With Demons || Summary: looking for demons doesn't end to well for you.

Ever Play Tag, Darling? || Summary: Ever played tag with adrenaline running through your veins?

The Falling of Icarus || Summary: Dean winchester will do annything and every to take down Crowley. So when one of Crowley's supporters come to him in a time of desperation, Dean does anything he can to take it.

Forevermore Revenge || Summary: Years ago, you'd witnessed the murder of your parents. After tons of consoling and peace of mind, you decide to finally have a chat with the man who did the deed. It wasn't at all what you'd expected.

In the Lonely Shadows || Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben.

It's Going to Be Okay || Summary: you’re stressed about the apocalypse

Leather Confessions || Summary: By reading your journal, Dean finds out a secret of yours

Little Pet Shop || Summary: After gathering the shopping list, you and Dean run out to grab some things, only for you to convince Dean to stop at a nearby pet store.

Losing Control || Summary: You’d never tell a soul where Sam was being tortured.

Love of the Rivaling Seaboard || Summary: After being at sea for months at a time, you'd never expect to see your 'rival' at the docks with your crew...however the reunion is anything but hostile. [tumblr link]

Miscommunication || Summary: you left the bunker after overhearing a conversation with the Winchester brothers.

Mourning You || Summary: are you a demon or human?

Never Again || Summary: he was still normal… right?

Never Be Yours Again || Summary: dean runs into his ex partner on a hunt in a hotel. (Male!reader)

No Love For You || Summary: Dean knows exactly where it hurts….

Not Your Time || Summary: when you can't find Dean, you go looking for him, only to come to find your worst nightmare.

Patience With Love || Summary: Dean comes home feeling sullen about the loss of his favorite patient.

S.O.S. || Summary: you find out Dean had said yes to Michael after all…. [TUMBLR LINK]

See You Again || Summary: When dean turns into a demon, you make the ultimate sacrifice…

Sleeping Cuddles || Summary: One morning laying next to Dean.

Snuggles || Summary: Dean holds his newborn baby in his arms while you watch in amazement.

Something Wicked This Way Comes || Summary: Living as a witch isn’t as fun as you’d think.

Sunshine in Darkness || Summary: You always loved waking up next to Dean

A Thousand Years || Summary: Happiness never lasts

Traitors Everywhere || Summary: You try and find dean before he kills the innocent

Trusted Loss || Summary: Dean finds out you cheated on him with lucifer.

Wedding Dates || Summary: Dean aks you to pretend to be his date at his father’s wedding.

Worrisome || Summary: you went out for groceries only to be rescued by Dean after being captured by a pack of werewolves.

Your Savior Will Come || Summary: you run to your best friend for help after you escape your abusive boyfriend dean.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Bag Game!

Thanks for the tag, @kaylinalexanderbooks (here)!

Rules: Name five things your OC would have in a backpack or any bag at school.

I'll go with some of the cast from Supernova Initiative and Enchanted Illusions.

(Since my characters live in a either fantasy or sci-fi world and are not school-aged, Imma just go with the contents of their regular bags to make this easier)

(Supernova Initiative)

Jack Tithus

Mint bubblegum

Ammo and chargers for his guns

A miniature first aid pack/painkillers

A holo-picture of him and Cassie

Sweet and crunchy energy bars

A to-go bottle of chocolate milk

Cassie Tithus

Extra parts for her projects and robots

Scrunchies for her hair + hair dye packets

A pocket knife/box cutter

An old, skrunkly plushie

An extra tablet

Inflatable neck pillow

Aleks Keldora

The "face-changer" (his high tech mask that can turn him into anyone's lookalike)

Dozens of stolen IDs, documents and government papers

A handmade drawing of his mothers

Tiny explosives and big explosives

A bottle of nail polish

Vesper Foxx

Self-repair kit for her cyborg implants

A bunch of extra parts in case she needs to replace something

The bracelet her little sister gave her for her birthday

Knives. So many knives. And guns. Don't forget the guns, and poison gas grenades.

A list of the names of each member of the mercenary crew she is hunting down

Artemis Zreeth

Leather gloves and old goggles

Cheesy snacks

His father's old scarf

Star-dust cigarettes

Eyeliner

A foldable speeder bike that becomes a tiny disk when deactivated

Pax Stellaryn

Void Program study material

Crumpled notes, messy journals and glitter pens

His diary

A picture of his cat riding a floating skateboard (don't ask lol)

Sour candy, and lollipops

Ethean Mirannir

Extra uniform

Pilot gear and an emergency kit for his spaceship

A holo-picture of his whole family and him during his graduation day seven year ago

Neon markers and a drawing sketchbook

Fidget toy for anxiety relief

(Enchanted Illusions)

Augustus Grimmure

Bloodstained handkerchief

A small dagger

Necromancy tome of spells and his journal

Recipe for instant magical coffee

An engagement ring he has yet to give Harriet

A bag of cookies from his grandma

Harriet Sharppe

Dainty silk gloves

Extra painkillers in case her cousin forgets

Pocket knife

The latest book she is reading

Lip balm

Chocolate bar

Agatha Greenwoods

Her overflowing journal, containing clues of the case she's trying to solve

A crumpled but well loved picture of her father

Sleep medicine

Switchblade

An extra change of clothes

Cailean Telkerly

His late brother's broken pocketwatch

Worn out brass knuckles and a pocket pistol

Multiple kinds of currency, all stolen

A bottle of cologne

Crumpled candy papers

Falsified documents for any given occasion

Sam Delaways

Snacks and extra food

A dusty old jacket

Very little spare change/copper coins, on good days

A bunch of useless knickknacks he proudly collects

His brothers' plushies when they don't want to carry them

Evangeline Daemitya

Her drawing sketchbook and a travel case for her pens and pencils

A locket with a picture of her and her father

Her intricate coinpurse

An enchanted rapier that becomes a tiny ring when not being used

Poison bottles and a botany guide

Tagging: @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[mbrainspaz]

I too have fish tank stress dreams. The bigger the stress, the bigger and more precariously built the fish tank is. But I’d bet my most uncommon one is that I’m frequently being sent on missions to assassinate or rescue random people on other planets.

everyone has dreams about being lost at school, late to work, cant find bathroom etc but whats yalls most common Uncommon stress dream. ill always have dreams about having various problems with my fish tank

[rodolfoparras]

Wolverine pussyfucker here to fill in gravity falls lore info!

Stan got kicked out and sold sham products (Stan-vac: it sucks more than anything!) until he got a letter from ford telling him "hey pls pull up to my reclusive shack"

WELLLLLL FORD HAS BEEN BUSY!!

He accidentally summoned a dream demon from the second dimension named bill ciphwr and entered a toxic yaoi relationship where bill would use ford to try and get a physical manifestation while manipulating (and lowky falling in love) and ford was in love with him and referred ti him as a muse

Untillll they broke up and bill went a little wacky

So bill was using ford to build a portal to let him into the third dimension, byt ford was like "shit i need to destroy this" after they broke up so he was like "stan can you take my journals where i detail expressly how to build this portal and go a thousand miles away and never talk to me again"

Stan was pissed because "we havent talked since we were teens and now u want me to leave!? Frick you!!" And accidentally pushed ford INTO said portal, ending up with ford going through universes in an attempt to destroy bill and/or get home

Stan was like "shitballs i need to bring my brother home" and spent thirty years pouring over 2/3 journals and figuring out complex math and science while making as much money as possible to pour it into fixing up the portal because he loved his brother so much

WELLL he had 2 great nieces/nephews named mason/dipper and mabel, who pulled up to gravity falls when their parents were fighting one summer and dipper found the missing journal so stanley was like "hey =) fork it over =) i have GYAT to finish the portal"

MEANWHILE ford was becoming hot and doing interdimensional mercenary stuff and finally he was about to kill bill cipher when the portal opened back up and he was sucked back into gravity falls

But yeah stanley stole fords identity to fix the portal to bring ford home

If you held me at gun point and asked me what the show was about I’d never be able to come to this conclusion Jesus Christ I thought it was about two kids and a weird old man never ever would I guess this is the plot behind it

ALSO THE ROMANCE IS REAL?? I THOIGHT IT WAS A JOKE!! AND HE TRIED TO KILL HIM AG THE END??

And dear god poor Stan his whole life he’s just trying to make up for mistakes he’s made and they aren’t even small like hey get better at communicating with your brother no it’s hey fix this portal to bring ur brother home😭

[captainmullin]

The Journal of Captain Mullin - Chapter O. - The Fool.

Summary: A retelling of Captain Mullin's story, a young mercenary who took up the mantle of The Grancypher crew - following in their father's footsteps. A story of grief, tragedy, and how to sail into the future.

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[O. 1. 2. 3. 4. Interlude 1. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. Interlude 2. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. Interlude 3. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. Interlude 4. 20. 21. 22. Epilogue.]

Chapter Wordcount: 4,473

Song Inspo: Icarus by Bastille; Is There Anybody Here? by The Dear Hunter; Dawn in the Adan by Ichiko Aoba

Notes: It's here! I will be trying my best to update this weekly, but it might be closer to every 2 weeks at most. I sincerely hope you enjoy my danchousona's story, and I'm eager to tell you more of it!! This is probably my biggest writing project to date. Please enjoy!

Divider Credit: @.craftkitsune (tufted banner design 03)

Wind.

That’s all I could feel. 

It rushed past my ears like a thundering waterfall; a cacophony of silent sound that made my eardrums burn. I wanted to speak, but no words could come out. The pressure on my chest felt crushing; utterly and entirely compromising. I couldn't move to do anything about the pain - to just accept whatever fate had befallen me.

What have I done?

Flashes of memories crossed my mind. My family, friends, and the world around me. Companions of old and new. I knew so little, and yet I know nothing. Death seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. What had my life surmounted to? Was I a good person? Did I live a life worthy of being saved? 

What have I done?

I had a feeling that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. In the midst of the air, all I could see was red. A crimson sky; unchanging and unholy. It made my stomach churn with regret. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes as they slowly closed - I surrendered myself to the wind. 

What have I done?

There was a lingering feeling of regret, somewhere deep in my soul. I wasn’t sure if it was for myself, or for leaving so many people behind. I didn’t deserve to feel that guilt, that sadness - it was all my own doing. I knew that; it was something so deeply ingrained in my heart that I didn’t know anything else. I was always running, always turning away from those that mattered the most, and now I can’t say goodbye. Maybe I didn’t earn it. A shooting star, burning itself out. Doomed to eternally fall towards its own death. 

What have I done?

Oh.

I remember now.

Chapter O. - The Fool.

The Fool takes a leap of faith from the ledge they are perched at. Stepping and falling into the unknown are one and the same. What lies below the cliff's edge?

I awoke with a start, my instincts kicking in and causing me to jolt - resulting in hitting my head on the wooden supports above me. My room onboard the Starseeker was small, cramped, and entirely too compact for me to ever feel comfortable in it. Despite the many times I’ve taken this journey, the room always felt… off. Unsettling. Maybe it was the fact that I was returning home after being away for so long - that guilt that churned in my stomach remained even after my nightmare had passed. I tried to shake off the bile that had risen in my throat. The nightmare had passed, so why did it bother me so much?

I squinted at the window on the opposite end of me, it’s dawning sky peering back at me. It was a burning red; similar to the one in my dream. Stars still dotted the morning horizon. There was knocking at the door, its rhythm frantic - meeting the pounding of my heart. I groaned, rubbing the fresh injury on my head. It is way too early for any of this. What time is it, anyway?

"Hey, Mullin!" A voice called from the other side of the door: “Your stop is almost here!” 

"Oh, damn- thanks, Henryk." I replied, sitting up in bed. "I'll be out soon!"

Henryk was one of the three Erune siblings that were onboard The Starseeker - the small passenger ship Mullin occupied now. The Starseeker was run by an older couple; a young man as the helmsman and his Harvin wife as the captain that had aged alongside Mullin as they frequented distant islands. The Starseeker was one of the few ships that made out the long journey to Zinkenstill, leading the young mercenary to know them intimately over the past years. 

Henryk was the oldest of the siblings at 16, but still had boundless energy like he was 12. He was always running around the airship, constantly repairing it under the helmsman's watch. I feel like I've always been by their side, ever since I became a full-fledged mercenary. I hope I can see everyone again before I go.  

"You got it!" Henryk's footsteps faded away as he ran off in the opposite direction. I sighed, stretching out my arms and preparing myself to face the crew and the awning new day. Pink and yellow rays outside my window indicated that dawn was approaching… and I've always loved sunrises on Zinkenstill. 

What greeted me on The Starseeker's deck was the morning sun - and Osta, the second of the three siblings. She was mopping the deck - not always a morning person, but wanting to get her job done before the hot afternoon hit. Her constant black clothes were a reminder of how I used to be when I was her age; 14 and ready to fight anyone at a moment's notice. 

Breaking my gaze from her, I blinked away the remnants of sleep and made my way over to the edge of the deck. Clouds passed by in puffy white bundles; the sunrise giving way to a clear blue morning. I leaned over the railing - just enough to see Zinkenstill not far below. The green hills and dark trees were fuzzy in the distance, but I could still make out little houses down below. Farmland had made its change from the deep greens of summer into the beige colors of fall. One of them has to be Gran and Djeeta, right? Hopefully they're safe, with the Erste Empire collapsing I haven't had time to contact them… 

I reached out over the railing edge, my gloved hand grasping for the clouds that hung there in the air. Zinkenstill was so close, yet still felt so impossibly far away. The wind blew through my fingers as if it were beckoning me onwards. I could almost touch it, just a bit further- 

"Hey, watch it. I'm not catching you when you fall." Osta's monotone voice cut into my thoughts, the blood rushing back towards my head as I caught myself before I fell over the ship's edge.  Oh, that was a close one. 

"Sorry, Osta." I mumbled to no one. Maybe I've been too high-strung lately. Everything's been put on a wire-thin tightrope around here, me included. I shouldn't get distracted. They say absence makes the heart fonder, but… I looked down at the island again, and sighed. I just want to get home at this point. I need to pack. 

Turning around and waving to Osta, I headed back towards my cabin, eager to find coffee in the common room. Behind me, the white clouds formed a large shadow across the island of Zinkenstill, casting darkness over everything the clouds touched. A new day approaches and the cliff's edge remains ever-closer. 

An unfamiliar ship was docked on the port - that was the first thing Mullin noticed as they unboarded The Starseeker. It was a much larger vessel than the one the mercenary had just departed from; large sails and an impressive silhouette on the skyline. Adorned on her front was the carving of a large dragon head; her wooden eyes seeming to peer directly into Mullin's soul. They shuddered and turned away - not afraid, mind you, just… unsettled. The remnants of this morning's dream hadn't entirely faded away. 

Taking a deep breath in, Mullin hoisted one of their canvas bags over their shoulder and carried the other in their opposite hand. The coffee from earlier had carried out its duties - a jolt of energy throughout Mullin's system as they took their first step forward towards the path that led to town. Where their family was waiting. Another pang of guilt, but it was too quick to fully comprehend. They exhaled. 

And took another step. 

I felt an uneasiness in the air as I approached my home at the top of the hill; nervousness causing me to stumble on the rocky pathway. I hadn't felt this way returning home in a very long time, so why now? Something felt off - Gran usually greeted me as soon as I stepped foot on the island. I sat my bags down on the front porch and placed one of my hands on the pistol that was holstered around my belt. Shifting my weight, I knocked on the door. 

A beat passed. Then two. I shifted my weight again, and brought my hand up to knock again -

"MULLIN!" There was a shriek of delight from inside the house as the door swung wide open to reveal Djeeta; face flushed from running down the steps. Before I could react, she threw herself onto me and knocked me flat on my back in a hug. My bags tumbled back down the hill - and another headache began to form on the back of my head. In the back of my mind, I vaguely noticed that Djeeta was wearing… armor of some sort, and a weighty sword equipped to her side.

"Djeeta, what's-?" I began, patting her on the back and trying to regain my vision from my dizzying descent onto grass.

"You're home! Oh, there's so much we have to tell you!" Djeeta began rambling, offering a hand to help me stand back up. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the migrain beginning to form. She then started going on about something about an adventure and we died and there's this really cute girl and-

"You DIED?" I opened my eyes and whipped around to face my sister completely now, watching as the excitement on her face quickly morphed into one of abashedness and only the tiniest bit of shame. Djeeta laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. 

"Well- um- it was only for a little bit-"

"'Only for a little bit'? Djeeta, what in the skies did you do while I was gone? Six months!" I said, "Six months and you've gone and up and died? Do you know how worried I was? The Erste Empire has gone through an entire revolution and I've had to work my ass off to make sure you both got money for food and-"

"It's okay, Mullin." This time, Gran's soft voice greeted me at the doorstep of our home. My brother was always the more rational one, but my apprehension didn't disappear.  He wore an expression matching Djeeta's - also rubbing the back of his neck. "Come inside. We should… talk. There's a lot you've missed."

My bags were still at the bottom of the hill.

Inside, the uneasiness I felt had somehow tripled in feeling. In front of me sat complete strangers - they were in my living room, my kitchen - and they all were equally as tense as I was. The first thing to catch my eye was a young girl, no more than 13, with vibrant blue hair. She wore a white dress, and an expression of concern as I was shuffled inside by Gran and Djeeta.

"Um… this is Mullin, right?" She said, her voice meek. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other - not nervous, but she's… curious? I thought to myself as I brushed grass off of my hair and clothes. I nodded. 

"...Yeah. I'm Mullin." I replied, feeling a bit lame in my response. I was never very good at first impressions, and no doubt that today would be full of them. I looked around the living room, and made a mental note of who was there. A man with a full beard was sharpening a knife while looking out the window - a woman with long black hair sat across from him. They both were occupied with their thoughts, it seemed. I could also hear movement and voices from the kitchen, but they were faint. 

I felt eyes on the back of my neck and turned to meet the gaze of a woman with brunette hair. She was dressed as a knight; her armor glistened and the sword at her belt told me she was far more experienced than I with it. Realizing I had taken too long to say something more than my name, I continued.

"...I'm their sibling. Older by a few years. I've been out on a job for the past few months. Have they…" I glanced over to my siblings. "...not said anything about me?" 

A pang of hurt went through me. I know I haven't been the most present lately, but surely they would have mentioned me? I've continually tried to send letters, but I haven't had many responses… 

"It's not like that!" Gran said, waving his hands in defense. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued: "We've been traveling. We couldn't get any of your letters - we only saw the pile at our door this morning," he admitted. 

"-So we'll be going through them today with you!" Djeeta finished. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. The knight to my side also sighed. She took her hand off of the hilt of her sword and held out her hand.

"...They never mentioned you had purple hair. Or how…" She gave me a once-over. "...Protective you might be. My name is Katalina Aryze. I'm a former Erste Empire lieutenant." 

I took her hand and shook it. It was a firm handshake; warm. The girl with the blue hair tapped me on the shoulder and also held out her hand: "I'm Lyria!"

Just Lyria? Nothing else? I also shook her hand, and was pleasantly surprised by how strong of a grip she had. Katalina smiled softly at her, and I could feel the warmth radiate from her expression. I guess these people aren't so bad. It still doesn't explain why they're here, though…

I looked back over at Gran and Djeeta, who were whispering conspiratorially to each other to one side of the room. Before I could say anything, the voices from the kitchen got louder and a large crash erupted from the room. I swiveled on my foot and began to move towards the noise, but Gran held out an arm before I could move. He gave me a silent shake of his head, as if to tell me everything would be okay. 

"Geez, old man, can't you do anything right?" A young girl's voice rang with more clarity now. Emerging from the room, the girl twirled a staff that looked about the same size as her and pointed it at the other man that came out. She huffed and puffed at him while he just groaned and rolled his eyes. He had brown hair swept over to one side of his face, and some facial hair - not nearly as intense as the other man's. He looked… tired. We locked eyes for a moment, a brief second of acknowledgement, before I glanced away. 

"I'm not an old man. Sheeh, it ain't my fault you dropped the cooking pot." He said, then leaned down to ruffle the girl's hair, only for Djeeta to clear her throat. 

"Ah-hem! Now that we're all here, I'll make some introductions!" She placed her hands on her hips in a pose exuding confidence - not that she needed any effort to be any louder. "Mullin, this is the Grandcypher crew. We're skyfarers now!" 

"I- what? What did you do in the six months I was gone…" I mumbled to myself, watching as she pointed out each individual member of their crew. Wait, what was the name…?

"That's Eugen in the corner. He's from Auguste, and he knows a lot about being an adventurer!" The aforementioned skyfarer nodded at me and I nodded back. He looked away from his knife for a moment and stared me down. Under his gaze, I shrunk back - only to be greeted by a warm, hearty laugh from Eugen.

"Hah! Good to meet ya. Gran and Djeeta are good kids - I can see you're the same." He smiled proudly and returned to his work. The woman next to him spoke next.

"My name is Rosetta. I used to travel with your father when we were younger." Rosetta had a ghost of a smile on her lips before she inclined her head towards my siblings: "They are much like him. It's good to meet you." 

Djeeta nodded, as if the introductions were to her satisfaction, then turned to the girl and the man who had come out of the kitchen - I should probably clean up whatever mess they made before getting my bags - and the girl spoke first.

"I'm Io! I'm a mage from the Valtz Duchy. Good to meet you!" She bowed her head and gestured with her staff to the man: "That's Rackam. He's the guy who pilots our airship. Y'know, that big one that's on the dock right now?"

The dragon's wooden eyes flashed through my memory. I said nothing, but waved my hand for Io to continue - but not before Rackam made a noise of discontent and cut her off: "'s not just any airship. That's my Grandcypher! You don't get the importance of it, do ya…" 

"Wait, The Grandcypher? Isn't that-?" I paused, frowning. That's the name? No. The crew that took down the Erste Empire was called the Grand-something. It can't be the same crew, can it? That would mean-

I locked eyes with Gran and Djeeta. My realization had caught onto them, and they wore matching expressions of hesitation and relief at the same time. They're the ones that toppled the Empire? With this crew? What? I felt sick to my stomach - and lightheaded. Why were they doing something so dangerous? What happened? How could they have done such a thing? Why? 

"Woah, they don't look so good!" Io said, making her way over to the front door. I hadn't moved a muscle. I couldn't say anything - no noises came out, let alone a word or a full sentence. My vision started to blur, and eventually it all went black.

Gran leaning over me was the last thing I saw before I promptly passed out. 

Mullin awoke in their bedroom, a hazy memory of dragons and the wind blowing past their ears joining them as they woke. Their head pounded against their skull; a dull migraine only growing worse by the second. Everything was too much for their senses - the shuffling of clothes and the bright light from their window indicated that the sun was still up, and that it hadn't been very long since they had fainted. 

A groan escaped their throat as they felt a cold cloth being pushed against their forehead. Soft voices faded in and out as their consciousness slowly came back to the mercenary; gentle hands helping them sit upright in bed. 

"Do you think we scared 'em that bad?" 

"I… I don't know. They tend to get worried pretty easily. Maybe it's that?"

"Aw, c'mon guys, it'll be okay! We have a ton to catch up on, I'm sure they aren't too upset?" 

Mullin blinked slowly, opening their eyes carefully so as to not let the rays of the setting sun hit them too hard. Squinting, the mercenary could make out three figures sitting at their bedside. Gran and Djeeta to their right, with Vyrn to their left. As their eyes adjusted more, they could make out that they were in their old bed; covers and blankets just as they were on the day they left. Their siblings wore matching expressions of worry, while the little red and orange dragon on the opposite side was much more hopeful. 

“See, they’re awake!” Vyrn chirped, resting his little paw on Mullin’s hand. “Knew you would wake up, buddy.”

“Mh- ugh… Vyrn…?” They mumbled, holding one of their hands up to their forehead. The rag was still there; cool and warm at the same time. It provided some relief for Mullin's aching head - but not much. "What happened..?"

"You fainted. Are you… okay?" Djeeta asked, shifting her weight between her feet. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to shock you." 

Now fully sitting up, Mullin shook their head: "I- I'm fine. I was worried about you more than anything. What were you two thinking, running off into danger like that?" They winced, their headache still pounding. 

"It just sort of happened!" Gran replied. "Here, um, I brought some medicine. We should talk." 

Mullin nodded, and as the sun set over Zinkenstill, Gran and Djeeta explained how they ended up in the situation they were in now. Lyria - the girl with the blue hair - and Katalina, the knight, had crash landed on the island as they were running away from the Erste Empire. They also explained how they both managed to take part of the blow from a primal beast - leading to Gran, Djeeta, and Lyria's souls being bonded with one another.

So Lyria saved my siblings. I guess I owe her a 'thank you.' Mullin thought to themself as they listened to their story; from meeting Rackam in Port Breeze and Io in the Valtz Duchy, to Eugen and Rosetta - then to how they met Sturm and Drang, a famous mercenary duo that had worked with the Erste Empire for a time. 

"Oh, that's news to me," Mullin interrupted. "I was traveling with Sturm and Drang for a bit on a couple of excursions. I wonder if they were working for the Empire during that time too."

Vyrn just shrugged: "Maybe. But we won't really know until we ask 'em, yeah?" 

"Mm." Mullin nodded, and continued to listen. As the story wore on, the young mercenary began to nod off into slumber. The day had clearly taken its toll on Mullin; their headache was more like the vibrations of a beating drum against their skull. The story had seemed to end with Gran, Djeeta, and Vyrn all whispering their goodnights and sleep wells, before the door to Mullin's room was closed with a gentle click.

I awoke early the next day, still groggy but not nearly as confused nor frazzled as usual. I had no unusual dreams that night, which I think was a blessing in itself - I don't know how I would've reacted if I saw that dragon and her wooden, unfeeling eyes in my sleep. I shuddered, then began my trial of managing to rouse myself out of bed. 

I wasn't leaving for a while anyway, so there was no sense of urgency as I unpacked - I think Djeeta retrieved my bags as an apology for knocking me over - and found my journal. The worn notebook was one of many, its leather covers and unassuming nature was a piece of comfort and home in my travels. I approached my desk, digging out an old quill and finding my ink bottle. In the rising sun, I began to write.

I don't remember when I first started doing it. It began with Azazel teaching me how to write better - then again, my handwriting could never outpace his - the large Draph and the small human being an unlikely pair to many. We took field notes together, marking down locations on maps and different herbs for medicine. 

Then, it changed. I began to write to Gran and Djeeta on my travels, then started noting them down for my own sake. As a preservation of memory? In hopes that someone would read it when I had been long gone? A memoir? As my thoughts drifted, the ink on my quill began to leak onto the pages. I quickly began to clean up the mess; this was how most of my days began…

"Who wants pancakes?" A shout came from downstairs. "C'mon, we're leaving soon!"

Leaving soon? But didn't they just get back yesterday, like I did? My curiosity getting the best of me, I hurridly changed clothes and joined the others downstairs for breakfast. 

What greeted me that morning was Io and Lyria in the kitchen, making pancakes from scratch as Katalina was ushered outside to help Eugen with weapon maintenance - I guess they didn't want her in the kitchen? - before turning to find Rosetta in the living room, sipping tea. I guess my disappointment was apparent on my face, because as I approached her, she sat down the cup with a small smile.

"I'm guessing this was your tea, then?" A giggle escaped her lips: "I didn't know you were such an aficionado." 

"I'm… not," I mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed: "I like that blend. I don't mind if you have some. I mainly drink it since coffee is too bitter."

"And…" Rosetta took another sip from her cup. "'Earl Grey and Bourbon' isn't?"

"Well- it's- the bourbon adds a smoky quality to the blend that you don't get with coffee, and-"

"Mullin, are you rambling about your tea stuff again?" I heard Gran from outside call in. He was sitting by the living room window, the front porch now overtaken by chairs and tables. "Eat breakfast with us out here, we need to ask you something."

"I'm not rambling- ugh, okay, I'll be there." I waved him off and leaned closer to Rosetta, almost conspiratorially: "If it's too sweet, there's sugar cubes in the top right cabinet above the stove."

Making my way outside, I grabbed a glass of water before sitting down with my family. Djeeta had already made me a spot, the steam of the pancakes coming off in waves in the cool Autumn air. However, as I sat down, it felt as tense as it did yesterday when I walked into the house. 

"Is everything okay?" I asked, cutting into one of my pancakes. Gran and Djeeta exchanged a look. Oh no. What is it?

"Mullin, um, we've been thinking…" Gran began, this time to look more nervous than usual. "And- and you have every right to say no, and it's absolutely okay if you do-"

"Gran. " I interrupted him: "Just tell me what it is, then I can say yes or no. Okay?"

"Okay, well…" Djeeta continued, eyes glancing off to the sides. "Do you want to say it together, Gran?"

An affirmative nod from Gran. Djeeta exhaled, as if she was holding in a breath. Then, my siblings looked at me head-on: 

"We want you to be the captain of the Grandcypher crew."

Wait.

What?

Icarus is flying too close to the sun

and Icarus's life, it has only just begun

this is how it feels to take a fall

Icarus is flying towards an early grave

[mickmundy]

finished my profiles for medic and sniper for my bushmedicine fic series, thou giveth fever! ^u^ this covers some vague backstory and general info about them, and fun lil moodboards! html credit

very long text version under the cut!

Michael "Mick" Mundy

pronouns: he/him

dob: January 19th

country of origin: Australia

mercenary alias: Sniper

current employer: TF Industries (RED)

primary inventory

Sniper rifle (stock), SMG, kukri (razorback and cozy camper used intermittently). Carries a thermos for coffee and small snacks (jerky, granola bar, etc). Keeps herbs for improvised healing. Wears shooting glasses with prescriptions in them; nearsighted.

fighting style

Ideally prefers long distance [sniper rifle], also adept at close-range combat [kukri]. Would rather fight alone, moving from vantage point to vantage point. Assists team by calling out incoming BLUs from respawn and taking out flanking enemies.

hobbies

taxidermy, grilling, canning/preserving, botany, playing saxophone, bar games (billiards, darts, shuffleboard), hunting, bonding with his owl, horseback riding, reading (poetry, non-fiction, romance), sharpshooting, journaling, leatherworking

Prefers being on his own and doesn't like to rely on others, but will gladly lend a helping hand if you ask him. He is constantly honing his skills and places a lot of personal value on how useful he is to those around him. Sniper is sexually repressed and emotionally immature, absolutely awful at processing and understanding his own feelings.

height: 6'3" (190.5 cm)

build: "dad" body

hair: brown (mullet)

eyes: light brown

background; The following is a mix of my own personal headcanons, canon events, and my interpretation of them. This feeds into my fic series, Thou Giveth Fever.

life before Teufort (pre-game or comic events)

Sniper grew up with his parents in the Australian bush and has spent his life honing his skills as a hunter of man and beast alike. Had a strained relationship with his parents for most of his life after leaving home to work as an assassin (later mercenary). Grew up as a social outcast and prefers working alone to this day. Devotes himself completely to his work and cared little for establishing relationships (romantic or platonic) while on his travels, keeping to himself and living in a custom-converted camper van that his father had given him before he left home.

Took up big-game hunting and taxidermy as side hustles between bigger jobs and has a lot of respect for life and death. Educated himself on being a survivalist (building upon what his father had taught him growing up in an unforgiving rural area) and amassing a large knowledge of herbal remedies and tactics that helped him become the efficient hunter he is today.

employment with RED team (events of Team Fortress 2)

Works with his team by pinning and picking off BLU mercenaries at choke points and calling out enemy positions to his teammates. Moves from tower to tower as matches progress and dislikes being on the ground, but will go where he needs to in order to get the job done. Doesn't mind getting his hands dirty for the sake of the job and will do so without complaints.

Originally reluctant to join a mercenary team, Sniper eventually grew to enjoy the company of all of his coworkers, specifically Engineer, Demoman, and Spy, along with Scout. They drink together in their off time, often having to drag Sniper out of his van to do so, but he's thankful that they do. When he's not in the mood for being social (most of the time), he can be found in his camper van, or outside bonding with his Western Screech-Owl, Ser Hootsalot.

after the team's disbanding (during - post-comics)

Sniper discovers that he's been adopted and is swiftly betrayed by his biological parents. He is fatally shot by Classic Team's Sniper and was brought back to their base, where he bled out and died. He [dreamed, hallucinated] that he finally gets his parents' blessing, expressing his want to stay with them in heaven. They tell him that he's still got a lot of people that need taking care of, and Sniper wakes up on Medic's operating table, having been brought back to life by the doctor.

After the team gets back together, Sniper is still left to deal with his family home after the death of his parents (having been interrupted by Miss Pauling recruiting his help in locating Australium) and, while unbothered by the revival itself, struggles with what to do with himself when he had been ready to die and then was... denied that. By a teammate who he seldom ever spoke to, who was working with the enemy at the time, no less!

-------

Dr. Ludwig

pronouns: he/him

dob: June 23rd

country of origin: Germany

mercenary alias: Medic

current employer: TF Industries (RED)

primary inventory

Medigun, syringe gun, ubersaw. Has no other medical supplies on hand other than his medigun and prefers to travel light. Carries a notepad and pen, and a water bottle to stay hydrated. Always wears his glasses.

fighting style

Best in close-knit groups or with powerhouse classes. Is deceptively athletic and can keep up with any teammate with ease. Sadistic and loves getting his hands dirty! Very capable and physically strong.

hobbies

baking, watching movies, learning new things, botany, reading (non-fiction), tending to his doves, practicing medicine, playing violin or accordion, sewing, listening to classical music, equestrian dressage

Enjoys working as a team and doesn't mind giving assistance when needed. Is a complete and total wildcard; likes being underestimated and knowing his own strength. Medic knows (and values) his own worth and has no problem letting others know that they need him, not the other way around. Very emotionally in-touch with himself.

height: 6'2" (187 cm)

build: burly

hair: black, gray

eyes: blue

background; The following is a mix of my own personal headcanons, canon events, and my interpretation of them. This feeds into my fic series, Thou Giveth Fever.

life before Teufort (pre-game or comic events)

Medic was an only child born to a well-off family in Germany. Not much is known about his past, and he likes it that way! He was a rebellious, unruly child who was impossible to contain, being passionate about things that personally interested him, and very little else. He cared for his parents, but never found himself missing them when he'd left home, or when they passed. Charismatic even in his youth, he had no trouble getting what he wanted, though seldom ever found himself caring about the emotional aspect of relationships, romantic or platonic. He wanted to do what he wanted, when he wanted, and had no desire to get swept up in people!

Devoting himself to his own strange, morally dubious scientific endeavors, Medic found himself signing on to work for Teufort Industries so that he could further develop what he called Uber science on the company's dime, while being given willing-and-eager test subjects for his every medical whim.

employment with RED team (events of Team Fortress 2)

Naturally, Medic spends most of his time conducting research on the science of his uber technology. He isn't a doctor because he has a medical license or for some higher-calling to help the sick and needy... he's in it for himself and his own gain, first and foremost! That doesn't mean he's heartless; Medic can be kind and sensitive, and even with his lack of social graces (despite what he'll tell you!), his teammates still regard him as a good coworker, even if they don't know much about him. You'll never know which side of Medic you'll get, and if you want consistent healing, it's best to be good to him; he can hold one hell of a grudge!

There's nobody's company that he cherishes more than his best friend Archimedes, a dove that he stole and would be the first member of his small dule. The good doctor is never focusing on only one thing at a time, and is quite the workaholic; nothing brings him more pleasure than medicine! In his (very little) spare time, he enjoys having tea and conversation with his best friend Heavy, and baking pastries and breads! Likes keeping his hands busy and his mind sharp!

after the team's disbanding (during - post-comics)

When RED team disbanded, Medic was unfazed and quickly sought out another means of funding his experiments. Such was life as a scientist! As it turned out, Classic Team was in need of a Medic and hired him on full-time, all expenses paid. If he healed them, they were content to leave him to his devices in his free time... whatever he got into, they were happy to be none the wiser. It was thanks to this carelessness that he was able to find Sniper's body after he'd been killed by Classic Sniper, quickly beginning to revive him.

1.3 billion dollars and twelve hours later, Sniper was alive and well again! Truly a medical miracle! Medic dubs him as his greatest achievement and distracts an interrupting Classic Heavy so that Sniper can escape and meet up with the rest of the team. When the mercenaries all returned to Teufort, things resumed as normal, though Medic found himself wondering if his greatest achievement was having any troubles readjusting to life after, well, death. He wanted to pry (he's very nosy, after all!), but decided to leave it be; if Sniper wanted to discuss something with him, he supposed he knew where to find him.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Writer Questionnaire

Double tagged by @the-letterbox-archives! It's all under the cut cos this is looong.

Part 1

q1) is writing a hobby or way of life?

Creativity and imagination is a way of life. Writing's just my chosen method of expressing it.

q2) a journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript?

Completed manuscript haha. I'm not Tolkien, nobody's gonna wanna read my version of the Silmarillon.

q3) who (or what) is your writing inspiration?

Err- Real life, I guess? My dreams, too. I take what I see and make it into a story.

q4) which is worse: someone you “idolise” reading your first draft or listening to you sing?

My first drafts tend to be really neat, so singing. My singing's atrocious.

q5) has writing from someone else’s pov ever changed your own perspective?

Not for writing, but debating? Yeah, sometimes getting put on opp for a case where I'd rather be gov makes me see a whole new world.

q6) tumblr, ao3, livejournal, or ffn?

Tumblr. I like the community here :)

q7) ao3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it?

Err- My AO3 contains things I would rather not share with this mostly family-friendly blog, but my wordcount's about 30k there. In total, though? 250k words or so.

q8) what movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably?

Lolita, definitely. I read it as a 13 year old, then as a 15 year old, and as a 17 year old, and it still breaks my heart every time.

q9) what’s the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it?

The highest compliment would be for someone to say I made them cry/rage/laugh from my writing, and I'm pleased to say I once managed to send a friend into a fit of fury from my writing (it was Heroes that did it, mind you. She really hated Mara.)

q10) what defines your writing style?

I experiment a lot with styles, but I'd say I have 2 main ones. The more high-fantasy descriptive style, and something lighter and more fast-paced.

Part 2:

how long have you had your writing tumblr/writeblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

7months or so!

what led you to create it?

I wrote something I was insanely proud of, and felt the need to show it to the world.

what’s your favourite thing about the writeblr community?

The mutual interaction! So fun to watch my brain rot over someone else's OCs, and vice versa.

what’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I'm a nice person, I swear. If I've ever accidentally upset any of you, just tell me! I'll try my best to rectify whatever I did.

is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Not more, but I'd like to see less politics. My life's stressful enough without that stuff

which wips or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

I'm still dying from The Fae Prince, because holy crap that came out of nowhere and took my brain by storm.

how long have you been working on them?

I never work on projects for long, sadly. I just don't have the attention span for them! My oldest active project right now is Mind of a Mercenary, and it's 7 months old (I started it on New Year's Eve last year)

do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Yeah. Luna's been a fav of mine since I was a 14 year old, and I always wanted to tell her story. I felt I hadn't done it justice the previous two times I wrote it, so I tried again!

how much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

I only actually think about writing when I'm actively writing, haha. So about 2 hours a day?

when someone asks the dreaded, “what do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

Horror and fantasy! It's pretty easy cos I'm a stickler for those genres.

name any characters you created. side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

Hmm... In order of species, Ina Angelborn, Kimael Angelborn, Isobel Angelborn, Hash Brown, Hans-el Ko-clan, Miphala Sa-clan, Cefalin Sa-clan, Katherine Tan (yes Kat's Chinese, get with the program), Michael Woods, Iraela Foundling, Ramaeria Foundling, Maizen Carver, Sonder Woods (no relation), Mara Ng, David I-forgot-his-last-name.

who’s the most unhinged?

Iraela would like to be first place, and Mara would like to think she's last, but I'm afraid first and last gotta go to Ina and David respectively.

who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Naturally, Hans-el, as long as I don't take too close a look at what I'm typing. Otherwise, Luna. Her inner monologue sounds an awful lot like mine.

do you ever cringe at them?

All the time.

how much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

That depends. The more I write about a character, the more they refuse to follow instructions. That's what makes Ina so damn hard to write. Woman's lived in my head for a good 15 or so years, now.

what makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I follow them as I see 'em!

what makes you decide against following?

Too much politics. I cannot express how much I hate to see politics on my dash. I have real life for that stuff. Also too much religion/ideology. The only things I tolerate on my dash are fandom, cats, and writblr stuff.

do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Occasionally? I mean, I do try to reach out to whoever I see in the community, even if I haven't followed them yet.

do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

My noodle is currently occupied by JavaScript, so no. But soon, I will have time to go binge everyone's writing again, and I will find my next obsession amongst my moots' writing!

Tagging @cowboybrunch, @theink-stainedfolk, @urnumber1star, @mundanemoongirl, and @gioiaalbanoart (open tag too!) Feel free to choose between part 1 or part 2, or even do the whole thing!

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Hellsing Rewatch: Episode Three Thoughts

One | Two

I loooove Pip

My favorite thing about Hellsing is that Dracula the novel has canonically been published in it. How did that happen! Why! Did Van Helsing commission it?? Are they meant to be genuine entries of their journals as a found footage thing?

It’s really funny and appropriate that the Wild Geese are like lmao monsters?? But also if I was a mercenary taken to this shady ass mansion with its own barracks etc I’d just believe any insane shit

Rip Iscariot letter Not Bomb stamp, you will be missed

Integra and Alucard both having a taste for the ugliest possible hats

Maxwell is SO extra he’s crushing his own glasses! Sir you need those!!!

Andercard 💖💖💖💖💖 They’re so fucking insane I love them

Also does this museum have no security? Is no one like uh. They’re drawing guns here.

AGDHFHFHGF Alucard grumpily going back to bed, does that mean he was asked to accompany them to the museum or was he just being nosy?

It’s SO FUNNY how Maxwell is Anderson’s boss now, he’s practically his son

HDJFJFGHDD REMEMBER MAXWELL MAKING INTEGRA SAY PLEASE IN THE MANGA

Why does Maxwell sound so proud when he reveals that the Vatican helped the Nazis 🥲

It’s so so so funny that Major and Dok personally showed up to the museum to watch all this discussion go down and also WHY IS DOK BLOODY AND WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT

What does Alucard mean that only Millennium, Integra, AND HIM are crazy enough to enlist the undead as soldiers. Are we talking level zero or something else????

Also lol. lmao. Walter acting like he doesn’t remember Millennium

HOTEL TWINK HIIIIIIII

Alucard did NOT need to do that poor twink right that, he changed his fucking life. He will never be the same

I looooove the shot of Alucard walking into the hotel room with the rippling air around him

“With any luck they’ll not only dig their own graves but pay for the funeral as well” fucks tbh. It’s a really good line

The spirit of Harkonnen being like “Something terrible is about to happen” and it’s really just Alucard waking her up.

I love Alucard subtly correcting Seras saying “Good morning” with “Good evening” but also like idk taking the moment to respond politely despite being like “btw SWAT team here to kill us.” He also waited a REALLY long time to wake her tbh

I’m generally ambivalent to the gun spirit dream sequence shenanigans but the choice to have such a light silly scene before the absolute carnage that is the Rio hotel fight is such a good tonal shift.

Rio sequence my beloved 💖

I love the beat when Integra questions if Alucard is going to show any restraint or like moral qualms at all in the face of adversity and Walter reminds her that he’s a monster. It definitely has the tone of a conversation they’ve had before.

Alucard’s so mad at the soldier committing suicide like I WANT THAT OUT DAMNIT

He’s having such a meltdown!!

“This is just the way it is” is it tho 🤔

Oh no the Rio call. In front of Walter’s salad

I think the Rio call (where Alucard is doing all this grandstanding about being a monster with zero remorse and needling her about potentially not being up to making a tougher call) is actually really interesting after him reacting so strongly to the one soldier killing himself, and then seeming to lose his own resolve a little bit when he realizes he’s been so harsh to Seras.

Walter like “I’m only the butler… I an not engaging with this shit”

Elevator sequence 💖💖💖💖💖 It’s truly really good nonverbal storytelling

I love that Major monologues so much that no one’s even trying to talk to him, they know he’s just going to keep going.

“I’m called the Dandyman” and Alucard’s like. Did I ask.

“There’s absolutely no reasoning with you people” WHEN DID YOU TRY TO REASON WITH THEM

Pip 👏 gets 👏 shit 👏 done 👏

The show does such a good job establishing just how gross and disgusting Alucard is

Oof the arm scene 😬

The one panned out shot where Alucard’s drinking from Alhambra and his proportions are so fucked that he looks like an Adventure Time character

Alucard making Pip on the fucking hijacked helicopter with a gun to the pilot’s head while he monologues 😭😭

It’s so funny how seriously Dok takes everything whereas Major is just like “Hell yeah!! Mayhem!!!!”

Dok’s still bloody omg, it’s also all over his coat like front and back? Did he deliberately just splatter it for edgy aesthetic purposes?

I NEVER noticed that young Walter was placed with the Millennium characters in the end credits. It’s crazy that they have that so early lol

[mbrainspaz]

Dreamt I owned some kind of Airbnb lodge outside Austin so I drove out there for a little vacay and to do some maintenance. It was so cute and basically set up like a hostel, with a big open kitchen & sitting room at the front and bunk beds in the back. Two or three people were staying there and they were happy to meet my dogs. We cleaned up the kitchen together and then I noticed that my uncle had hired a contractor to fix the front wall. They’d made it into a 20ft art installation with layered colors of tile like a sunrise or water ripples. There were also a bunch of plaques with like ‘Faith and Love’ and other domestic bs on it so I thought, ‘well once we get those off of there it’ll be really nice!’ Then I went to the movies with my brother but they wouldn’t tell us when the movie started so I joined an illegal go kart racing squad doing races in the theater hallways. I was pretty good at it and won the respect of all the kids.

[susandsnell]

Nolancrow, 🌀

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

🌀 — from the number generator on google: 39 — heartache

One way or another, he would subject Bane to the toxin before their makeshift fiefdom’s clearly numbered days were through.

Crane knew himself well enough to understand that it was not purely scientific curiosity driving the quasi-suicidal impulse, a poor academic though it might make of him. He’d leafed through his own possible motives with the casual interest he might one of the psychology journals he’d stocked up on before mail service from the mainland was cut off, along with everything else.

Leverage, if he were to insist on his own mind for strategy, for contingency. One never knew when next the winds would change, what hat they’d have to don and allegiances they’d have to profess. We plant and sow, but only the good Lord gives the harvest, he had heard repeatedly as a boy, and loath as he was to recall the decrepit drawl, the best wisdom oft came from one’s enemies. Should Bane decide to turn on him, should the League’s progressive implosion since the death of Ra’s Al-Ghul accelerate, should the military or a miracle or the Batman (dare to dream, just where had he been?) show up – he would require the upper hand through the targeting of a weak spot.  Resentment through experience offered a less flattering reason for the burning desire. He understood most humans carried the base impulse to sling stones at a Goliath and emerge victorious, driven not the will of any God, but the will of the ego, by the pageantry of defeating that which incited primal fear – that which is bigger and stronger. Bane was more cunning by far than the schoolyard bullies of yore he had been made to endure, and more competent than the ruffians he’d had to neutralize during his stint in the drug trade. But a bully was a bully, highfalutin speeches notwithstanding, and muscle memory and scar tissue had bred in him an instinctive antipathy towards the burly. The axe forgets but the stump remembers; hence why it’s better and more fun besides to strike first.

Fun; the third possible motive. In the ensuing ruckus of the fall of Gotham (not that it ever stood, but who was he to deny himself an opportunity to tip the hat to Poe?), although Judge Crane had risen to the occasion, the Scarecrow had found unfortunately scant opportunities to stalk and strike. Inflicting fear with the bang of a gavel had its charms. But like taking a new lover while still longing for the old one, the magic just wasn’t quite there. 

What a sight it would make, Crane thought more than once, to see several hundred pounds of mercenary writhe and quail before him.  (He’d writhed above him once, keened a bit towards the end, but that had been but the purchase of some short-term insurance and the scratching of a mutual itch between allies, and nothing more.)

And wouldn’t it be hysterical to hear the thundering reverberations of such a skilled orator be reduced to screams of abject terror? He often reminded his people’s court that Bane has no authority here, but what greater delight could be wrung from making that statement literal – from making fear the true equalizer by inflicting it on a false one?

He'd assured the League his stores had been destroyed in the wake of their revolution, a half-lie, of course. He’d managed to salvage enough to be safe, enough that it could be replicated when the time was right. And the possibilities promised, were just too tempting to resist.

Administering the toxin was easy enough; as was ever the case for anyone who made it big in this city, the mask was the key. 

He knew the man’s hideouts; knew where he slept. Knew that the cannisters resting at the back of that skull held the analgesic gas piped into his lungs to keep those old injuries this side of tolerable. (Bitterly, Jonathan rather felt he could have used one of those in his adolescent years. Ah, well – this would be the next best thing.)

He also knew just which of their lackeys were corruptible, and which were easily cowed; a small slip of the hand into a tray scheduled for night-time delivery, and it wasn’t even his head that’d roll when the smoke cleared. As for what would happen when Bane inevitably put two and two together; well, that could be finagled later. Right now, standing over the hulking man’s prone, shaking form, donning the sackcloth once more, it was all about drinking in the moment. And what a moment it was; huddled over himself, that filtered voice whimpered and wailed and pleaded – not for mercy, for like himself, Bane had never known any. No, what he murmured over and over was not an ode to his tormentor, but a refrain of despair. 

“Talia,” he pleaded, once-powerful hands now outstretched as if in plea – as if to hold a limp frame. “My love, I beg you- ”

Talia, he said, and Talia, he repeated. A woman’s name - easy enough to guess the rest, before the endearments started pouring forth amidst the simulated grief. The Scarecrow tilted his head; a mockery of sympathy. Feeling audacious, he even petted his head.

“It’s such a shame she had to go the way she did, isn’t it? All that intellect, that conviction, that stubborn resolve…gone in a flash of fire and smoke, buried under debris.”  (He had felt no love for Rachel Dawes, of that he was certain, but her convulsions under the toxin’s influence were a kind of kiss - and there was something close to grief to be found in one’s beautiful nemesis dying at a hand that wasn’t one’s own.)

Bane agreed by way of a wail, which made him sputter a laugh at the sheer incongruity of his state with his persona. 

It wasn’t defeat Bane feared, nor was it betrayal, plague or even his own naked vulnerability. It was something far simpler - something that Crane was almost sure he himself had abandoned to his solitary, miserable youth - give or take a flash of red hair and a snarl of determination that swore he would only ever be alone. 

Heartache. 

[vgperson]

Vocaloid Highlights: December 2022

If it's dull... dash outta there!! Highlights Archive

========== Stand-Outs ========== Eat Sleep Play-Oink Poison Apple Imaginary Citizen CAT HOOD Cafe JazzySnow Spectrum Dull!! Nekommunication Orbit Lily Alert TWILIGHT OATH Dream in Darkness Fall with U Pinched BlackFlagBreaker!! Dash Outta There! Color Matching SnowMix♪ It's Not Christmas Clay Snow Neon Such a Fantasy Deception Unavoidable Cheese Each Time Beautiful Peacock

========== Worth Your Time ========== Out of Sight Tiger Girl Ceiling Observation Journal Love Song temp. Limit Mandala From Unending Winter With Love Aquatic Innocent Veil LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL Pipopuppet Orion Flame Light Veil Lily Aflame Mystery Highway Hypnosist Boule de Neige Venomous Snake Seaside Memory Zunda Will Be An Idol! You Won't Listen To This Song Anyway December Icy girl, love comes water Returning From the Witching Hour Anonymous Undead White crow Duo's Symmetry Strange Love Happy Wedding Tower Towabanaya Jesus Be My Guest Imitation Sermon Fragrantly-Blooming Water's Surface Education Theory CUGE!! Cliff Merry-Go-Round Soap Missing Star Parallel Highway Breathing at Planet's End Masterpiece Doesn't Matter Night Token Miniature Melt Into Mercuy Knight of Kairos Trade-Off Eternity E na Doctor White Night Irony Resilience Pathological Jealousy Interglacial Old-Folks Town Mind Numbing Legs For Whom Aten Pluto Nursery Etude Daedalus Won't Drop It For Me Hallelujah to the Night Sky ember Sweet Fish Living in Hell Canopus At Night Sweet Winter Polka-Dot Castanet Yet Resume Self Antithesis Seconds-Hand Strike Permafrost Research: 13th Month Wandering Log Now It's Fine. GOAT Silky Kashika illuminate (everyday) Update Present BRIGHT FUTURE Happy Merry Dress Blooming Bells 120 Misfortune Overflow Rust White (No Title) Star Field Dead Stock Science Pavlovian Love Ghost Romance Ever Green Gestalt Skyscraper Melantrick Hyperinflation Mercenary Scrapper Slumber Indeed Sinks Goodbye, Shoegazer Please Instruct Me? Earth Snake Good Kid and Kitsune

[kdjempire]

★ KDJEMPIRE's INTRODUCTION! ★

HI , HELLO , SOMEONE PLS BE MOOTS/FRIENDS W/ ME!!

★ Basic information !

You can call me Alex!!

I use he/him pronouns!

I love, love, LOVEE art^^

I write poems !

I'm aroace but also bisexual

I enjoy learning typology! (No the fuck I don't.)

★ Interests !

-Typology !! ♡ (i get typology crisis over the most little things i do that contradicts my typology a bit..)

-Cherry Crush

-Tamen de gushi

-poetry

-journalism

-Nana

-Black Clover

-ORV

-Honkai Impact 3rd

-Genshin Impact

-Honkai Star Rail

-Obey me!SWD? (Hey.. fellow Satan and Belphie kinnie here..)

-Obey me!NB

-Lost in the cloud

-Action mangas/manhwas

-Brutal (i love Dan sm he's so silly)

-Mercenary Enrollment (I LOVE YU IJIN SM)

-Project Sekai/Colourful Stage

-Bandori/Bang Dream

-Enstars

-Demon Slayer

-Anime/Mangas

-TCGF

-Chainsaw Man

-Identity V

★ Music Artists i listen to!

-Taylor Swift

-Ghost

-Lana Del Rey

-Siakol

-GreenDay

-Alex G

-TV girl

-MCR

-Radiohead

-The Cranberries

-Weezer

-Gloc 9

-Mitski

-Manowar

★ Current Typology

- IS(T) sp/so9(w1)62 SLI-2Te [R]c/U/eI mel-phleg FLEV⁴⁴⁴² /A/cTwd[E]g meph-phsa-meph PVBN (I relate a lil bit TOO much to my fixes so uhm yeah. Will prolly change sooner or later once i get another crisis again.)

(Ok yeah that's all someone be my moot/friend)

[doblehkiin]

❗❗❗Long ask jumpscare warning ❗❗❗

idk if you still want asks but I thought I would talk about my 14-year-old self's extremely self-indulgent edgelord. He's changed a lot but I still adore him.

His name is Wencen Loresaris, he's my Snow Elf rogue. I've probably talked about him before, but I wanted to talk about his gimmick.

Lore's character gimmick is that he's several cryptids in the various regions of Skyrim, later being both Listener and Guildmaster. No one knows that these entities are one person.

Some behavioral context; Lore is always on the move, and kills people who look at him for too long. The more they see, the more they can describe, and then they can notice patterns. Patterns lead to conclusions, and conclusions will lead to his own death. Kids are the only exception. Everyone else has to die. Also, Lore operates at night. In the day, he rests in caves, sometimes sharing the space with an animal. He also uses nature magic that is unfamiliar to

Secrecy + old, forgotten nature magic he uses to get by + being centuries old himself = folklore.

In Hjaalmarch, he's considered a good omen and protector. He guides lost children home by taking the illusory form of a wolf and sheparding them back to Morthal. This led to him being called Fenrisulfr, which means 'Swamp wolf'. As thanks, locals started leaving offerings in a ruin up north. After that, the next harvests were especially bountiful. Due to his protection of children and the wolf motifs, he's seen as an aspect or spirit of Mara. It's custom for newly-weds to make a pilgrimage to Fenrisulfr's ruins and leave some of the wedding dowry.

Falkreath considers him a specter of Sithis that takes souls into the void. The Brotherhood operating in the area enforces the idea. Rather than being a reaper, he's the Seedsman, as flowers sprout in graveyards when he's in the area. They're used to death imagery, but the shadow in the cemetery is seen as someone being taken from you a second time, and the flowers are from the person's true and final passing-on. As such, they feel bitterness towards the Seedsman, even if they honor that its his duty. The flowers left are thought to indicate what kind of person the deceased was in life. Black dahlias always grow from the graves of Companions. Falkreath seeks their mercenary work elsewhere, in recent centuries.

He is most feared in the Rift. Remember that bit about Lore being nocturnal, couch-surfing with animals in the day, and killing people if they make too much contact?

The Rift is popular hunting ground. Hunters tend to track their prey—which is typically nocturnal and asleep in the day—back to their caves.

Getting netted, shot, or dogs sicced on you by a pack of hunters—while you're sleeping—is considered too much contact for Lore.

The impact was the lack of witnesses or survivors. The only evidence of something killing hunters, was the hunters' journals. Sometimes one or two get away, and write about the Thing they disturbed. It's only a matter of time before the Thing catches up to them. Search parties only find a shakily-written tale of an odd, not-of-this-world Thing. This creature was called the Something. Veteran Rift hunters know to go for their prey in the open, rather than by surprise in its sleep.

When told these legends, Lore is known to laugh, cough politely, and remember he has an errand.

edgelords are the best kind of oc's imo i don't care if that's controversial we all need a good edgelord. we also just need more falmer oc's. I love every single falmer oc I come across.

I love that you incorporated like, rituals with him being a cryptid cause he could just be like, a normal cryptid that people just whisper about but firstly nords love them some rituals and practices so that makes sense, but also it adds so much depth to his role as a cryptid.

i wish i was a cryptid in real life, he really is living my dream life i'm so jealous

[woodsman2b]

Thanks to @brasideios and @myriath for tagging me! This sounds super fun!!

The rule is to post the first lines of your last 10 fics from ao3, or of all your fics if you're not at 10.

I'm going from the most recent to the oldest.

1 - Tales Of Dionysos

It's been a while since he last used it. A long time, he thought between barely muffled moans... As he bit his lower lip, Dionysos let himself slide down the olisbos once more.

It's a story that tells bits of the mythology of Dionysos through the lense of Hades Game.

2- Beer Slick

Workers from all the city were placing the last garlands over the streets when the convoy arrived, slow and noisy. Angles and Norwegians hand in hand, talking and chanting along the way. At the front of the cortege, Soma and Sigurd.

Here, 2 characters from Valhalla have hot interactions (involving beer) during a festival celebrating one of Eivor's first successes. Little hint: the characters are not Soma and Sigurd!

3 - After Class Lessons

It was a training session like any other. Zagreus was showing promise as usual, Achilles complimenting him on his ever growing skills. As they were tidying their fighting equipment, the son of Hades made a suggestion that left the warrior astounded.

Zagreus has a request only Achilles can honor...

4- In The Heart Of Ishgardian Winter

When Ser Aymeric de Borel finally decided to put his quill to rest, darkness had already wrapped the Holy City for a long time with its wintry harshness. Important documents, there would be plenty others to sign in the morning. But at this hour, no one would dare to come and disturb his sacred hours of serene slumber.

Sociability rules over Lord Aymeric's days, solitude over his nights... Until a long lost love reappears in his life.

5 - A Night With Brasidas

It's been a few days since Alexios had left the town of Athens and Demosthenes' warm bed. Sometimes at night, dreams of the polemarkhos caused him to wake up with an abrupt erection he had to take care of urgently. That was the sign he grew attached to the man… And needed to forget him in the strong arms of another one.

Does this need to be summed up lol?

6- A Night With Demosthenes

Once upon a time in Ancient Greece, a mercenary was providing his services to both sides during a hard fought civil war. Nothing particular, you may say. Yet he was not the usual sellsword as he didn't request any money.

The prequel of the one above. By now, you've probably guessed what the mercenary requires...

7- A Show For Dionysos

The big day was approaching, along with intensive preparations. Back home until the opening of the ceremony, Thaletas supervised the operations that would seal his admission into the syssitia, provided that his companions deemed him deserving of the honor.

Thaletas in his younger years, torn between duty and desires...

8- A Thirst To Quench

Mykonos and Delos had got their serenity back. The islands were firmly in Spartan hands since a certain misthios had led his ship to those shores.

Feelings that had been bottled for too long... Here is the story of two Spartans who have learnt to drink life and love straight from the source... A story involving Thaletas and Herodianos, a NPC from the Silver Islands. Many thanks to @brasideios for having given flesh to the man under the helmet.

9 - Unavowed Yearnings

With hindsight, the windy afternoon that was supposed to herald a new era for the Silver Islands had turned to a storm about to wreak havoc.

The prequel of the story above!

10- Encounter On The Storm Coast

The Storm Coast had never seemed to live up to its name as much as it did on that day, Aldarion lamented. The Grey Warden, who conducted a small expedition to find Stroud, understood better why the Herald of Kirkwall's ally had found refuge in this place.

This story has been inspired with the codex entry named A Grey Warden's Journal in Dragon Age Inquisition. The material was too good to be left aside...

Bonus...

The heat withered most of the poppies, he lamented as he cast his glance over the roadside on his way to Korinthos.

Those are from a story called Under The Canopy that's not published yet on AO3.

A Greek assassin will experience a lot on his latest mission...

And I tag @filifuck on this game!