#just the lore enthusiasts just have to suffer and work for it as they usually do in every fandom lmao

[saphflare]

Won't lie, I do think it is wild to think about the fact that probably a majority of people that enjoy Content SMP only know it from the videos on Youtube.

Like they don't know about the secret Arathain and Luxintrus tumblr lore posts, or they aren't in the Rattiest Gang discord to see the lore discussion where the ccs sometimes drop pretty significant teasers or answers regarding the server and its characters. Like they might know the overall story, but they certainly do not know the lore lore that like fundamentally changes how you see certain characters and certain plot points.

Like the fact that most people probably know the Mason as just a silly guy that just snuck in the increased netherite rates and was probably a decent dad to Lux, instead of the Wheelbearer that committed multiple atrocities, including kidnapping at least two children that he psychologically manipulated and subjected to a whole lotta trauma of the religious variety and much violence against (one of which is Lux), and that the increased netherite rates were part of some deal he made with Charter is slightly insane to me. Like just everyone acts like this guy just was there as a guy and that is the extent, when oh boy fellas you don't know the other half of it.

This is also not getting into like any other characters, though compared to the Mason, I can't say the perception difference for any of them is as signficant. But also yeah the Charter lore is also a whole nother can of worms that even I haven't been able to dig up and understand everything about in the discord. But people also keep mistaking Arathain as the characters and that the character that appears after Lux gets killed is not the Mason, but the Augur, who you only know their name if you read the most recent post from Arathain and also fucking ate Mouthpiece in the metaphorical and/or literal way.

Like I am glad that by itself the videos themselves show a clear and enjoyable story for the people only knowing about it from there, and that is the extent they might need to do to engage with it as a fan. But it is just absolutely crazy to me that like a significant amount of people that like Content SMP just will never know the extensive lore because it is never mentioned at all by the ccs themselves and you never would know unless you like happen to accidentally stumble across it and after a few times you get enough clues to try to actively look for it and suddenly it feels like you are now on a scavenger hunt for lore 😭

[hajimeiwaswife]

EGUZKILORE

Word count: 1,4K

Warnings: post time skip!Iwaizumi

Summary: Iwaizumi finds some strange items in his birthday.

'What an intriguing flower' Iwaizumi thought, looking at the sunflower-like plant in front of him. Entering his office at the training department of the Volleyball National Team of Japan, he found it on his desk, waiting for him with a little note under it.

"In the beginning of it all, everything was dark. Not a pinch of light could be appreciated among the darkness surrounding the atmosphere. Sorginak and creatures of the night used the lack of light to attack the people who lived in the area." read Iwaizumi, confused with the terminology and the story, "The townspeople, tired of the danger it supposed, took a stone each and went to Mari's cave in order to seek a solution. In exchange of the stones, Mari gave the people the Sun, protecting them from the evil creatures during the daytime. But it wasn't enough, as they continued to damage the towns at night."

Iwaizumi sought the rest of the story, curious as to what happened next. How did the townspeople survive the creatures at night? Who was Mari? What was a sorgina? He needed answers, but he also had to work, so he left the flower and the note in his desk again and left his office.

"Iwaizumi-san!" shouted an excited Shoyo, running to him in an eternal happiness and bouncing.

"Good morning!" continued Bokuto, following the ginger enthusiastic boy.

Like that, the rest of the team greeted him, he was loved and respected as their trainer, something he really appreciated, as he had worked hard to get where he was. In his 27 years of life his main motivation had been surpassing the annoying man he had for best friend, Oikawa Tōru; he was sure that team could make his dreams come true.

"Happy birthday, Hajime," suddenly said Shugo Meian, greeting the trainer and surprising both the players and Iwaizumi himself.

"Is it your birthday, Iwaizumi-san?" asked Shoyo, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes, indeed."

"We should celebrate! Bokuto, bring the wine!" exclaimed Atsumu, forcing the white and black haired guy to follow his orders. Sakusa, who was observing everything from his usual corner, formed a scowl under his mask.

"Miya, we can't drink during practice." reasoned Ushijima, serious, and nodded at Iwaizumi, "Happy birthday."

"Thank you." returned the gesture Iwaizumi.

The morning continued like that; Atsumu tried to convince five different people to drink with him in 'Old Iwaizumi's honour', Shoyo and Kageyama challenged each other to see who was the best at guessing Iwaizumi's presents ―receiving a scold from Aran, who had to suffer their bickering since first hour in the morning―. Hajime was used to having to take care of men in their twenties as if they were his own children, but he had to admit it was draining to have to look after Bokuto so he didn't end up electrocuted, incited by Atsumu, needless to say.

During lunch break, Hajime returned to his office to get his meal, which was in a Tupper inside his working bag. He took it out and headed to the door so he could go to the canteen to heat it up. That was until he saw another flower, like the one in he had seen in the morning, attached to the wooden door. Surprised, he grabbed it and found another note.

"The townspeople decided to gather and go to Mari's cave again. With a stone each, they returned to the Goddess' dwelling and asked to be saved from the creatures that attacked when the sun faded in the horizon. Mari, who was benevolent, gifted the people the Moon, so they could be protected at night." 'Ah, that makes sense' thought Iwaizumi to himself, "It worked for some time, but the creatures got used to the light casted by the satellite and started causing trouble again. The disturbing laugh of the Sorginak didn't let the townspeople sleep, and again, they gathered."

Hajime turned the page, waiting to find the rest of the story, but there was nothing left for him to read. He sighed, he didn't know who was leaving those strange flowers and those notes in his office, but now he demanded answers and he wanted them in that exact moment. But how? The was no one there to continue the story, not a single soul. Frustrated, he went to the canteen as he had planned initially.

The rest of the day proceeded without events, just a couple of phone calls from his family and friends, the team's shenanigans and his pursue of the end of the story.

With a tired sigh, Iwaizumi returned to his office for the last time that day, he needed to pick up his belongings in order to go home a drink a beer as he had wished ever since he got up of bed. Just in case, he searched for a flower and a note, finding them on the top of his bag. The difference was that the only thing he saw was the plant, but no note. 'This must be a joke', thought Hajime to himself, seeking the note as a mad man.

"The townspeople grabbed a stone each again and returned, for the third time, to Mari's cave. They asked for help and the Goddess answered 'This is the last time I'll be helping you, my dearests'." Hajime turned immediately to find you at the door, smiling slightly as you talked.

He had seen you and talked to you before, you were the translator and interpreter of the National Team and of the MSBY. He had to admit he found you attractive and very interesting, but his busy schedule made it impossible for him to actually being able to think about inviting you to go for lunch with him someday.

"In that moment, Mari created a bright flower, one that could be mistaken for the sun itself. 'This flower will grant you the safety you seek at nights. The Eguzkilore will protect you'. Ever since, you can find an Eguzkilore at the door of every Basque house, seeking protection and light." you finished, walking to him nervously. "Happy birthday, Iwaizumi-san."

"Thank you," was the only think the athletic trainer could say after a minute of silence. He was still processing what had just happened.

"Um, the flowers are for you," you fidgeted, nipping at your lower lip, "I gave you three for you front door at your house, another for this door and the third for, eh," you coughed, feeling his intense gaze on you as you talked "for your car. I hope you like it."

Silence reigned in the room again, the only sound that could be heard was Shoyo's and Bokuto's shouting from across the gym. Hajime looked between you and the three flowers in awe, wondering what to say so he didn't mess up and make you think he wasn't grateful for such a thoughtful ―and unusual― present.

"Do you, uh, wait no, not that," he started, trying to form a coherent sentence, "How do you know this story? Where does it come from?" he asked quickly.

"Oh, that," you nodded, taking a deep breath, "Well, I read about it a couple years ago, I found it cute and endearing how the Basque culture explained the, uh, you know, the existence of the sun and the moon. And I thought that maybe ―not that you have to―, but maybe you could... like it? I guess." you awkwardly stated, looking at everything but him, warmth overtaking your features.

Hajime nodded again, smiling slightly at your nervousness, he thought it was cute. He also thought it was thoughtful from your part to get him a present for his birthday, and decided in that moment, in mere seconds, his next move.

"Maybe you can tell me more about his Basque stories?" he asked, nonchalant, "We could go for a drink and, yeah, talk about them?"

You thought about it for a second, your crush was asking you on an informal date after you acted in, what you thought, was the creepiest you had ever acted. But he seemed to like it? Men were strange. You were glad, though, the meaning of the Eguzkilore was very beautiful and you wanted to share it with him.

"Yeas, why not? There are a couple more I could tell you."

"Settled, then. C'mon, I have my car parked near the entrance."

Like that, the both of you exited the gym in a comfortable silence, Iwaizumi keeping one of the Eguzkilores in his hands so he could place it in his car. You were thrilling, it actually stood out in a very original way. You looked up at him and he smiled at you in a breath-taking way, causing your hands to tremble in excitement: you were going to get some drinks with Iwaizumi Hajime!

"I have a question, though, what's a so-, sor, sorgina?"

NOTES:

Eguzkilore is composed by "Eguzki" = "Sun"; "Lore" = "Flower". It comes from the Basque, the most ancient culture and language in Europe.

Sorgina: it could be the equivalent to what we know as "witches". They are described as Mari's assistants, they are usually good, but sometimes are described as "disturbing". They were part of the Akelarres.

Mari: the main goddess of the Basques. To contact with her you have to leave a stone at her cave.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

The new Shadowhunter Academy - Fan Fic (Chapter 6 - Staying Alive)

Chapter 6 of the new Shadowhunter Academy (fan fic) is out! ;)

Kit & Ty are both at the Academy for a few days to act as guest lecturers :)

Dru is attending of course, and an unexpected guest might show up :)

AO3 link to Chapter 6 - Staying Alive

Link to entire fic up until Chapter 6 is here (fair warning - there is explicit content in Chapter 4 so skip it if you want to avoid it ;)).

****

Kit was ten minutes late. It wasn’t a big deal but given the students’ eagerness to learn from the famous Christopher Herondale, it seemed like hours of anxious babbling that he might not show up.

Dru was starting to wonder about that herself.

When the door of the training room finally opened, Kit’s cheeks were flushed, his blond curls soaking wet - as if he had just come out of the shower - and he looked… pissed. Like he wanted to be anywhere but in that room.

“What am I to teach you for the next hour?” He snapped.

“Spear?” Daniel, one of Simon’s mundane recruits, replied. He was an enthusiastic student who had been nicknamed “Harry Potter” on his first day at the Academy because of the resemblance he bore to the hero from the eponymous books (if said hero had acne problems).

“Oh, right. Spear.” Kit grumbled as he grabbed one from the table filled with multi-sized weapons and twirled it gracefully – the circle moves almost a blur – before instantly stilling it into a horizontal position in front of him. “See that pointed head? Well, you put that right through your opponent’s body. Preferably hit a vital organ.” He threw it toward the dummy placed at the far end of the room. The spear pierced straight through its chest where the heart should be. “Like that.” The students started applauding.

“That’s it. That’s the lecture.” Kit whirled and started toward the door. He stopped short before the figure of Catarina Loss barring the door. She looked furious, her blue complexion a shade deeper than usual.

“KIT HERONDALE, you go back in there and I don’t care if you look at your fingernails for the next hour, you are NOT LEAVING THIS ROOM.”

For the rest of the class, Catarina remained seated on a big granny armchair she had conjured up, in front of the door, knitting a tiny pink pullover (probably for Mina), while Kit told the students everything they needed to know about spears. As it turned out, he was an excellent teacher, and aside from technique, had several stories and anecdotes to share about these weapons, and their history through the ages. He certainly knew how to catch his audience with witty jokes and, yes, Dru had to admit, his Herondale charm and good looks.

****

He wasn’t what Henry had expected. Not by a long shot.

First, he looked nothing like his sister Drusilla, whom Henry shared most classes with. He had gray eyes - the color of iron - where hers were blue-green, and his hair was crow dark where his sister’s were a deep, warm brown. He knew that the Blackthorn siblings were born from two different mothers, but didn’t he have a twin who died during the Cold Peace, and who shared Drusilla’s traits? He had been too young to fight at the time but Henry had seen Julian Blackthorn on a big screen in Idris right before the battle of the Imperishable Fields and he definitely looked like his sister.

To be honest, when the rumour had spread that the best Centurion of his generation - and the creator of several groundbreaking inventions - had finally decided to make an appearance at the Academy, Henry had imagined a crazy inventor wearing oversized safety goggles and a dusty lab coat. Obviously not some Adonis, who looked like he belonged more on a runway than in a library or a lab.

Second, he was more than a little surprised to discover that he was shy and reserved, for a Blackthorn that was. His rigid stance and the way he kept stroking the pendant tied around his neck, to quote only a few tells, betrayed how nervous he was. The whole character was a mystery to him. If he had his reputation - hell, if he had his looks - Henry would probably be parading around like a peacock.

“I am curious. So we are going to start with a question,” the teacher said, his expression bemused and his gaze fixed above the students’ heads toward the far end corner of the room. Most of the time, Henry had noticed, it looked like he wasn’t really addressing them. “Why do you want to become Centurions?”

Several voices erupted at the same time, and he flinched, before lifting a halting hand. “Please. Speak when you are granted permission to.”

The voices subsided and several students raised their hands instead, including Henry.

“Gillian?” He asked as his gaze flickered to her. Henry realized that he never looked anyone directly in the eye.

“Because I want to study faerie lore, the real deal, not the load of crap they teach you at the Academy,” she said smugly, and most students sniggered approvingly.

The Centurion’s lips twitched but he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Henry?”

“Because we get to wear that hot uniform,” he replied, giving the Blackthorn teacher a slow once over.

There was a collective roar of laughter in the classroom. The Centurion just nodded, straight-faced, as if it was as good an answer as any. Henry realized that he was starting to like him.

“Shut up, Henry.” Her Highness Amber Cartwright said as she entered the class. She shooed a student from his seat in the front row and sat there. “I am sorry for being late, Professor Blackthorn,” she said in a sultry voice, as she crossed her long legs in an exaggerated gesture.

The teacher spared her a brief glance. Henry braced himself for the double take - everyone, boys and girls alike, did a double take upon beholding Amber for the first time - but... nothing. The Centurion’s face remained impassive. Moving on. There is definitely something off with him, Henry thought. He is either half-blind and not wearing his binoculars or one fucking hundred percent gay.

“Call me Tiberius. I believe we are all around the same age.”

Amber beamed, her usual scowling face alight. “Okay. Tiberius,” she said, her voice caressing his name.

“And you are…?”

“Amber Grace Cartwright,” she said proudly, as she brushed her fingers through her blond hair.

Tiberius moved to his desk and furrowed his brows as his gray eyes scanned the paper lying there.

“You are not on my list.”

Amber’s face fell a little. “I know, I did not initially register for these training sessions, but Talib agreed to give me his spot. You see, I changed my mind and I really really want to become a Centurion someday.” Henry wondered how she had managed to convince Talib. Only the twenty most promising students - among those interested in becoming Centurions, and Amber had never expressed such an interest - were allowed to follow the course and there was a waiting list.

The teacher just lifted a dark eyebrow. “Oh. Okay.” They all waited as he sat at his desk and started scribbling on the paper, dark curls falling over his face as he bent his head. He was nothing if not meticulous. At the start of the class, he had asked, one by one, each student’s name. Henry had the feeling he had memorized all twenty of them. “Xian?” He asked without looking up.

The girl’s eyes widened and she whipped her head right and left, wondering whether he really was addressing her. As if there was another Xian in the classroom.

“Yes, Pro- Tiberius?”

“You don’t need to pass that folded paper on to your friend Barbara, I can provide the answer to your question.”

“Oh.” She flushed a deep red, and hastily crumpled the paper that she had been clutching under the table. Henry wondered what the message had been about.

“The answer is no. I don’t provide my personal number to students, but if you want to communicate with me, you may either send a fire message or a letter to my attention at the Scholomance, depending on the urgency of the matter.”

His tone was even, his face serious, as if he hadn’t meant to humiliate the girl, but simply state a fact. A low chatter erupted in the class, students casting worried glances at each other. Henry wondered himself how the Centurion had managed to read Xian’s paper when he was seated at the desk in front of the class, a few feet from her. The only one who didn’t seem troubled by that was Amber, who turned to glare at her friend. Xian stuck her tongue out in turn. Oh, Henry thought. Let the Hunger Games begin.

****

After a short recess, the students had another hour of training with Kit.

“As you well know, Shadowhunters use Runes to heal faster when they are injured in battle. Sometimes, it’s all that you need. But other times, a wound needs to be tended before an Iratze is applied. For instance, if you have foreign bodies in your wounds, you have to take them out before using your stele. Except, of course, when it would do much more harm to retrieve them, for instance if it's an arrow. Also, and although you should carry a stele with you at all times, situations may occur when you are without them. Finally, although we have a stronger constitution and heal faster, us Shadowhunters are humans, and we suffer the same diseases as mundanes. We can faint. We can die of a heart attack. We can die of blood loss following a car crash. Therefore, it’s important - and Catarina shares my view on this - to train you in first aid.” A crooked smile lit up his gorgeous face, his blue eyes glinting mischievously. “So who wants to be my dummy?”

All students - save for Dru - raised their hands eagerly. Brianna actually elbowed the girl next to her so she would put her own hand down.

“Drusilla Blackthorn,” Kit announced, with a smirk on his face.

Dru rolled her eyes and came to stand next to him.

“I think it’s more efficient to work on the basis of real-life situations’ simulations. So, what happened to my dummy in this scenario?”

“She fainted!” A student said.

Several students giggled.

“Okay,” Kit said, then looked over expectantly at Dru.

She rolled her eyes again and mimed fainting. As she lay still on the floor, she wondered if he would consider them even after the demonstration or continue to make her pay for the trick she had pulled earlier that day.

Kit knelt next to her.

“Is she conscious or unconscious?” He asked.

“Unconscious!” Another student said.

“Dru, close your eyes,” he said. She did as requested, letting out a deep sigh. “Okay, so how do you check whether or not someone is unconscious?” He asked, and she felt his fingers brush her hand, then he pinched her. She swallowed a swear word.

“Dummy? Dummy? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, blink or move your fingers. No answer. So you can assume she’s unconscious. Next step: you have to check if she breathes.”

She felt Kit’s fingers gently cupping her chin and forehead and tilting her head backwards. He pulled her lips open. “Check the airway first. If the throat is clear…” His hair tickled her face, and the Blackthorn locket grazed her jawline, as Kit leaned over to put his ear directly above her mouth. “See what I am doing? I am checking for a breathing sound while observing the rise and fall of her chest. So, tell me, is she breathing?”

“No,” a student said. Dru recognized Brianna’s voice. You will pay for this, roomie, Dru thought.

“Okay.” Dru realized Kit’s voice trembled a bit. She opened her eyes and saw the conflict in his gaze. What was the matter? “If you are with someone else, that person must go fetch a defibrillator that’s now in every patrol car. If you are alone, you can’t leave the patient so you must call for help. Do not - and I repeat - do not leave your patient’s side to do that. You must practice CPR at once.”

Realization dawned on Dru. Oh, bugger.

“In a real-life situation,” Kit said, drawing the words out. “You should… take your patient’s shirt off or - more accurately - rip it open.” He flinched as he said the last words, but swiftly regained his composure. She had to give him credit for his professionalism. “You must give chest compressions on bare skin. In our case though…”

Dru smirked. “Didn’t think it through, did you?” She whispered to Kit. Seeing his look of dismay, witnessing him trip over himself, was surprisingly satisfying, and if there was something Dru never missed, it was an opportunity to play a prank. Especially when she had been the intended victim of the stunt. She just couldn’t resist. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she became reckless. Act first think later became her course of action.

“That’s fine”, she said out loud as she sat up. She pulled the top of her gear off before lying back, wearing only her bra above her gear pants.

There were a few gasps in the crowd. Kit gulped.

“First of all, make sure your patient is lying on her back on a firm, dry surface. If there is blood, move the body away from it. I understand Catarina already taught you how to deal with hemorrhage.”

A few students mumbled a confirmation.

“You should push on the chest at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute, which corresponds to the beat of several songs you can use to help you maintain the proper tempo.” He fiddled with his phone and the sound of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees started playing.

Dru snorted. Kit was barely looking at her as he plowed on.

“Position your hands above your patient’s chest, like this. Interlock fingers. Then, give chest compressions. Like this.”

Dru tried to hide a smile. Kit’s palm was sweaty against her bare skin. He was flushing a deep red, his face a mask of embarrassment. Punk’d, she thought. Had he known he would be giving chest compressions to Dru - that he considered like a little sister - he would have thought twice about using her as a dummy.

He stopped abruptly, after thirty compressions. “Okay, we are… going to stop here for today.”

“What about the rescue breath?”

“I’ll show you next time,” he choked, as he stood and almost tripped on his feet scouting back. It seemed like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

“Does… anyone have any questions on CPR before we move to another exercize?”

“Yeah,” Talib raised his hand. Shit. Not him, Dru thought. What the hell was he doing here anyway, wasn’t he supposed to follow the Scholomance training course?

Kit nodded to him.

“Is that the Blackthorn locket you are wearing?”

Kit’s mouth dropped open. Dru tensed. She knew that Ty had asked that they keep their relationship a secret. Only family and very close friends were in the know. Not because Ty was ashamed, far from it. But because, as a Centurion, he was entrusted with all missions related to the First Heir, and that would change as soon as the Scholomance found out how involved Ty was with the subject of his investigations. Ty didn’t trust anyone else with these missions, so he had begged Helen and Aline not to tell the Penhallows about Kit and him, even though the identity of the First Heir remained a secret to most. One could never be too cautious.

Watching his face fall, the glint of panic in his azur eyes, Dru started to feel really bad for the Herondale boy. She knew that if he had been allowed, he would have screamed his love for Ty at the top of his lungs, from the Academy’s roof. Instead, he lowered his gaze to his feet, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, it’s mine,” Dru blurted. “Seriously, Kit? I told you not to wear it at the Academy!”

Kit whipped his head up in surprise, his blue eyes wide and questioning. He looked like he was about to say something, but Dru wouldn’t give him a chance to deny. What was done was done. She whirled around and retreated to a corner of the training room, bowing her head in order to conceal the blush that had started creeping up her face.

****

“Do you know who founded the Scholomance?” The Centurion teacher asked.

Amber was the only one who raised her hand.

“Amber?”

“It was originally founded by an alliance between the Fair Folk and prominent Shadowhunter families.”

Most of the students gasped. Everyone turned a questioning look at Tiberius, whose lips quirked. “Correct. This is not common knowledge, to say the least. How have you learnt about it?”

“I read a lot and… I may have borrowed some of my brother’s notes. Cartwrights have been filling the ranks of Centurions for generations.”

“But…” Barbara said, looking confused. “I thought the whole purpose of the Scholomance was to investigate all Downworlders, especially faeries, since they are the Nephilim who possess the most extensive knowledge about them.”

“And where do you think the Centurions got their knowledge from?” Amber snapped.

“Why would the Nephilim create a school with Downworlders?” Xian interjected.

“About that,” Tiberius intervened. “The classification of faeries as Downworlders is not entirely accurate and has been challenged over the past few years. Contrary to general belief, some of the Fair Folk species do not have any demon blood. Maybe you’d like to carry on, Miss Cartwright.”

Amber pursued, with a smug look on her face.

“As the story goes, not long after the creation of the Nephilim, the Angel warriors and the Fair Folk made an alliance to protect the Earth from demon invasion. They shared their knowledge - the fey teaching the Nephilim how to use magic in the school they created together, a sort of real life Hogwarts - and even… consorted. After all, the biggest problem that the fey have been facing in the past centuries is the thinning of their blood. Why not mix it with that of Raziel’s chosen warriors? Ultimately, a union was arranged between the Faerie King and a member of a highly respected and powerful Nephilim family. Not all fairies were happy with the union and there was a secession. The Faerie lands were split between two courts from then on. The Unseelie court, choosing to acknowledge a Nephilim queen, considering her as part of the fey royal family, ara nothlir, and the Seelie court, refusing the Angel warriors’ influence.”

She paused to watch the effect of her words on the wide-eyed students.

“The Nephilim queen was not immortal but the King used his magic to stretch out her years. Although they were happy, they had to rule in troubled times. The strong divergence in traits, opinions and customs between the Fair Folk and Shadowhunters soon drew them apart. Raziel’s warriors criticized the fey for being cunning and strongly disapproved of the tricks they played on mundanes and the creation of changelings. Faeries thought Shadowhunters to be ruthless, overbearing and contemptuous.

The Unseelie king’s death - it came as a shock, everyone thought the mortal Nephilim queen was bound to die before him - without any heir being born from their union, was a fatal blow to the alliance. Unseelie laws were clear, the queen dowager no longer held any claim to the throne - the full fey blooded prince Arawn succeeded to his father - and she hid in Faerie under the protection of a few Nephilim who swore to protect her. They could easily be distinguished from the red caps as they wore black cloaks identifying them as Angel warriors. They were not sanctioned by the Clave though, which preferred to sever all ties to the Fair Folk. With the magic they had learnt from the fey, these protectors created an enchanted wall of thorns surrounding the tower where the Shadowhunter queen and her family lay low for hundreds of years.

When an heir was born from the union of the Seelie Queen and Unseelie King, most Nephilim took it as the last stroke of the Fair Folk’s betrayal. It didn’t help that there were whispers about a prophecy stating that the world would fall to shadow under the First Heir’s ruling. So began the witch hunt, the primary target being the cursed descendant. That’s how Centurions began to use the knowledge they had collected from their former allies at the Scholomance against them.

The chase officially ceased when the disappearance of the First Heir was officially announced by the Unseelie Court and the tensions between the Nephilim and the fey eased until they finally made peace with the signing of the First Accords in 1872. The Scholomance was closed then, as a show of good faith that Downworlders and Shadowhunters were no longer at war.”

“What has become of the Nephilim queen’s family?” Henry blurted.

Amber turned to look at him. She was positively gloating.

“They had nothing to be blamed for, so the Clave as well as the Fair Folk let them be after the signing of the First Accords. After all, they were a very influential family to begin with. So, they are still among us.”

“Who are they?”

“Before King Arawn changed the Unseelie Court’s sigil, the symbol was that of a full crown…adorned with a rose, symbol of his father’s attachment to the Lady of Roses,” she said mysteriously.

“The Nephilim queen’s descendants are known as the Rosales,” Tiberius specified evenly.

A low chatter erupted and the words “Inquisitor”, “Diego” and “Cristina” were thrown around repeatedly. They all knew the Council kept a lot of secrets, but the fact that the current Inquisitor belonged to a family that had forged an alliance with the fey in the past, confirmed how little they really knew about Shadowhunter politics.

“And what about their protectors?” A voice suddenly raised from a corner of the classroom.

Amber turned to look at the Centurion who nodded imperceptibly.

“Easy,” she said. “They were released from their oath a long time ago but they have kept their Shadowhunter names. Some say the earlier generations had sharp, elven features due to their closeness to - and interbreeding with - the Fair Folk. They were black cloaked warriors guarding the queen’s family like thorns protecting the delicate rose from its predators. They called themselves the Black Thorns.”

As the students suddenly burst into commotion, Henry’s gaze focused on Tiberius, who stood straight like an arrow, his expression unfathomable. He had a feeling there was more to the story but, whatever it was, Henry knew he would have to swear the Centurion vows before being allowed to hear it.

****

Being a Shadowhunter had major downsides. No matter how hard you tried to shut yourself from your environment, your highly trained senses betrayed you by fulfilling their role like obedient little soldiers.

Dru had never better understood Ty’s need for headphones as she weaved a path in the main hall towards the exit - she wanted to crawl in her bed and hide there until at least the next morning - and tried to ignore the glares and angry whispers that followed her.

“Seriously? Christopher Herondale and Drusilla Blackthorn? It’s like some stupid chick flick where the hot jock hooks up with the weird geek.”

“He’s probably with her because she’s easy. Did you see her take her shirt off in the training room like it was no big deal?”

“Oh, come on, every girl does that here. We’re warriors, we undress to draw Runes on each other all the time. And how is it different from when we train in sports bras when it’s summer?” Well, Dru was relieved to hear at least some girls had her back...

“It’s different when you have a pair of breasts like hers.”

“Right. Tell me about it. Best boobs at the Academy.”

“Yeah, I would definitely hit that.”

“You’re kidding? That girl’s creepy, I would be afraid to be strangled in my sleep.”

“What does he see in her anyway? She has a pretty face, but she dresses like a Goth freak. And don’t get me started on the size of her thighs...”

Dru never allowed anyone to say a single bad thing about her family and friends. But where her own securities were concerned, she was like an open wound anyone could poke. Dru bit back tears as she hurried her footsteps. She needed air. Fresh air.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped her head around. It was Brianna.

“Seriously, Dru? Why didn’t you just tell me before I made a fool of myself?”

“Brianna. I just gave him a necklace. I am not dating him or anything. He’s just a member of Livia’s Watch, that's all. Hence the locket.” Why had she not thought of that excuse earlier?

Brianna lifted her eyebrow dubiously. Dru felt her temper rising.

“Fine.” She snapped. “Believe me or not, I don't CARE.”

NNNNEEEEW YOOOORK. They both startled as the voice of Alicia Keys suddenly blazed through the main hall’s stone walls.

As one, all the students rushed outside to see where the noise came from. Brianna and Dru exchanged puzzled glances before following them wearily out of the wide double front doors.

Dru blinked and, when her eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight, tried to hide her shock as she took in the incongruous sight.

In the Academy’s front yard, a crowd had already started to gather in a circle around the main attraction, giving it a wide berth.

A splendid charcoal grey convertible car was parked at the center of it, as if it had appeared there by magic. "Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys was playing full on from the vehicle’s sound system.

Leaning casually against the hood of the car with his arms crossed was the tall figure of Ash Morgenstern. His platinum blond hair was peeking out of a green beanie and he wore an elegant gray cashmere coat that made him look like a British gentleman.

In the back of her mind, several questions buzzed like little alarms. Was he not supposed to be under house arrest? What the hell was he thinking showing up in front of the Academy ? Where did he get the car anyway?

But foremost in her mind was Ash. It’s Ash. It’s really Ash. How gorgeous he was - even more so than she remembered - and how she had never felt more relieved to see anyone in her whole life. She had missed him, she realized with surprise.

Ash straightened up and gave Dru a crooked smile as soon as he caught sight of her.

She couldn’t help it, she ran to him and threw her arms around his slender neck, burying her face in his chest. He smelled of aftershave, a sophisticated fragrance of amber, sandalwood, mandarin and jasmine. Ash stiffened at first, obviously startled by her sudden display of affection, then relaxed and squeezed her tighter.

“If I had known I would receive such a warm welcome, I would have broken out of jail sooner,” he whispered in her ear.

She drew back and shook her head disapprovingly, though a grin was still plastered on her face.

“What on earth are you doing here, Ash?”

“I have come to rescue my Queen.”

“Rescue me? From what?”

“Food poisoning, of course. You told me it was awful here. I was in the neighborhood and it just so happens that I know a perfect French restaurant in Manhattan.”

“And so you decided to break out of your confinement and show up at the Academy in a flashy sports car?”

He shrugged. “I thought it would be a more inconspicuous way of traveling.”

“Inconspicuous? Really? As compared to what?”

He raised a silvery eyebrow. “Flapping my dark wings?”

“Where are you going with my sister?” Ty demanded with a frown as he marched towards them, his voice louder than usual, probably due to the headphones covering his ears.

“Manhattan. For dinner.”

“It’s not safe,” he said, then glanced at the vehicle. “Is that an Aston Martin DB9 GT Volante?”

“What’s not safe?” Ash asked. “My company? The car? The whole idea of a crazy night out?”

“All of the above,” Ty answered, his gray eyes like saucers, still fixed on the car.

“Oh, so now you care about where I go and who I am with?” Dru intervened.

Ty’s gaze snapped back to her, and his eyes crinkled in confusion.

“Of course I do. Why do you ask? Wait- Are you… angry with me?”

“Of course I am! I had to find out you were at the Academy by eavesdropping on fellow students!” She was grateful the music was loud and the observers far enough that they could not overhear their conversation.

Ty’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “But... But I wasn’t sure I was coming until this morning. I didn’t want to tell you before I was certain. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

“Yes, Ty, I am happy to see you. But I started at the Academy months ago, and you have only decided to show up today! We both know who convinced you, and it certainly wasn’t me.”

The look of hurt on Ty’s face almost made her regret her words. As if on cue, Kit suddenly appeared, coming from the opposite direction to where Ty was standing. Dru realized with a pang that they were purposefully avoiding being seen together and maintaining a safe distance between them.

“Hey guys, I think I missed the invitation to the party,” Kit said playfully, but Dru knew him and could sense that his heart wasn’t in it. He was just trying to ease the tension.

“You didn’t miss anything,” Dru replied sharply. “Ash and I were leaving.” Ty opened his mouth to object but she cut him. “And you, Ty, do not get to tell me what to do.”

“Where your safety is concerned, I do,” Ty snapped back, red starting to creep up his white neck. His hands were now fluttering at his sides.

“If you’re worried about her safety, Ty, why don’t you come with us?” Ash offered in peace. “You too, Kit. Raziel knows we all need to… let off steam.” He looked like he was holding in a laugh and Dru wondered whether she was missing a private joke.

Ty’s gaze flickered to Kit then, and their eyes met for a brief second before they both hastily looked away. They were clearly blushing now, Ty nervously stroking his heron pendant and Kit thrusting his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet.

“I can’t,” Kit said, kicking a pebble. “I have to stay here where I am protected. Catarina and my parents will kill me if they know I left the Academy’s grounds.”

Ash raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Kit. Who would you rather have as bodyguards? Me and the badass Blackthorn siblings?” He said, gesturing at their little group. “Oooor… these frightened little squirrels posing as Academy students?” He pointed toward the crowd of students who were still gaping at him. And the car. But mostly at Ash.

“I guess you have a point,” Kit conceded.

“Okay,” Ty answered hesitantly, looking away.

“Then jump in, Angel warriors,” Ash said as he opened the door for Dru. She ignored it, and instead, grabbed the edge of the back door to jump inside and landed on the front passenger seat. “What? I have always wanted to do that!” She told him when he lifted his eyebrow at her. Ash laughed and shook his head as he rounded the car to take the driver’s seat. Kit and Ty crammed in the back - the space had definitely not been designed to hold two full-grown Shadowhunters - and immediately stared out the car, pointedly avoiding looking at each other.

Ash put the Aston Martin in gear, as the students parted to let them through. The engine's roar was deafening, almost drowning the sound of the music still blasting from the sound system. Dru felt exhilarated, gusts of wind carrying away all her resentment and worries as they blew her hair. Everything was perfect… save perhaps for one thing.

“Ash,” she called over the noise. “Can you turn the music down?”

He threw her a puzzled look, his hands tightening on the wheel.

“Why? I thought you’d like it. We are in New York after all.”

“It’s not my hometown,” she observed, winking at him.

He grinned as he fiddled with the dashboard and suddenly 2 PAC's "California Love" was booming full volume.

“Better?” He asked.

Her answering smile was so wide it almost hurt her cheeks.

“Not just better. Perfect.”

[vaire-gwir]

Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.4

I wanted to write why Aiden didn’t kill humans anymore, so here it is, I tried. At least it can’t be worse than that horrible attempt at smut, right? Right? 

Everytime I think I’m finished with this I get new ideas and I have to write them or they keep me up at night. There is plot if you squint, still not canon, but as always, I hope it makes sense and you like it <3 

Edit: Sorry I forgot the title, you wouldn’t believe how stupid I am. 

***

Alps were a bit of a pain in the ass to kill, just like every other vampire. Tricky, loud, and cunning things they were, not incredibly dangerous but granted to give you a good rattle and one hell of a headache. Years ago, he shared his first kiss with Aiden after they cleaned a nest and now he thinks about it every time he's disposing of one. It's weird, cause who would think of sharing a first kiss in front of a pile of dead vampires, but it was one of his best memories.

Then again, the first time he told Aiden he loved him, the Cat was almost dead in a grimy cave, covered in blood, and Lambert was panicking cause the gash under his ribs was bad enough that no potion in the world would buy him the time to find a healer.

Toussaint didn't disappoint him: three days after arriving in Beauclair and he was already waiting for 200 easy crowns. The prospect of payment should be enough to lighten his mood, but his mind is elsewhere, namely on the black cat running around the garden he saw last night before entering the crypt where the Alp was praying on ladies and princesses. Another cat, another pair of stunning green eyes, another painful twist in his heart. He even asked the guard currently stationed outside about it and the idiot said there were no cats on the property, something about ruining the lawns or whatever, as if Lambert didn't see the animal with his own eyes.

It was the second beast with disturbingly familiar green eyes that he saw, and it's two cats more than what he had seen in months. Lambert wasn't even sure if he was hallucinating or if the boy was making fun of him when he said there were no cats. Maybe both. Is this what happens to people that go mad, they start seeing things, they hear voices, and next they're wandering in villages alone at night muttering nonsenses? 

Is this what is going to happen to him, he'll start seeing cats with green eyes everywhere and people will pity him? He was already hearing voices in his dreams, this was just one step further toward insanity, and the path to get there looked suspiciously short.

Lambert picks himself and his headache up from the tomb and walks to the marble arch covering the entrance of the crypt, where an over-enthusiastic guard is waiting for him, hopefully with his money.

"So, is the beast dead? You must have been very brave!" Lambert would laugh if his bones weren't aching so much. He knows that look: he's too young to know that what witchers do has nothing to do with bravery. Even the night before with all his questions he made the job sound fascinating and charming, probably someone didn't explain to him the difference between Witchers and knights in shining armor. He was hoping to see a hero but all he got was a dusty, cranky and hallucinating witcher with the beginning of a headache throbbing in his skull. Not exactly the heroic stuff fairytales are made of. There was nothing charming about this life.

Lambert ignores the voice and grits his teeth at the sudden burst of light and sound that overwhelms him as soon as he steps onto the paved path that leads to the house. Being subjected to the creature's horrible shrieks and screeches for half of the night has his nerves fried and now everything is too loud and too close even if it's barely past dawn. He wants to hear nothing but blessed silence for the entire day or he's going to seriously hurt someone.

"I'm curious, have you been here before?" Lambert starts moving in the general direction of the mansion chasing the promise of quiet and the soldier scrambles after him. He's still staring expectantly, as if he thinks he's owed something.

It annoys him, that for one reason or the other people are gawking all the fucking time. He learned to disregard it with experience but he never fully discovered how to ignore the stares. His brothers get them too, and he knows for a fact that it often bothers Eskel, but for reasons unknown to him, Geralt never seems to give a fuck. He's slightly jealous of that talent. He'll see them next winter if he's not completely out of his mind by then.

When they finally leave behind the crypt where he just killed the Alp, Lambert has regained enough presence of mind to check the garden again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the black cat he saw earlier but it's like the feline has disappeared from the face of the earth. 

The luxurious garden that surrounds the old house is perfectly still, the gardeners are not at work yet, the only note is the faint buzzing of birds. He tries to catch any sound or scent resembling the one he felt before but it's like the cat was never here. Probably he wasn't. What if there was no cat at all and his mind was just playing more tricks on him? He's not sure Witchers can go insane, he can't recall any lore on mad witchers, but maybe he'll be the first one, just his usual luck. He tunes out the noises around him, trying to detect a trail of the animal when the voice of the guard breaks his concentration again: "You have been here before, haven't you?"

Regular people seemed to have a hard time shutting up, he should know this after an entire winter with Geralt's bard, the Gods know he never kept quiet for more than 10 minutes unless he was sleeping. Maybe he even talked in his sleep, go figure. It's not like he asked Geralt. 

"I've been everywhere. Listen, I'll take what I'm owed and leave. Got things to do." Lambert answers this time just to make him shut up. No one needs to know that the things he has to do include tracking down a disappearing black cat. That is if there was one at all.

"Oh, of course, you must be very busy. Here it is, though I think my Lord wanted to see you tonight, throw a feast for the Court, but if you insist you can't stay it's better to..." "I can't." Lambert takes the velvety pouch and stuffs it in his pack, eager to put some distance between himself and the rambling man before him. He knows all about feasts in Beauclair, he suffered through them enough for a couple of lifetimes already. 

He's about to turn away when the guard exclaims: "Wait, I remember! You were working for Lord Launfal with the other Witcher, green eyes, very pretty thing, if I say so myself, you..." He makes a pitiful weak noise as he doubles over himself, words dying upon his lips as blood trickles from them. Lambert is on him in a second and pins him to the nearest wall, he's not thinking about anything except that he wants to hurt him. Before he knows, he's hitting him again and again, driven by some fucked up instinct kicking in cause this idiot is talking about his best friend and he has no right to do so, especially not in that way. He doesn't get away with describing the best person in his life as a pretty thing, not in front of him, not like that.

"Shut your damn mouth, you don't fucking know what you're talking about!" He can hear the faint sound of a bone breaking over the boy crying "Please," and "Stop," and spares a look at the bloody mess he made of his face. He lets go of him as if he's been burned and he sees the guard collapsing to the ground. He fucked up. 

He feels like his mind is swimming and he can't focus on anything but the blood on his hands. He stares at the unconscious form slumped against the wall and takes a step back, streaks of red marking the gray stone. Lambert knows he went too far. His hands moved of their own accord when he realized that man was talking about Aiden. A pretty thing, he said. Lambert can't tell why those words were so painful, but it felt like pouring salt into an open wound. 

Of all people in the fucking Continent he had to run into someone that remembered him, of course, he had to meet a guard that was here the last time he was in Toussaint with Aiden, cause apparently the universe, chaos and the Gods were having a field day of messing with him. Again.

He spares one more glance to the guard just to make sure he's still breathing, collects what he's owed and leaves in haste. When the boy wakes up and tells everyone what happened Lambert knows he won't be spared. He almost killed that stupid boy, not much he can do about it now. He just wanted him to shut up and stop talking about Aiden, the fucker didn't even remember his name. 

He's past the iron gates when he finally manages to stop his hands from shaking. It scares him how dangerously good it felt for a couple of minutes to make the man shut up, it scares him to the point he just wants to forget it happened. For a short time, he felt like he had complete control over something, and that was rare for him. He enjoyed being in charge, knowing that whether that man lived or died was in his hands, it was like playing God and winning. It was like having a choice.

He may have a couple of hours before someone decides to hunt him down, which is plenty of time to find work. Before taking the Alp contract Lambert overheard in a tavern not too far from the market about an archespores problem in the valley where a certain Lord keeps his precious vineyards. With a little bit of luck he can go back to the main square and someone will point him in the general direction of this new Lord's palace. He just needs a few hours, and then he'll have the perfect excuse to stay out of Beauclair for a while.

***

Lambert prefers the nights when sleep eludes him, they're more peaceful than the ones filled with ghosts and blood, or as close to peaceful as he can get. He was never very good at meditating like his brothers, something about how his stupid brain would not shut up long enough for him to fall into a proper state of reverie. Both Eskel and Geralt never had any problem with that, he had seen Geralt kneeling in the same spot without moving until morning, absolutely unbothered by anything that happened around him, as if he was in his own world. 

In a patient attempt to help him, Eskel told him once that meditation works better if you try to recall a state of peace or calm you already experienced and lose yourself in it. Peace and calm was not something Lambert ever experienced, at least not back then. Not before Aiden.

The room he's currently occupying is surprisingly comfortable, he even had a bath, but his brain still refuses to relax. Finding his next contract proved a little more complicated than he expected, he wandered around the narrow streets for a good while before arriving at the indicated house, growing more anxious by the hour, expecting someone to chase him down at any turn of the road. Luckily the man he found outside a heavily guarded black gate was the old farmer in charge of the orchard, and he was as eager as him to go back to the valley. 

Lambert joined him on the trip, but he instantly disliked the place: whoever needed that much security was not just a simple vineyards owner. Thank Gods the old man was not the chatty type, and they reached the old castle in silence just before nightfall. When they arrived the farmer pointed to a small house next to the main castle, told him to find an empty room and disappeared immediately after. Lambert was grateful for the silence.

He washed the blood and the dust out of his clothes but he couldn't wash the feeling of it from his hands, his ears still ringing with the sound of some bone cracking as he hit that stupid man just for talking about Aiden. 

Lambert feels weary and worn but it's not because of the vampire last night. It's not the monsters that tire him: killing is easy, but the rest, traveling, talking, living and functioning in a world where he has no place, it all leaves him drained, that type of bone-aching exhaustion that's beyond physical, it keeps you awake even if you're spent and it gnaws away at your nerves.

He still can't figure out why Aiden would go after (possibly) two griffins all on his own, the Cat was careless and a bit reckless but not completely stupid. He was pretty smart about his work, he had to be, all things considered. Aiden was the one that at the beginning insisted on how they should stick together just because some jobs were easier that way. 

Besides, he was supposed to spend the last week before spring traveling north with the Caravan. There was no deep sympathy between Aiden and most of the other Cats, cause many were not particularly pleased with his decision to stop taking contracts on humans, but traveling together was still supposed to be safer. Lambert tried for days to put the pieces together but the more time he spends thinking about it, the less everything makes sense: Karadin told him he was there when it happened, but he finds it hard to believe he killed the two monsters all on his own. 

Lambert remembers one winter Eskel and Coën went off to fight a pair of griffins in the mountains and they came back three days later, bloody and with a good amount of soon-to-be-scars that needed to be patched up immediately, a broken shoulder (Eskel) and four cracked ribs (Coën). He had seen what griffins can do to experienced Witchers, there was no way a Cat the same age as him disposed of two monsters like that without any serious injuries. He even had time to take the medallion! And if it was not just the two of them, how did Aiden sustain wounds that couldn't be fixed by two or three other witchers for the short time it took to get to a healer? Griffins were only dangerous to humans when they ventured past the mountains and closer to the villages, which meant they were not too far from the possibility of getting help.

His brain keeps churning an explanation, keeps conjuring up different scenarios but nothing he can think of leads to Aiden's death.

Lambert knows Aiden killed people too, but most importantly he knows why he stopped. They both found out very early in their relationship that confessing things in the dark, naked and hidden by the blankets, worked for them. They could say whatever was on their mind and come morning things were still fine between them, they could look at each other's in the eyes without shame, cause things said in the dark were like spirits disappearing with the sun, they couldn't hurt them anymore. The ghosts of their pasts and their fears had been there, and now they were gone, chased away with burning lips and soft touches. It was during one of those nights that Aiden explained why he couldn't kill humans anymore.

They were back at the inn after killing a striga but two innocents died and Lambert knows Aiden blamed himself, he could feel how shaken he was in the way his kisses were almost too harsh and he was tearing away at their clothes. Aiden tastes of something almost-burnt when he's angry, but much later, when Lambert hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, sore in all the right way even if he'll never admit out loud that Aiden fucks him even better when he's like that cause he's less gentle, the taste is gone, and only the honey remains. That's when he can start talking.

The Cat told him that he was fine with being considered a monster by everyone else as long as he didn't feel like that. He was just doing his job and it was not his fault people were too judgemental and prudish to accept that, it's not like he asked for a mage to play with mutagens and mess up his blood. He woke up one day outside of Stygga and he was too young to have any memories of how he arrived there. 

He didn't remember his family, or where he was born, his first memories were of the Cat School, there was nothing before that. He liked to say he had no past, but everyone has it, and they're usually running away from it. And no future too, cause there were not many options for a witcher. Still, not his fault the same people he worked for, the same ones that begged him to get rid of a monster or paid him handsomely for killing a problematic cousin, were also the first ones to throw stones at him or ask a Lord to imprison him cause he was a danger for the town. Not so much of a danger when they needed him for their dirty deeds. But people were quick to forget and even quicker to point their fingers, and after so long Aiden couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. 

He didn't feel like a monster just because they said so. But he certainly felt like a monster for killing innocents. He was taking away their choice just like a mage took away his. He was no better than the people he despised so much.

It all started when he was sent to kill Lord Darnay cause his own family decided he was no suitable successor to the name and heritage they represented. Aiden was presented with 1000 crowns to get rid of the unwanted heir, and he was not in the position to refuse. His last contracts were unsuccessful, he had run out of money weeks before arriving in town and now even his potions were running low. It should have been an easy job, kill a dumb Lord who probably never hold a sword in his life. It should have been easy, but that's not what happened.

Right after entering the royal chamber, Aiden faced a wide-eyed kid staring at him. He was no older than 7, maybe 8 years old, but he was not terrified, a little surprised yes, but not scared as everyone would be after seeing a stranger entering through their window. No one mentioned that this Lord Darnay was a fucking child! There was absolutely nothing in the world this boy could do to represent a problem, for anyone, he was barely old enough for school for fuck's sake. 

The knife in his hand felt like lead rather than silver. The room was utterly silent, Aiden looked at the kid expecting him to scream, but he didn't. He simply said: "It's my turn now?" Aiden stared back disoriented, he refused to believe this kid understood why he was there.

"Uncle sent you?" His throat was not fully cooperating and he had a hard time finding the words to answer, he nodded, the dagger in his hand felt heavier by the minute. The kid sitting up on the huge bed keeps worrying a loose thread in the blue blanket above him, he speaks as if he's confessing a terrible sin. "He doesn't like me. He did something to my father but I'm not supposed to speak about it. Dad was very brave. Are you brave?"

Brave, as if! He was sent to slit his throat, that was not bravery. Brave means you have a choice, he never had one. He could choose between Ghouls and Bruxae and humans for his contracts, that's how far his decisions could go. He could pick whether to stay with the Caravan and risk being killed with his brothers or he could travel the Path alone and be killed by a monster or zealous townfolks. At best, he could decide how he dies, certainly not how he lives. No one with a real choice would turn into what he is or do what he does. 

In that room with the boy, in the deep silence of the night with a sliver of moonlight illuminating their surroundings, Aiden felt like a monster. He hadn't felt that way in a long while. It was the first time he was sent to kill an innocent, all the others were different, he felt that the assholes he was sent to murder deserved to finally meet their fate. Not this time though.

A servant entered the room unexpectedly and held back the scream already on his lips. He frantically moved his gaze between the child and Aiden as he started muttering something about how Lord Havilland already killed his own brother. Finally, he understood.

He was sent to kill this kid so a rich Lord could become even richer and more powerful. He couldn't fake another hunting accident so he sent the Witcher to do his bloody job. Great, just great. Nobles and their obsession with money and titles, what did they even do to deserve all they had? Killed someone, won a tournament, led soldiers to be slaughtered in a war for a nameless King that didn't give a fuck about them? They had wealth, titles, castles, a legion of slaves and mages at their service, and yet it was never enough, they wanted more, more wealth, more slaves, more titles, more. Disgusting. They could be anything they wanted to be and yet they decided to be awful.

Aiden spared a glance toward the kid and decided right there and then that this kid was not dying because his uncle was an asshole. "Another one will come to finish my job, he can't stay here." The butler is faster than what he gave him credit to be and answered immediately: "I have a sister in Oxenfurt, she can take care of him." 

"Go then. Get as far away from here as possible." True to his word, the servant took the child and was out of the door in a heartbeat, minutes later Aiden saw them riding past the southern gate. He didn't feel worse, at least and that will have to do for now. The kid will live to see another day. His uncle won't though.

[radianhazbin]

Not all demons have a rainbow in their heart

Authors note: This story is very graphic, and may not be suitable for every reader. Also, this was my first fanfiction, that I’ve ever wrote on Hazbin Hotel, and it was the first fanfic that I’ve wrote since around 2 years. Even I don’t like it that much. But right now, I sadly have no time and/or ideas to write a new one. But soon, I will be writing all over the place again :)

Also also, this story doesn’t stay true to the HH lore to the end. So because of that one little detail, I will say it’s an AU, even if it’s just that one single thing that’s changed.

So, after all of this, I hope you will still enjoy this fanfiction!

---------------------------- 

It was early morning in the Hazbin Hotel. It has been two days after the defeat of Sir Pentious, and since the Radio Demon, Alastor, moved into the Hotel. Charlie woke up to the red sunbeams that shined through the window of her room. She rolled around, and noticed, that Vaggie was still asleep next to her. She gave her a kiss on the cheek, rolled around to the other side of the bed, and slowly stood up. One stretch later, the young princess found herself in the bathroom of the small apartment. After washing her face, and getting ready for the day, she smiled to her reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe today. Hell is a big place after all. Someone will check in eventually.” She said to herself with confidence.

She opened the door to the corridor, looked back one last time, to see her girlfriend, still asleep. Charlie smiled, and silently closed the door behind her. She walked down the small, cranky staircase into the Lobby of the Building. She stepped into the large room, and looked around. Husk was blackout drunk at the bar, and lied unconscious on the counter, with a bottle of cheap booze in his right hand. Angel was asleep on the couch, with one half of his feminine body hanging from the side. And Niffty was… Somewhere. Charlie had no idea where she could be sleeping. Or even if she needed any sleep at all. The only other figure that was missing was the Radio Demon Alastor. But to be honest, the young girl was quite relieved to not see him anywhere.

“Goooood morning darling!” Screamed a voice from behind her. It sounded like an old timey radio. She turned around in an instant, and saw the gigantic grin of the Radio Demon, just inches away from her face. She stepped back before answering with a slightly shaky voice: “Good morning Alastor. How was your sleep?” She asked while turning around again, to open the front door.

“Ohhh, just magnificent! Thank you, young lady!” he jumped in front of her, stopping Charlie in her way, “And how was your rest?” He asked her, while bowing down, to be on eye level with the girl.

“Good, thanks”, she replied, while carefully stepping around him.

She made her way to the front door, while Alastor still tried to talk to her.

“Are you awaiting any guests, my darling? Or will this be another boring day?” he interrogated her.

“You still don’t believe in me, do you?”

“Well, of course not! Once a demon, always a demon!”

Charlie left out a disappointed sigh.

“Not all demons are inherently evil. And I will prove it to you soon enough!” she called out.

“Well that’s what I call passionate! Although I would call it naive too! Maybe even stupid!”

“You can think what you want.” Charlie muttered to herself.

Soon she stood in front of the big entrance to the Hazbin Hotel. She took the silver keys out of her pocket, and unlocked the door. The heavy glass door slowly swung open, and from one moment to the other, a slim and shady creature stood before her. It was around twice as high as Charlie, and wore a long, oak brown coat, that hid almost its entire body. She slowly looked up, flying past his black, shimmering shoes, the long coat that was buttoned up just above his waist, and up to his chest, where she could make out a white shirt beneath the mantle. And finally, she saw his head. A human like face with pale skin. His hair was tousled, and the right half of his face was covered in bandages. He looked down at Charlie.

“You’re the girl from the news.” He said with a very monotone, and deep voice.

“Y-Yes.” Charlie muttered out.

“I heard demons can get.. Rehabilitated in this place. A chance to leave hell.”

“Y-You heard right!” she said enthusiastically.

“Can I check in?”

“O-Of course you can!” she screamed out. Her face, went from scared to happy within seconds.

She quickly stepped around him, and threw her arm around the figure. 

“Husk! Wake up you drunk idiot! We've got a guest!” she screamed across the room, to wake up the drunk demon. 

“Huh? What the fuck?”, he mumbled, with his gritty and rough voice, while slowly lifting his head up from the counter. 

“Hmm, don’t scream like that. Some people are trying to sleep.”, Angel complained while rolling around, turning his face away from the room and into the soft pillow of the couch.

“Well, that’s something new. A customer!”, screamed Alastor out in surprise. 

“He’s a guest.” Charlie corrected him. “Our first guest of many more to come! I’m so happy!” She let go of the man, and danced a quick pirouette in the middle of the room, never losing her grin, that went from ear to ear. 

“I saw your little song in the news, but I assumed you would just play a role. Are you always this disgustingly happy?”, the man asked grim.

“Uhm, yes! I mean,” she hesitated, and played with her fingers, while she tried to think of something to say. “You’re our first guest! I’m just a little nervous.”

With a grunt, the man proceeded to walk to the counter, where Husk was slowly sobering up. 

“Urgh, name?”, the still drunk demon asked.

“Caleb.”, the tall man answered.

“Here. Room 104. Welcome to the…” Husk began to think. Snipping his fingers, to desperately find the name of the hotel he was working at.

“To the Hazbin Hotel!”, Charlie screamed and swung her arms wide open. 

“What’s with the screaming down here?”, a female voice questioned into the lobby. It was Vaggie, who was coming downstairs, while rubbing her right eye.

“Vaggie! You wouldn’t believe it!”, Charlie jumped around her girlfriend, grabbing her by the waist, and pointing with an open hand towards the first guest of the Hazbin Hotel.

“I introduce you to Caleb!” She turned her head and closed the gap between hers and Vaggie’s eyes. “Isn’t this awesome?!” she asked, still overly excited. 

“I guess so.”, Vaggie turned away, and slowly moved towards the big figure. 

“So, Caleb. What brought you to the Hotel?”, she asked while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Caleb, who didn’t even looked at her yet, replied: “Salvation, I guess. I’m tired of this shit down here. The screaming, the death, the suffering. So I thought that I maybe give it a-”, he turned his head, and stopped in the middle of his sentence, when he saw Vaggie for the first time. “try.”, he finished.

“Is something wrong?”, she curiously asked.

“No. You just-”, a short pause, “reminded me of someone.”

“Really? And who would that be?”, she interrogated him.

“Nobody you would know. I think.”, he said, while undressing his coat, and hanging it onto the dresser.

“Well, maybe we should get to know each other better?”, Charlie proposed, “So Caleb, my name is Charlie, aaaaaand, I run this whole thing. This is my girlfriend Vaggie-”, she pointed at the girl, who still had her arms crossed, and looked at Caleb with an disgusted face, “This is Husk. He’s our bartender and welcomer.”, Charlie lost energy in the last word, when she saw, that Husk was unconscious again. “Anyway! We also have Niffty, who I didn’t find anywhere yet, but is around here somewhere! She’s our housekeeping, so to speak, hehe.”, Charlie let out a nervous laughter. “And this-”, she moved her hand in Alastor’s direction, “Is Alastor!”

“The fucking Radio Demon?!”, Caleb screamed out in fear, “Are you fucking kidding me, girl?!”

“Ohh, don’t worry my big friend! I have nothing evil in mind! I just like to watch Charlie’s dreams getting destroyed and eaten by an vicious demon!”, Alastor screamed out happily.

“Interesting choice of words, Alastor.”, Angel pointed out, while slowly getting up from the couch.

“Uhm, and this is Angel dust he’s our… Uhm-”, Charlie tried to find the right words. “Hotel whore.”, he finished her sentence, “For just a little amount of money, I can make you feel, real good.”, he whispered, while rubbing against Caleb’s shoulder. 

“Uhm, yeah, no. Thank you, kiddo.”, he refused. 

“Your loss.”, Angel said smiling, while going back to his couch.

“So. Are we getting started? And if so, how exactly?”, Caleb questioned Charlie.

“Well.. We can start right now! If you want to.”, she explained

“Great.”, he replied.

Charlie, moved him upstairs, into a small room, where they sat down at a small table. She moved an old, dusty, armchair onto one end of the wooden table, and a clunky wooden chair onto the other. Charlie sat down on the wooden chair, Caleb settled in the armchair. 

“So, why are you in hell?”, Charlie asked.

“I don’t know. I guess because I killed some girls back in the 60’s. You know, drove next to them, at night, offered a lift, then kidnapped them, took them home, killed and ate them.”, he explained.

Charlie cramped up in her seat, still a smile on her face, but visually scared. 

Caleb continued: “I never raped them tho. I’m not that kind of sicko. Just a clean kill. Fine, maybe a little bit of torture here and there, you know? But only on the ones I didn’t like. And then the usual. Cutting them open, sometimes they were still alive at that point!”, he let out a small laughter, “Ahh, but then I would exempt the body, cut out the brain, ate the heart raw, and the rest I kept in my freezer for later. But the heart… Yeah.. You have to eat that raw.”, he drifted away, “That taste of someone who lived sheer moments ago is just… Incredible.”, he proceeded to explain. “But I’m getting off topic. Well, I didn’t really have any use for the bones, so I usually just hid them in the woods. The skin made really good clothing, and the rest was all edible. But then one day… Some bitch ratted me out. She could escape and tell the cops, before I could finish her off. I got cocky and didn’t torture her enough. I mean, I cut out her left eye, and debreasted her.. But the blood loss wasn’t enough. She managed to run away, and tell the cops. And what did I do? Huh. Followed her, and rammed my hatched into her back, right in front of the officer hahaha! Well, he shot me 3 times in the head.”, he finished.

Charlie still scared and cramped up in her chair, slowly calmed down, and sat down normally again. 

“A-Alright… Hehe, uhm…”, she struggled to find her words, “How did you feel, when you commited the murders?”

“I felt alive. I loved it. And I would do it again any time!”

“Oh… Okay. I Didn’t expect that answer, but… We will get there! We will make you a good boy again! Don’t worry! You will be out of here, in no time!”, she assured him with a smile.

The night came quickly. Charlie trained the entire day with Caleb. She tried to give him something else to eat, trained him to be nice to people, and to cook something else than human flesh. But when the night came, and the hotel went to bed, it showed, that maybe, not in every demon is a rainbow in their heart.

The door slowly opened, and what followed where big, clunky steps. Charlie was sleeping tightly, next to her girlfriend, and didn’t notice, the large shadow, that lied itself over the two. The creature stepped around the bed, onto Vaggie’s side.

“You fucking bitch.”, he whispered to himself.

Vaggie slowly opened her eyes, and saw the man standing in front of her.

“Caleb? What’s going on?”, she asked, while rubbing her right eye. 

He didn’t say a word. He instantly jumped down, and pressed a tissue with a substance into her face. She resisted for a few seconds, before falling unconscious. Caleb looked onto the other side of the bed, and saw, that Charlie was still sleeping. He looked down at Vaggie again.

“Now you’ll get, what you fucking deserve.”

he dragged her out of the bed, downstairs, deeper into the basement of the hotel. He tied her up, and threw her on the ground. She woke up just seconds after. 

“Huh? What the fuck? Where am I?!”, she screamed at the man.

“You thought I forgot? You fucking bitch brought me down here!”, he screamed, while kicking into Vaggie’s stomach. She coughed in pain.

“What the fuck are you talking about, asshole?!”, she yelled at him.

“What do you think, woman?!”, he grabbed the bandages on his head, and ripped them right off, revealing three holes in his skull. “You did this to me!”, he accused her.

Then it slowly came back to Vaggie. Why she was down here in hell. She remembered the face. She remembered the pain she felt, when her eye got removed from her skull. When her breasts were ripped off without a warning, and the pain she felt, when the hatched slammed into her back.

“You…”, she whimpered. “You son of a bitch! You’re him! You’re this asshole who killed me!”, she tried to jump up, and tackle him, but without any luck. She only managed to get onto her knees, what Caleb used to kick her right in the face. 

She fell to the ground again, with a bleeding nose, and tears in her eyes. Then she heard the unseathing of knife.

“Get the fuck away from me!”, Vaggie crawled back slowly, but soon hit a damp wall.

“No running away this time, bitch.”, he stated, and shortly after, he jumped down.

He stabbed her belly numerous times, over and over again. Blood was spilling out of every hole in the women's body. She screamed for help, but nobody came. She was going to die in this basement. It was going dark, very dark. She saw the face of Charlie in front of her, smiling, being happy. 

“I love you Charlie.”, she said with her last dying breath, before she closed her eyes. Forever.

Caleb stepped up, and examined his work. Vaggie’s body lied before him. Covered in blood. He bowed down, and dragged the body back into the middle of the room. He untied her arms and legs, and began to cut open her stomach, when he heard a voice from the outside. 

“Vaggie? Where are you? Are you okay?”

It was Charlie. But the man had no time to think of a plan. His clothes were drenched in the blood of the young women too, and before he could really think of anything, the basement door swung open.

“Vaggie? I heard screaming and-”, she abruptly stopped when she walked into the scene of the murder. 

“V-Vaggie?”, she asked out of breath. Tears began to form within her eyes, when she walked towards the body, with shaking legs.

“V-Vaggie? Please, answer?”, she whimpered out. Then she looked at the person beside the body.

“C-Caleb… What have you? Why have you? I can’t… Wha….”, she couldn’t find any words to describe what was going on inside her head. She fell to her knees, and soon, the tears, began to fall. She was crying and sobbing, with a hanging head, while Caleb slowly stood up.

“Well. I guess you were wrong, hehe. Some demons don’t have a Rainbow in their heart. You’re truly pathetic. Thinking this stupid hotel would change anyone. I wasted my entire day, trying to win your trust. Damn, I’m almost as stupid as you are!”, he laughed out loud.

“You didn’t… This isn’t happening…”, Charlie cried.

“Oh, you better believe it. What did you expect? We’re in hell! This relationship wouldn’t have worked anyway. You should thank me!”, he pointed out.

“You son of a bitch.”, she whispered.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, what now?”

“You son of a bitch! I will fucking kill you!!!”, She jumped up, and ran with full speed at the gigantic monster. He readied up his knife, trusting, that in her blind anger, she would just ran straight into it. But when she closed in, the knife just shattered on her skin. The shards of the blade rained down on the ground, when in the next moment, he felt an unbelievable pain in his face. He flew across the room, and slammed against the rear wall. Caleb shook his head, wondering what just happened. Then he turned around and saw Charlie running towards him. She jumped on top of him, and punched him in the face, over and over and over again, until his head resembled nothing more than a mashed potato. 

Charlie let her head sink down again. She looked at her hand, which was dripping with the blood of the murderer of her girlfriend. 

“You son of a bitch.”, she whispered to his body.

She slowly got up, turned around and carefully walked towards Vaggie’s body. 

“V-Vaggie?”

No reaction.

“It’s me, Charlie. We can go back to sleep now.”, she whimpered under tears, but still trying to set up a smile.

“Come on, wake up. We can even have some fun if you want to.”

Charlie stood next to the open body of her girlfriend. She kneeled down, and lifted her head up from the ground and rested it on her thighs. Charlie slowly stroke through the hair of her lost love. 

“I love you, Vaggie.”, she cried, “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”, she said, while her tears fell down to Vaggie’s face, rolled down her cheeks, and dripped off into the puddle of blood that had collected on the ground.

She failed. She was wrong. Because,

Not all demons, have a Rainbow in their Heart.

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

So, now I want to say thanks to @nightsoulvixen for hosting Varlie week! I enjoyed it quite a bit, and hope, that something like this will be hosted again in the near future! :)

[shirtlesssammy]

Clap Your Hands if You Believe: 6x09 Recap

Then:

Souless!Sam sure looks soulful when he’s telling Dean he doesn’t care about him.

Now:

***X-FILES ALERT***

Before this recapping nerd was a Supernatural fan, I was (and still am) an X-phile. I’m pretty sure I stuck out the early seasons of Supernatural just because I knew Kim Manners worked on the show. This episode doesn’t usually ping my top 5, but it’s special.

It’s as special as the night the cold open couple was having before the boyfriend, Patrick, disappeared in a cornfield.

Literally cue knock-off X-Files theme.

Sam and Dean head to Elwood, Indiana and interview townsfolk, including Wayne Whitaker, Jr. (played by Robert Picardo. Ignore the famous character actor in the corner. Move along.) about the strange abductions. Wayne is decidedly Team UFO, the local cop doesn’t believe anything supernatural is amiss, and one nice lady believes it’s fairies! Dean is diplomatic and thanks the woman, and Sam calls her out on the ridiculousness of her stance. This episode was Peak Souless!Sam. GOLD EVERYWHERE.

Dean tries giving Sam a lesson in Souls 101, but Sam really needs to sign up for the PhD course. Sam asks if he’s just supposed to fake it? Dean, the master in this, affirms, “Yes, fake ‘til you make it.” (Here’s to Dean not needing to fake it in season 13.) And to help him out, Dean will be his Jiminy Cricket.

The boys head off to interview Patrick’s father. He’s less than accommodating to their questions, insists his son was “taken”, and tries to kick the brothers out of his clock making workshop.

His son has been missing for weeks; he’s not coming back. Dean leaves his number for the man to call them with any information. Once he’s alone, the clockmaker looks to the side --at nothing-- and asks, “Is that alright?”

The brothers split up. Sam stays to watch the watchmaker, and Dean heads to check out the crop circles. Once at the crop circle, Dean gets a call from Sam. It seems Mr. Clockmaker is just drinking his night away at the local diner. Sam wants to talk to him, and before Dean can really talk him out of doing anything, the Impala shuts off and Dean sees a glowing light from the sky. “UFO! UFO!” Sam calmly tells Dean to stop yelling. Lol. “CLOSE ENCOUNTER! CLOSE ENCOUNTER!” While Dean is screaming about empathy, Sam orders another beer. The light finally catches up to Dean, and even with all weapons drawn, Dean disappears into the bright light.

With his call cut short, Sam enjoys his beer and male gazing at the waitress. He does eventually make it to the cornfield to find his brother’s dropped cell phone.

He then finds a small enclave of UFO believers, and starts to ask questions. He finds Wayne Whitaker and asks how to “get them.”

Sparrow, another UFO enthusiast approaches their conversation, and hears Sam admit that his brother was abducted.

Sparrow: Your brother was abducted?

Sam: Yeah.

Sparrow: Oh my God.

Sam: It’s fine. I mean, I’ve had time to adjust.

Sparrow: Did it happen when you were kids?

Sam: No, like, half an hour ago.

Oh, Souless!Sam, never change. He tells Wayne that he sucks, and walks off. Sparrow follows, offering her help, and a flirty smile.

Back at the cornfield, Dean reappears screaming, with knife and gun still fully engaged. Cut to him making it back to the motel room to find Shirtless!Souless!Sammy in bed with Sparrow.

Sparrow makes her exit, but not before asking Dean about his abduction. “They were grabby, incandescent douchebags. Goodnight.” Sam senses Dean’s anger. Dean was barely gone an hour, and Sam ends up in bed with “Patchouli”? Sam corrects Dean: He’s actually been gone most of the night. And that fits with a lot of UFO lore. Sam insists that Dean tells him what happened. Dean is disgusted with his own story but admits that there was a bright, white light, and there were beings pulling him towards a table. “A probing table!” “God, don’t say that out loud!” Dean had a close encounter, and won. He’s gonna take a shower now.

The next day, Sam and Dean break down the existence of aliens.

Well, Dean does while Sam checks out the bar’s waitress. (And check out that shot: The El Sol sign is there. I get it, the title of this episode reveals it’s not aliens, but I do love the story the set design tells every week.) And this whole scene where Sam questions the correct actions of someone who just lost their brother to an abduction ---and Dean’s insistent, “Yes, you sit in the dark and feel the loss!” Sam’s final exam essay: “So you’re saying having a soul equals suffering.” (And Dean’s notes on that essay: “I’m saying it’s the only game in town.”) Bwaahh. This whole scene sums up Dean Winchester so well.

As the boys leave the cafe to research UFO lore, Dean sees a strange man staring at him through the window. Sam doesn’t see him.

Sam does research in the library, Dean does research in the motel.

For Nostalgic Science:

I know these are just mock-ups for the show, but just doing a random search on the X-Files revealed that Angelfire is still out there! Angelfire! Ah, those were the days. My X-files webpage was on Geocities, and with much relief alas, the Wayback Machine didn’t crawl it back in 1998.

Sam tells Dean that there’s a lot of lore in the library but he’ll be heading back to the motel soon. Dean continues his research, while fittingly listening to “Space Oddity”. The lights flicker off and Dean mutters, “Not again.” The door flies open to reveal a glowing orb of gold. Dean tries going for his gun, but the creature stops him, and close up Dean gets a good (“Nipples?”) look, before it takes a nice swing at Dean. In the ensuing fight, the music crescendos, and Dean nukes the little monster.

Once Sam gets back Dean triumphantly shows him his kill...only Sam can't see anything in the truly disgusting microwave. “You don't see the...EEUCH? It's right there?” Sam doesn’t see all the “Blech.” The next person who stays there is going to be eating some disgusting burritos, man.

Dean tells Sam that he nuked a little, glowing, hot naked lady with nipples and everything. Sam asks if the little lady had wings and when Dean admits he's bang on the money, Sam tells Dean that a fringe theory could fit their case. The abductions aren't from aliens – they're from fairies instead.

The Winchesters head to Marion, the crazy fairy lady's home where she sets out tea in fine china and explains the many different types of fairies. The fairy dimension is another reality and only those who have been to Fairy can see fairies on earth.

The woman says the fairies only take first born sons. Her theory? They're taken to Avalon to service King Oberon. Dean looks sobered by this revelation and asks Marion how they can “forcefully interact” with fairies. Fairies love fresh cream, hate iron and silver, and spilled sugar or salt compels them to count each grain.

Dean and Sam spot the watchmaker loading up his car with cream and follow him back to his shop where he unloads the cream, then takes off again. They split up, Sam tailing the watchmaker while Dean scopes out his shop. Dean breaks into the back and finds a shop filled with noise from...tiny toiling hands. The workroom is full of tiny workers wielding torches, using drills, and otherwise kicking some ass on the clockmaking front.

Dean leaves the store and frantically calls Sam. The shop's “freakin' full of Keeblers” and now Dean suspects that Brennan the watchmaker made a deal with a bunch of fairies. Sam approaches Brennan in the bar and compliments his watchmaking.

“Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say you have a bunch of elves working for you.” Brennan looks up guiltily and Sam goes in for the kill, asking how he could stomach the loss of his first born son for a bunch of watches.

Back on the street, Dean spots the man in the red hat who follows him down the street, ominously...

Back at the bar, Brennan confesses to Sam that he'd desperately summoned fairies a few months ago. He ended up with a leprechaun who promised him wild success as long as they had a place to rest and enjoy “the fruit and fat of the land.” It turns out that their price was the first born. Brennan wanted to undo it, but his spell book is locked in a safe in his shop - and it’s guarded by fairies.

Cut back to Dean who's still being stalked by the man in the red hat.

Dean hides around a corner and jumps out on a man who is NOT the red hat guy. While the man’s (who has dwarfism) horrified young daughter looks on, Dean wrestles him to the ground, shouting all the while about fairies... When Sam runs up Dean is getting arrested. “You fight those fairies,” Dean yells, about 90% on the way to a total breakdown.

In the jail, the police chief interrogates Dean. Just what kind of hate crime is this? “If this gentleman were a full-sized homosexual, would that be okay with you?” Dean protests that he doesn't hate any size person – or anyone who's homosexual. Well, as it happens the man he attacked is the District Attorney for the county. Whoops…

Dean paces his cell while Sam and Brennan sneak back into his workshop. They creep to the safe, the workers all drunk on cream, and Brennan pulls out his spellbook. He begins an incantation to send the fairies back to their realm until he's suddenly stabbed through the heart. It's the great Robert Picardo! ...uh, I mean, it's the leprechaun and UFO enthusiast, Wayne.

Sam summarizes Wayne’s M.O. Fairies make a deal and settle in to stay, abducting first borns merrily. All the while, Wayne's in town stirring up UFO nuts as a cover for fairy activity. Wayne chuckles at Sam's accusations. True, true, all of them. And he's here to stay. Furthermore, Dean's marked as belonging to the fairy realm, and Sam can't actually see him if he doesn’t allow it. Wayne disappears. Neener neener neener. (Listen, do I want a follow-up episode with fairies dealing with Dean being marked for the fairy realm? Yes, yes I do.)

When Wayne reappears he tells Sam that he's “missing a certain piece right in the center.” The human soul is something that the energy-obsessed fairies can sense. They can't sense that with Sam. Wayne tells him that he could fish his soul out of hell for a price.

“There no frickin' way a leprechaun can do what angels can’t,” Sam scoffs. Au contraire, Wayne protests. Angel mojo is no match for “real magic” born from fairy. Sam doesn't bite at the deal and shoots Wayne. His iron buckshot has little effect and Wayne poofs out.

In jail Dean looks up, sensing a disturbance in the Force. He looks around to see the man in the red hat smiling at him from his prison cot. The red cap (for that's what he is) starts beating the shit out of Dean while Sam tangles in a fight with Wayne. Sam's not doing so great but has a brainstorm. He pulls out a salt bullet and pours salt all over the floor.

Wayne snarls and settles down to count the salt, giving Sam the chance to finish the spell. All the fairies, including Wayne and the red cap, disappear.

Later, on a back country road Sam and Dean share a beer. The “tiniest D.A.” has dropped the charges, letting Dean go free. Dean wonders if what the leprechaun said was true – if he could save Sam's soul.

Dean asks why Sam turned down Wayne's offer to get his soul back and Sam insists that deals are always bad. Dean asks if Sam still wants his soul back. “Sure, yeah, whatever,” is essentially Sam's response. The camera lingers on his brooding expression...

(By the way, I feel like I see this photo used as an iconic Sam/Dean/Impala image? But it's actually Dean and Soulless!Sam and that's...kinda sad actually.)

Close Encounters of the Quotes Kind:

There's something out in the corn.

Okay, if you want to add glitter to that glue you’re sniffing, that’s fine, but don’t dump your whackadoo all over us.

Third kind already? You better run, man. I think the fourth kind is a butt thing.

You just gave her the silent 'how you doin'?'

You're the one who pizza rolled Tinker Bell.

It's like Sedona, Arizona crap in here.

Fight the fairies!

Got a way of getting in back doors.

[toomanycharr]

Character list (WIP)

Character list, will have bios added at some point. Not currently complete, I have forgotten a few. ((Edited 07/10/2017 - added genders.) Really should add all my characters but there are just so damn many)

The Xyx Brigade

(Xyx is my favourite and main character, and I have many AU versions of them. Oop. All Ash Legion.) 

EU

Xyx Blacklunar (main) - Male. Lieutenant of Lunar warband. Lazy ranger who gets his bird (Rat) to do all the hard work.

Xyx Blackrune - Agender. The ‘real’ Xyx. A Gladium ranger-turned-engineer who makes tiny drones and dreams of being something more than she is. Puns, self-depreciating humour, and mental illness.

Xyx Blackbrand - Female. WIP, really. I just made her for renegade, tbh.

NA

Xyx Blackruin - Female. Young Xyx. A naive charr ranger who doesn’t quite know how hard a soldier’s life is, just yet. Weak as hell. 

Xyx Blackjaeger - Female. Sentinel. Very high opinion of herself, and not without reason. She could probably benchpress you. Ruthless on the field.  Xyx Blackbriar - Male. Chronic pain and cooking

Blood EU

Nenqe Furywatch (Main) - Female. Iron-Blooded Soldier of Fury Warband. Adamant guard hater - Guitar maker / player - Blacksmith - Shield Enthusiast - Fatty fat.

Yaxa Oozemaw (Secondary) - Female. Angry Legionnaire of Maw warband. Anger issues - Mesmer - Focusing on illusion and heavy-handed attacks.

Apnea Spiritmaul - Female. Pretty charr, will kick your ass. Flirtatious and egotistic. Spirit Warband’s Scribe.

Sergi Spiritclaw - Female. Probably the mother of half of my charr. Old asshole, hates most of her cubs. Became an adoptive warband mother of Weirdfolio’s Lirae, treats her like the perfect cub she never had. Forced into Spirit Warband by her Centurion, hates it.

Tabus The Displacer - Male. He looks cool? No character as of yet.

NA

Mayall Stargazer - Female. Soldier of Star warband. The ‘good cop’ of the duo, being very friendly and approachable.

Hoag Starcrusher - Male. Legionnaire of Star warband. Not a nice guy, and does not give a shit about you or your opinions.

Volca Slashthroat - Long Bio - Female. Centurion and Professional arsehole. 

Iron

EU

Eris Spiritheart - Female. Half-Legionnaire of Spirit Warband and twin of Arcturis, has never gotten over losing her girlfriend, Vanessa. Sort of depressed, and learnt the way of the Revenant so she could perhaps one day speak to her beloved once more. A lot of Spirit’s think this makes her unsuitable for the role of legionnaire, so she shares the duty.

Arcturis Spirtmaw - Male. Half-Legionnaire of Spirit Warband and twin of Eris, A worry-wart and mom-friend. Will always be there for his friends, and will always chop off someone’s head for them, too. 

Bess Havocether - Female. Soldier of Havoc Warband. Cannoner and child of two aetherblades. Grew up on the ships, but got herself lost on a mission- saw what the Aethers were doing and was disgusted, so deserted to the Legions. Very untrusted, still.

Seamstress Kombucha - Female. A tailor, making a living selling garments to any cloth-wearers that may want them.

Klovan - Male. Gladium scum. He tries so hard to get into a warband but no one will take the poor bugger.

Artois Earthshaker - Agender. A charr elementalist who became slowly encased in stone. Now looks more like an earth elemental. (Sort of not RP)

NA

Auxantios (Secondary) - Male. Alchemist. Knew killing the elder dragons was a bad idea, is very ‘told you so’ about that fact. Makes poison and stuff. Probably the ash-iest iron legion ever.

Aries The Obstinate - Female (MtF). Transgender charr lady, and guard of Stonemist castle. Dies a lot, but hey, she’s already in hell the mists.

Luluzure Vividwrath - Female (MtF). A pretty charr with no real lore. I didn’t even make her! Probably something simple like a farmer. Kangra Silverbrew - Female.

Ash

Speldan (Main) - Agender. Part of the Tyrian Expedition Companionship, often ends up as the cleaner. Spends most of her time cleaning the ships and lugging around heavy materials. Has a pet moa named Screech, who is a noisy little bugger, and talks to him a lot.

Congou (Secondary) - Female. An eccentric drake-breeder who has a lot of wanderlust and no self-control. Often ends up who-knows-where in search of new breeding stock.

Tamika Dustshot - Female. Bullied by her peers due to her low, smooth voice, Tamika moved to Divinities Reach where she now is a renowned jazz musician. Very well groomed, pretty rich, and mostly liked. Close to Xyx and Temac, and has shelled out a LOT of her money to keep Temac safe.

Temac Gemstrike - Female. Thief of the notorious Gem warband (Which is more of a thieves guild?) Out to steal the rarest and finest, sell it on, split the profits. Also runs a shop where she sells seedy stuff and also rare, expensive stolen items. She does not know it, but Tamika buys most of her stolen stuff and returns it to keep her out of trouble.

Rauch The Brusque - Intersex, she/her. The loneliest charr. Lost in Magumma after the passing of her warband, Rauch hopes for nothing more than to feel the closeness she once had. She won’t let it be known, though.

Taube Lunargleam - Male.   Medic of Lunar warband .Guardian and battleaxe nurse. Will cut your leg off and scorch it until it’s not bleeding if you tell him you got a bruise. Doesn’t really understand that other people feel pain- doesn’t do what he does because he’s evil, he just doesn’t understand. How he got to be medic, no one knows. (Please replace him I don’t want Xyx to have no arms or legs)

Kallisti Smokehunt - Female. Another pretty charr with no real lore. Oops. 

Toucha Blacksnow - Male. Soldier of Black warband. Born and raised by charr adventurers in the shiverpeaks, sent to serve the legions in the citadel. It’s ALWAYS too hot for him.

Teague Blackblade - Male. An old, scarred sentinel who suffers from PTSD. He has retired to a farmers life, and tends to ramble.

Worina Blackweld - Female. Legionnaire of Black Warband. An old guardian with a hatred of, and unfortunate knack for, healing. 0 sense of humour.

Galao Blackcandle - Male. Quaestor of Black warband. is usually found cooking for his warband on missions, and seldom fights. When he does, you wouldn’t guess he is not a fighter- specializing in stunning and taking a foe out quickly.

Malaya Blackheart - Female, we guess?? Soldier of Black warband. A silent thief, who tends to follow her legionnaire until there’s a fight to be had.

Breve Blackeye - Male. Disgraced soldier of Black warband. A drunken hobo whose unfortunate past lead to a hatred of asura. Extremely volatile and unpredictable. Drinks to forget the horrors he faced whilst being an inquest test subject.

Spinel Blackcarve - Female.

Kallias Blackgrog - Male.

Flame

Geier Hearthhew - Male. Cub.

Syn Thunderstalker - Male.

Legion Deserters

King Tyant (Tyant Flayclaw) - Male (FtM).

Glistertooth - Male. HALLOWEEN 

Falk (Missing) - Male.

Human

Tiffany Salter - Female.

Theo the Serpent - Male.

Tea Apnea (Non-RP) - Agender.

Sylvari

Teacae - Agender.

Aries Hellebore - Agender masc???

Norn

Tea Ursinnehare (Non-RP) - Agender.

Non-RP / Jokes / Memes

Badly made fursuit - Female.

Cant be charrsed - Male. (Actually a really good looking character hot damn I wish I could RP him.)

Overdunked Rich Tea - Intersex.

Salty Tea - Female.

Spoopy Booplesnoot - Male.

[ash-etherwood]

GUESS WHAT THE GIRLS ARE BACK IN TOWN.

Who are The Girls? you might ask. The Girls aka The Century Riders are a bunch of disabled cyborg magical girls with electro powers and belong to @lets-face-it-im-cute and me. Their story, Century Riders DXPrototype, was finishd two years ago with 1100 pages, 24 chapters written by Maus and 26 by me. It was one of the first stories I ever finished and definitely the longest to date. These gals mean a lot to us and I haven't drawn them in ages, so I thought I might do this thing and draw them in my current style.

Mayoko/Alpha is the leader. She is pretty happy-go-lucky and optimistic, but also kind of a tomboy and a giant comic nerd. She's basically like a reverse weeaboo who loves American pop culture and burgers with fries and all of her idols are super heroes. Sometimes she won't shut up about her interests and get a little over-enthusiastic but honestly, who doesn't. Her prothesis is her right arm. (when not transformed the limbs are in camo-mode and can't be noticed by the naked eye) She was designed by Maus and me.

Hiragi/Beta is Mayoko's best friend and also a nerd, but she's more interested in science, especially chemistry. She also likes steampunk and is a little hot-headed and petty, and comes from a not-so-well-off family. She is a big old lesbian and likes tall, unapproachable girls with stone cold eyes. (--; In contrast to Mayoko and Sasori, Hiragi doesn't think that every villain can be redeemed and is not afraid to kill her opponents. Her prothesis is her left eye (later also the right one) and she was designed by me.

Sasori/Gamma is a soft, kind and understanding cinnamon roll who wants to be a pop idol and loves to sing. She is usually very patient and forgiving, but once you've angered her, she will fucking destroy you. (-:, She is very talented in several ways of performing, and aside from singing she can also dance and play some instruments. In her introduction chapter she breaks her vocal cords and has them replaced with her prothesis. Maus is her mom. <3

Ayano/Delta is your avarage arrogant rich bitch and comes off as very mean in the beginning. She likes fashion and gossipping with her clique, but also loves sports, especially running. Her prothesis is her right leg. She is always seen arguing with Hiragi and generally complaining. Unfortunally, she also likes the same boy as Mayoko! How dramatic!!!! (shoujou romance incoming) She also belongs to Maus.

Asuka/Epsilon is the tall, unapproachable lesbian with stone cold eyes Hiragi dreams about. She always seems grumpy and moody, but loves animals, nature, drawing and taking long walks in the park. She is always focused on the enemy and usually keeps her young stressed teammates together, but tends to storm off alone. Like Hiragi, she also doesn't believe in redemption in every case. Her prothesis is her left arm. She is mine.

Ran/Sigma is the second grumpy, unapproachable lesbian and makes her debut in episode 25, right in the middle of the story, as the first Century Rider ever created (in this universe). She is an incredibly strong fighter and has gone through a shitload of trauma, having lost all of her friends to the resident evil cyborg, Omega, including her girlfriend Theta. She is incredibly bitter and even more of a loner than Asuka and she fucking suffers. Her prothesis is her brain.

Maus and I kinda want to redo the story someday, since we started it in 2011 and we were babies and it definitely has some problems (gotta try to fix the ableism here and there) but we are still really fucking proud of our children and their story! 1100 pages guys, I mean what the fuck!! <3

(We are currently working on a more or less direct sequel with new characters and lore and everything is edgy and gay, just like you're used to on this old blog. 8DD)

[realm-of-rp]

Character Development: Tips & Tricks - Ash's Guide to Personality & Background Part II

Welcome back to Character Development: Tips & Tricks!

The last few articles have covered the Personality section of Ash’s Guide to RPG Personality & Background. The next three articles are going to cover the Background section of the Guide;  we’ll still be working with my character, Nritya Maji, who we've been working with in the last few articles, and we’ll watch her character sheet continue to grow as we make our way through the rest of the guide.

Part II of the Guide is all about character Background. The information at the beginning of this part of the Guide points out that no matter what setting you’re in, there’s really no hard and fast rules to making a background for your character, so you can use as much of what’s presented in this section, or as little as you want, just as before. Ash is just giving a guideline to help you help yourself and your storyteller or gaming group and those you encounter as you play your character. You may or may not ever address everything you come up with during this section of the Guide, but at least you’ll have it down if you do!

Today, we’re going to look at the first three parts of the Background section – Birthplace, Family, and Professions & Crafts. This gives the basic foundation for your character’s background, the solid ground for which everything begins to be built and worked from. While Birthplace will be variable from setting to setting, Family and most Professions & Crafts will be fairly similar regardless of what setting you’re working in, aside from racial templates and game specific professions and crafts being added.

For Birthplace, Ash gives some pretty good general guidelines to use to describe the location – Name, Location, Size, Geography (i.e. desert, plains, tropical, mountainous, tundra, forest, island, etc.), Weather, Industry, Local Government/Nobility, General Character/What Was It Like (i.e. hospitable, communal, ugly, sleepy, dangerous, educated, commercial, pious, stuffy, fun, historical, youthful, political, upscale, transient, depressing, laborious, etc.),  and the last option of “Or were you born isolated from a population centre or in a group/family that travelled?” to cover nomadic lifestyles.

Let’s take a look at what Nritya's birthplace was like.

Name: Western Shroud

Location: The Black Shroud

Size: Small

Geography: Costal Forest

Weather: Variable, mostly warmer weather with rain

Industry: Fishing, Game Hunting

Local Government: Tribal Leadership

General Character: The village was small, made up of four families, not very welcoming of outsiders who weren’t also Miqo’te. There was a sort of serenity to the village otherwise, peaceful unless bothered, almost a little too idyllic.

So Nritya’s Birthplace is about what most Keeper of the Moon villages are like, as far as we know based on the scant lore we’re given. It can barely be considered a village, and is more like a well-made camp that has just been in the same location for so long, it has just become part of the scenery. A few buildings are now more permanent structures, but it’s nothing grand, since there’s only four families that live there.

Next, the Guide takes us into exploring Family, and this mainly looks at the close family of the character, not so much at the extended family. It does take into consideration that there may be a non-standard family make up, and asks a lot of questions about the family that really build an idea of what they were like.

While all the members of Nritya’s village were related in some way, let’s take a closer look at her family specifically.

Who was in the family? Nritya’s mother ran the household, as her father was a wanderer like many Male Keepers; while he visited frequently, he was not a stable member of the household. Nritya had an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister; when he was old enough, her older brother began travelling with her father, so he wasn’t around much either while her sisters stayed at home for quite some time.

Who did what for a living? Nritya’s mother was once a huntress, but had taken up fishing and continued leatherworking after an injury. Both of her sisters were huntresses, while her father was a conjurer and her brother took up the sword. Nritya herself became interested in weaponry at a young age, though the village only had an old woman who made bows, spears, wands, and staves.

Socioeconomic Status? Since their family could provide both food and materials for clothing, Nritya’s family was about average in the village hierarchy. Her mother was the niece of the village matriarch, but that only gave so much status in a four family village; the other two families were headed by the sisters of the matriarch. Status really didn’t mean much in the village, not until it came time to decide if someone’s daughter could stay and settle or had to move on.

Family’s Reputation? The family was one of two that had produced male children, which was rare for Miqo’te. There was a hope that the boy would bring another woman back to the village to settle and expand the bloodline with, however he seemed to be courting favour elsewhere so far. Nritya’s mother was once known as an excellent huntress, however the folly of someone else’s kit had cost her the ability to hunt, and now she was forced to be just a fisher and a tanner. While both of her daughters were good huntresses, neither showed the proficiency of their mother. Nritya wasn't interested in hunting, although she was learning how to use a bow and spear – her passion was making weapons, which everyone found a bit odd, as she was even more enthusiastic about it than their original weapons maker.

Myths, Curses, or Legends? Aside from the usual Miqo’te myths and legends, Nritya’s village believed that the deep waters off the shores were cursed, which is why they built the village in the trees and not on the shores themselves; the waters would rise with the full moon, and the deep waters would come closer to the trees, as if they were trying to swallow them. They believed that Menphina would protect only the trees, as she had a pact with the elementals and animals within them.

Family Mental Illnesses? Nritya’s older sister suffers from Manic streaks, though she just has Manic streaks and is not Depressive. Her father suffers from Narcissism, and unfortunately her brother is developing a bit of Histrionic Personality Disorder as a defensive response to it. Her mother occasionally has episodes of Depression due to trying to handle the fact she can no longer hunt, and after trying to deal with her father and brother.

Who Raised the Character? While Nritya’s mother was the primary influence in her young life, the entire village worked on raising the young kits together. Each person had a different aspect they taught the kits, so the whole “it takes a village” expression was very literal. Nritya also spent a lot of her young life with the old weapons maker, learning to craft wooden weapons from her.

Extended Family and Relations with Them? Nritya knew a good number of her extended family, as they lived directly in the same village. The village also traded with other extensions of the family, both nomadic parts and another village deeper in the Shroud made up of cousins to the leader and her sisters. Although they found her a little odd, her great aunt’s families were friendly and kind to her, and she got along with most of the kits her age.

As you can see, these eight groups of questions can really flesh out a character’s family quite a bit. Without even getting too detailed, we've not got a pretty good chunk of Nritya’s family life built up, even though there isn’t a lot of Keeper of the Moon lore available out there. For a Miqo’te, she had a pretty normal childhood, with a pretty stable family, and a wonderful village that was full of kindness and love.

What? Well-adjusted characters do exist!

Next the Guide has a section for Professions & Crafts. As pointed out in the section explanation, Crafts are something the character can do, while Professions are something the character does to make money. Just because a character can make jewellery doesn't mean they necessarily have to do so for a living!

This section includes a huge table of Professions & Crafts that are common to most game settings. Some of these can be applied to a setting even if they are not a mechanical option in the game – actors can exist anywhere, for example, but it’s highly unlikely that something like an MMO would have an Actor class or craft of any sort (though it’s more likely to exist in a table top).

The Guide again asks eight things about the Profession or Craft, and these can be answered for each Profession or Craft you give your character. For some characters, this part of the character sheet may get a bit lengthy. Today, we’ll only look at one of Nritya’s skills - drawing.

What level did you achieve? While she doesn't consider herself a master, Nritya is a highly skilled sketch artist, and has the ability to draw fine detail in her artworks.

Where did you train? Nritya learned on her own, starting by drawing in the sands on the shores. Her mother’s aunt was observant, and made her a sketchbook of sorts, and began teaching her what she knew, but Nritya soon surpassed what her great aunt knew. From there, it was just practising on her own and perfecting her work until it looked like the things she saw until she finally left the village for Gridania. It was in Gridania where Nritya finally got formal training from actual artists, flitting from artist to artist as she learned what she could from them and moved on; she still will compare works with other artist to continue to perfect her technique.

Did you break a contract to adventure? Nritya never entered into any formal contract to learn drawing with any artist. She did enter into one to learn weapon schematic design, and she did not break the contract she made with the smith.

Was the character part of a professional guild? She is still a part of the Blacksmiths’ Guild, the Carpenters’ Guild, and the Alchemists’ Guild as they all oversee the making of weapons of various types; there is no formal guild for artists that she’s aware of, so her drawing talents have only been applied to those guilds as a weapons designer.

Does the character own a business? Nritya is a freelancer, so technically she is a business owner, but she has no store-front to call her own. It’s not often she’s called upon to draw anything but weapons, however, and she’s often shocked when she is.

What drove you to leave the profession? She didn't exactly leave the profession, it was more of a lateral move from drawing everything to specifically drawing weapons. She’s still drawing, she’s just drawing schematics and concept designs more than still life work and portraits.

Was the profession a family business? No, as a matter of fact, her family is still rather thrown off by her choice to leave the village and nomadic life and live in the cities, and work on more than just the simple weapons they use in the village. They’re always startled when she comes home, as she dresses quite different from their tribal style, and her weapons are far superior to theirs. They can’t believe that her sketches in the sand have become what they are now.

 As just as sketch artist, Nritya was making decent enough money, however as a weapons designer, she’s making more gil than she knows what to do with. She’s not particularly in it for the gil, which is why she doesn't really know what to do with it.

How successful are you in the business?

As mentioned, answering those eight questions for every craft can lead to a very lengthy character sheet, but it can be quite worthwhile to have down. It’s very likely that someone, at some point, is going to ask your character about how they got to where they were with their Craft or Profession, even if it’s just the storyteller’s NPCs – but I’ll be it’s another player character that ends up asking first! People are always interested when someone’s got in character crafting, they really are.

That wraps it up for this session of Character Development: Tips & Tricks. Join us next time for a look at the Guide’s section on Significant Past Events, which is another section that can be really short, or really long for your character.

Stay tuned!

[ikontract-blog]

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