#she's seen people get eaten before obviously but you know I think she might have KNOWN THIS ONE??????????

[swan2swan]

Kenji and Yaz as soon as they're settled in on the boat and are able to process what they saw the past few days:

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

First day

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Alex Vause x reader

!!TW: mention of murder and vague drug mention!!

Work count:: 1.2k (not proof read)

Alex POV: (Alex and Piper aren't together in this)

I walked into the cafeteria and joined the que to get lunch, another day of sloppy something, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Yum, I can't complain though because it's better than nothing and if I do complain Red will starve me out. Brushing off hat thought, I get my food and saunter over to a table with some of my friends on it, Morello, Chapman and Nicky.  I take a seat and listen in on their conversation. 

Nicky - "No c'mon, she's hot."

Piper - "I agree, I mean have you seen her. The eyes, hair the hair!" dragging out the r sound at the end as if to make a point.

Alex - "Who you talking about?"

Nicky - "That new girl that showed up in the van this morning, she's very good lookin' although she's been crying in the bathroom since she got here so maybe not the most stable girl in here."

Morello - "There's worse trust me, and besides why are you all getting so worked up about this? Yeah she's nice to look at but what if she has someone outside of here? You know, like a boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, she might even be married for all you know?"

Nicky - "Yeah but you said it, she's nice to look at tuts, she's gunna be getting looks from all over. If she stops crying of course."

At this point my interest was piqued and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so once I'd sat, had a tal and eaten my food I was going to go find this mystery girl and find out if they're actually telling the truth.

Y/n POV:

I can't believe I actually did that. I killed her. I killed my own mother. I keep telling myself it was the only way out but everytime I think about it the guilt and self resentment creeps back in. My mum had munchausen by proxy and she made me believe I was sick and could walk or do practically anything by myself. I really didn't see any other way out so, one night I just did it. Obviously I feel terrible and wish I'd never done it but, there really was no other way out. Anyway, it's done now and I'm in jail, thankfully not maximum security because people could see my side of the story and saw I wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. 

I've been at Litchfield a little over 5 hours now and as soon as I was allowed to go off and do my thing, I went straight for the bathroom and I've been crying ever since. Somehow, I managed to get the only stall with a door so thankfully people can't just watch me cry, hear me yes but watch, no.

All day people have been staring and I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm fucked up for what I did or something. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a soft knock on the door. 

Alex - "Hey, you okay in there? Stupid question I know because well, you're crying but I still feel like I have to ask."

I bite my lip and sigh before responding, I didn't expect anyone to actually care.

Y/n -  "Uhm- yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not my ideal situation but you know, life goes on."

Alex - "Yeah well you got that one right."

After that a not awkward but not totally comfortable silence fell over us. I slowly stood up and unlocked the door. I stepped out and tried to dry my face from the copious amount of tears I'd shead in the past hours of being here. Instantly this woman picked up on it and gently held my face in one hand and helped me wipe my tears with the other.

Alex - "You'll be okay, I'm going to be brutally honest with you, the first few days are actual hell, you'll miss everything and everyone but, I'll be here is you ever want to talk about it okay? Oh, and I'm Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Vause, it's my last name." 

I smiled at Alex and nodded my head a small thank you leaving my lips. She pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. 

Alex - "You know, they were right."

I was confused because I had not a single idea what she was going on about. So, I pulled my head slightly away from her shoulder and looked at her.

Y/n - "What do you mean? Who's right?"

Alex - "Oh just my friends, they said some stiff about how you were really good looking and what not."

You felt a blush creep across my face as you looked into her gorgeous green eyes only now just realising after looking a her properly just how beautiful she really was. A sly smirk found it's way onto her lips before she spoke again. 

Alex - "Hey, don't get all shy on me now."

A she said that her hand found it's way to my waist as she pulled me closer again. Whilst she trailed her other hand up my body and hooked a finger around my chin so I'd look her in the eyes.

Y/n - "You really mean it?"

Alex - "Of course I do, I mean I've known you what, like 2 minutes and I'm already calling you beautiful I think that speaks for itself ." 

I giggle a bit and looked down in an attempt to hide my flustered face yet again, knowing she was right. I looked her in the eyes again only to see her eyes had never left me and she had a wide smile of her face. 

Alex POV:

I looked down slightly because I was a bit taller than her and just marvelled at this gorgeous girl in front of me she had glowing y/h/c hair and shining y/e/c eyes, her smile could light up a room and her laugh was so fucking adorable. Normally, I'm not the one to fall over small stuff like this but she was different,  I don't know why, she just was.

She looked me back in the eyes and I couldn't help myself anymore, I leaned in and captured her lips in mine. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hand found their way into my hair while mine rested on the small of her back keeping her safe in my arms. I swiped my tongue over her bottom lip asking for entrance and she happily agreed. She tugged on my hair a little so in return I grazed my teeth over her bottom lip and she let out a small breathy moan which was almost silent but, I could still hear it. We broke away for ir and as soon as we separated we crashed our lips back together hungrily. She was almost as addictive as some of the things women in the jail used to do. 

Just as things were getting heated someone burts into the bathroom.

Healy - "INMATES NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ALLOWED!"

We both untangled ourselves from each other and apologised. As he left I whispered in her ear. 

Y/n POV:

Alex - "He won't catch us tonight sweetheart don't worry. I'll have you all to myself, I'll make you feel better."

She then gave me a final eck on the lips and walked out the bathroom. Oh man, I was not going to get much sleep on my first night in prison.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 15

"What sort of danger are we talking about?" you ask your monster friend.

Calibani bites her lips and averts her gaze for a second as one of her hands idly plays with a strand of her hair. "So... like I said, I spend a lot of time looking for boats, right? Well, once I found this part of the sea where there were tons of them. Some were still upright, but most were on their side or even upside down. At first I couldn't believe my luck - this many ships in one place, all broken or empty, had to mean there'd be a lot of sailors in the water to catch." Blush floods her cheeks as she sees you pale at her enthusiasm for preying on drowning men. "But, um, the thing is, no one was in the water. Not a soul. All those ships were just empty, their crews gone."

She fidgets with her hair again before continuing her tale. "Obviously, something else had eaten them first, and I didn't want to stick around to see if it was still hungry. Whatever it was had to be big enough to stop a boat and pull the passengers off, and that kind of creature is likely big enough to hurt me if it wants to."

Your mind races. "It'd be a Shipbreaker, right?" you ask. "On your list of monsters-"

"No, no," Calibani says. "Shipbreakers go for the BIG ships, you see - those huge ones with hundreds or thousands of people on them, the ones that are like little moving islands unto themselves. They don't go after small boats like yours - it's not worth the energy."

That's slightly less terrifying, at least. "And you didn't see the creature?"

Calibani nods. "All I've seen are the boats. They were still there a week ago, too." She leans in. "Whatever attacked them might still be in that area, or it might have moved on. But if the boats are still there, maybe there's things you could scavenge? Like, a map, maybe?"

Your eyes sparkle with the possibilities. "A map? A map could change everything!" Indeed, as you consider how much it would simplify your journey, a part of you thinks that a map would alter the fundamental premise of your time out here. "Wait, you know what maps are?"

Calibani raises a hand and wiggles it in the universal gesture of "Kinda?" "I've heard sailors mention them from time to time as something they use to find their way around. If you don't know where to go, a map would be useful, yes?"

"Absolutely," you say before considering other possibilities. "We could find other things too - clothes, tools, food, maybe even spices!"

You can practically see stars in Calibani's eyes as they sparkle with joy. "SPICES?" Oddly, she's also the first to calm down and get rational. "Still, we can't forget the danger. I don't know what killed all the people on those boats, and I wouldn't... that is, I don't want you to get hurt, especially not following my suggestion, since I've already caused you trouble once and-"

You put a hand on her shoulder and give her a warm smile. "It's a good suggestion. Better than just wandering aimlessly, anyway." You look at the carcass of the stork and think for a moment. "And if there is a monster out there, maybe we can make it regret trying to hunt us." Your eyes focus on the sharp, spear-like beak of the stork, and you get an idea.

It takes a good deal of rope, some nails, and more than a little hard work, but after a couple hours you manage to take the stork's skull and one of its larger leg bones and cobble together a pretty nasty spear out of them. Perhaps too nasty, as you struggle to even lift the thing, but luckily Calibani seems to have enough muscle to wield it effectively, which means you finally get to take your harpoon back. Now that you're both armed, you feel more confident in your monster-fighting skills.

You store as much of the stork meat as you can in your boat's small refrigerator, pack some more of it in salt, and quickly pack everything else up as you prepare to head out. When your boat pulls away from the island, you look back on the stork carcass with regret - you're leaving a lot of meat behind to rot, after all.

Or perhaps not? As soon as your boat pulls away, that strange bird from yesterday swoops down out of the sky and lands by the stork's grisly remains and proceeds to strip the carcass of meat in a downright gluttonous display of hunger. It seems even a fucked up ecosystem of monsters has need for scavengers.

Your next few hours are fairly uneventful - Calibani sings a few old-timey songs about the sea (sea shanties, you think they're called?) while you keep your hands on the steering wheel, though your boat more or less drives itself more often than not. It's dull, but pleasant, and a part of you would almost be content just to spend the rest of your life like this.

Unfortunately, you find what you were looking for.

Calibani was not lying when she said there were a lot of small boats just floating on the waves, empty of residents and abandoned to an uncaring sea. Some are capsized, a few even wrecked, but many are not only in tact but sitting upright enough that you could hazard hopping aboard to explore them. You consult your compass on your next move.

[ambrosiagourmet]

thistle for ask meme!

Thistle :0

First impression

No joke I was convinced early on that Laios & the party were making like a huuuuge leap in assuming that Thistle was the Lunatic Magician TM like guys you can't just go accusing every random person you find in a living painting of being the manager. Alas... he was, in fact, the manager.

Impression now

He's so jester coded👍

I think Thistle is very interesting and a great foil to Marcille, which I looove. They are both magic elf(-ish) advisors, they both get caught up in wanting to help the people around them live longer, they both become dungeon lords in pursuit of that... I think Thistle's story as it is works well for the narrative and I don't necessarily think he was underutilized exactly, but it is a little hard not to want A Bit More sometimes. Even if I do think it would be hard to add that more in without sacrificing some of the pacing overall :')

Favorite moment

I was initially going to say the ending for them, because I do love it, but you know what? I've got a more interesting answer. My favorite Thistle scene is.... this:

This fundamentally changes the trajectory of the story. In trying to find someone to stop the Winged Lion, Thistle launches Marcille into becoming the next lord of the dungeon. The next victim of the Lion. If Thistle hadn't resurrected Marcille, then the plot would have played out totally differently. She wouldn't have been able to finish unsealing the book. Laios would have been on his own when the canaries came. Would they have just cleaned everything up more easily? Would it instead have become something worse? Would Laios somehow have unsealed the book and become the lore of the dungeon right away?

I dunno. But this action reshaped Marcille's life, and Laios', and so many other people's. And it was done out of a desire to keep fighting. To not give in.

Augh idk. It's good. Their connection is good.

Idea for a story

Thistle & Chimera Laios.

But not just a "Laios gets eaten by the dragon instead," I think it would be cool to explore an AU where for some handwavy magic reason, Laios gets his soul bound up w/ the dragon during Falin's resurrection, and he gets poofed into a dragon form.

There's a note somewhere that says that chimeras start popping up the more the lord of the dungeon starts to lose their hold on things, but having met Laios before might help Thistle eventually realize that something is Off about the dragon. From there... well maybe he starts to ask questions and gives Laios more freedom to actually answer, and things could continue from there as Laios gets enough humanity back to start to understand what's happening, and also Thistle takes more time to question the Lion's plans rather than just continue to act. They'd be stuck together, probably with Laios still under Thistle's control, but maybe as they figure out more of the truth, they'd actually work together? Need to rely on each other? I'd like to see how each of them would deal with that situation...

PLUS then on the flip side I think switching Falin into the group part way through the story (rather than at the start) could be really interesting. So the adventures on that side would be fun too.

Unpopular opinion

umm idk. Is Thistle widely regarded as a Marcille foil? Because if not then why. They are so inchresting. funky little mages.

Favorite relationship

Hmmm okay so like obviously Thistle & Marcille, but also as seen in my story idea I want to explore more of Thistle & Laios bc their interactions were fun, soo... I'll just say the Dungeon Lord quartet as a whole. I like when people draw art of them all together. Let them bond through shared trauma. And also all of them have tried to kill at least one other person there at some point. It's great. They should go on brunch dates.

Favorite headcanon

This post about Thistle's goal to eat a meal with Delgal fundamentally rewired my brain

[kanacozmez]

Analysis Post #1 ^^

Her stuff with the wolves is so interesting. I can't get over the fact that she's so like an attack dog in her own eyes. But she's not very wolf like in her independence and stuff. Right?? Like her whole thing is she might follow someone's direction but she seems to be doing all her vigilantism alone. I don't look into analysis at all I just base everything off of my own thoughts so I'm totally gonna be repeating other peoples thoughts but she's so obviously connected to the idea of Little Red Riding Hood.

She's become the monster and maybe she's had moments of clarity about that. (Credit to @mayoiayasep for the image)

She looks horrified about something. But the wolf seems like it's experiencing like. Pleasure makes it sound weird because of it's connotations but you know what I mean. Like it's just eaten a full meal. And she's covered in blood around her mouth which is possibly supposed to be an allegory for her murdering someone because she's always on about her fangs. The descriptions of HARROW and Deep Cover say ”I’ll gouge you out with my fangs.” and “That’s why I became your fangs.” It's pretty clear it's meant as a metaphor for her killing/attacking someone. The screenshot above makes me feel like it was her taking a life instead of just attacking someone perhaps, and this was a moment of "I didn't think I could do that" but she can't deny that she enjoyed it. It's a realisation that she's becoming like the people she hates so much but she clearly doesn't stop because it's cathartic and it feels good and we know this because she literally attacked people inside the prison.

Also, the "past" version of her - the shots with the young girl where Kotoko is in the jacket? Yeah that seems to be a direct continuation of the last MV. It opens here:

Where HARROW ends here:

So these parts of the MVs are directly next to each other on a timeline. The girl clings to her and Kotoko is obviously emotional about what's just happened and she hugs her back, right before the song has the like "That's why I became your fangs". So was this sort of. A way of indicating that this sort of reaction is what she does for at this point? She's doing this to help people and seeing them safe is worth it all. Or maybe seeing them grateful like that is worth it all. Unsure. She's either genuinely doing this because she thinks it's right or she's also motivated by the need to feel like she's moral and she's chasing the idea of that approval. Which would link to why she did what she did after being voted innocent - she got the clearest "your actions are right" she could have possibly gotten.

Then we end up back here, but this has been all drawn over. This was the setup she had that was presumably used to find that girl, but it's now all scribbled over?? It looks like she got frustrated that she's succeeded because now she's stagnated? There's moon imagery here but I'll get to that in a bit. The reason that I think that is just because of the outfit choices. Kotoko is shown in 4 (I think?) outfits total over the 2 MVs - the red hoodie, the blue and yellow jacket & cap, the white outfit and then her very cool Es cosplay. Maybe it's supposed to convey a jump back in time or something when, in Deep Cover, she's back dressed in the yellow and blue. But I think that it's sort of her "disguise". Blue and red are also (almost) complimentary colours but we will get to that. The blue of her jacket isn't technically complimentary to red but it's close enough. (Except it's not. Orange is it's compliment. I'll. Get to it).

ANYWAY.. the other time we see the blue and yellow jacket is when Kotoko is looking for information in HARROW. It's like it's her "civilian" clothes in contrast to the red hoodie being her "vigilante outfit". She's sat in the park with the girl she saved but she's not paying much attention to her because she's back to looking through her phone for information (or anything that could be seen as a go ahead to start another hunt). Another reason I think she has a motivation of needing validation for her actions is in the lyrics here. She sings "come on, rely on me, go on. I became your fangs as the long-awaited hero" - presumably to the girl. She's reliant on this girl to provide her with validation that she's doing the right thing but it's clear that whatever has happened was too far. The lyric "tell me you tell me "stop"." (Or, in a way that easier to read, 'give me the reason behind why you want me to stop this') which is followed by the line "don't you dare stop now, I want a reason for judgement execution, I want it". Notably Kotoko is back in her red hoodie and has entirely blanked the young girl - possibly because she's not giving her the backing Kotoko wants. She also throws off her hat as she walks before she transforms into the werewolf, and that item is what the girl had been playing with earlier. She removes it as she gets more aggressive, saying "I want it, give me the next target, I want it, I want it, give me the next target". It's desperate and animalistic especially with the visual of her transformation.

(A note on the transformation: it's clearly her becoming a monster or giving into her violent desires in some way, portrayed as a werewolf or some other creature like that. But she doesn't become that until we cut to the next shot where she's dressed as a guard. Her downfall began after saving that girl and then getting her flow of validation stopped, but she didn't completely transform until she'd been voted innocent. Because that was a go ahead that she was right, that she was able to go back to how she used to deal with criminals. But she couldn't do that properly because she'd long since started changing into the werewolf / the worst version of herself.)

So. Yeah. This is the first analysis post of at least two, if not three that I'll make. I think that what happened to Kotoko before entering the prison was this:

She discovered a kidnapping case of a girl (it could be trafficking as well considering the girl doesn't ever get shown to be reuniting with her family? Maybe it was hard to get to them?) and went to rescue her. To protect her, she killed the man who did this and this then began the realisation she had that she can use violence to her advantage. This is only confirmed to her because she gets verification that it was worth it from the young girl. Kotoko begins to fixate on this need to be supported in her actions and in looking into more things to solve that would get her this, she stops paying as much attention to the girl. Eventually, the girl tells her to stop doing this - probably because she misses Kotoko? - and this denial of validation makes Kotoko upset. Then she brushes off the girl and presumably goes to either: kill someone else and then get caught an put into MILGRAM, start killing multiple people (over a chunk of time probably) before getting caught, or to get caught for MILGRAM before she can take another life.

Being caught and put in this situation where she can protect people but doesn't need to be violent puts her cravings on hold until she's voted innocent and others are guilty. And we know what happens after that.

[rileytwenty]

Leyra || the Albino Na'vi

(Neteyam x OC)

MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST/PICS

Chapter 2

For the next few weeks, Neteyam watched for Leyra everywhere he went.

Startled by the experience with Toruk Makto's son, she began making herself even more scarce than usual. Her father dropped her off on the ground even before breakfast and she only came back when darkness was about to overtake the forest.

While she was out, she made sure to steer clear of anywhere anyone might find her. In her mind, being alone was the best option. She'd rather be eaten by a Palulukan than live a life of constant judgement.

Neteyam caught glimpses of her white complexion here and there as she came and went. He found himself scanning the tree line during training and hunts, looking for that flash of white. Yet he never found her outside of camp.

No wonder he had not noticed her before their meeting. Most of the time, he wasn't entirely convinced that she was real. Until he saw her scampering off to her marui, or quickly hopping onto her father's ikran before they took off.

Why didn't she want to be around people her age? It appeared that her father was the only one she interacted with. What a miserable life she must live, being isolated from the people all the time.

Once, Neteyam grew too agitated by this idea and tried scouting out the place he had last seen her as well as the surrounding area. Where could one little Na'vi girl possibly go in a forest this big and dangerous? His scout was unsuccessful, and it left him frustrated.

After a couple weeks, she figured that his busy days would have wiped their interaction from his memory and she resumed her regular schedule.

He had not, however, forgotten her, and was delighted to be seeing her around camp a little more. She must be getting over her shyness, Neteyam assumed.

A few days later, Neteyam noticed Leyra's father leaving camp on his ikran unexpectedly, carrying two bowls of food.

Usually, Leyra fed herself lunch from the forest, eating some mixture of vegetation. But today, her father was looking to spend a little extra time with his daughter.

Curiosity grabbed hold of him, and Neteyam followed the man. Did he know where Leyra was spending her days? Neteyam wondered how someone who stands out so harshly could disappear like she has. Silent as an owl, he flew a distance behind the man.

Eventually the man landed at the top of a waterfall and unloaded the two meals. Bidding his ikran goodbye, he made his way to the bottom of the falls before creeping along the small ledge of rock behind the heavy downpour of water. After a few steps along the ledge, he was gone.

What? Neteyam followed the man's footsteps, the gentle spray of mist from the waterfall wetting his skin.

Sure enough, there was an entrance to a cave not far into the ledge. He had to bend down a little to enter.

"And I was telling him that he shouldn't-" The man's words were interrupted by Neteyam's sudden presence.

"Hello, Neteyam." The man greeted, shielding his daughter from view as much as he could subtly manage. "Sorry, is this usually your spot? We can leave, if you want." The man was evidently nervous.

"No, no," Neteyam assured, "I was coming to find Leyra, actually."

The man gave his child a 'what have you done?' look, and she returned the glance with an expression of 'I didn't do anything!'.

"Me? What for?" Leyra forced her voice to steady despite the nerves gnawing at her throat.

"Just to check up, I guess. Make sure you were still alive after spending so much time in the forest alone."

She was very obviously offended. "I've spent years alone in the forest, I think I can-" a peak at her father's expression and she was correcting herself, "I think I can thank you! Very much, for worrying about me. But I am alright, as you can see. No reason for concern. Is there anything else that you needed?"

"Do I need a reason to come see you?"

"No, of course not. I just figured you were busy with your duties, that you had no time for purposeless visits." Her hands were sweating and she wiped them on her top. Why had he come? To spy on her for his grandmother? She had done nothing to stand out lately, and didn't understand what she'd done to catch the Sully family's attention.

"Ah," he sighed in understanding, "I am a busy person."

Her father spoke, "Indeed. You usually have many duties to tend to. You should go eat with your family while you have the time. I'll bet they miss you with you being out all day."

Neteyam took the hint directed at the man's own life and excused himself. Though, not before asking, "Are you here often, Leyra?"

"Sometimes." She replied. She certainly wouldn't be coming back for a while now that perfect warrior boy knew about it.

"Good." He nodded to them both as a goodbye, and returned to the village.

He knew of her spot now. That's why he hadn't seen her from the sky, she had been in a cave. And it was a beautiful cave, too. He could see why she liked it so much.

He planned to return there later when her father was not there. He suspected the man did not want to draw more attention than necessary to his daughter and risk something bad happening to her at the hands of other clan members, so he definitely wouldn't tell Jake about Neteyam's imposing visit.

The day he first met Leyra, Neteyam had asked around if anyone knew of a white Na'vi in the clan. The older ones mostly knew of her, and asked if she was still around after all this time. The younger ones knew about as much as he had.

However, out of all the people he asked, none of them were happy at her mention. A few called her 'a mistake in the bloodline' and demanded that he not bring her up again.

Neteyam couldn't grasp it all. How could a girl so beautiful be forsaken by her own clan-- his clan, the clan he had grown up in-- just because of her unique coloration?

Back in the cave, Leyra's father was digging into her.

"What did you do to attract his attention now? I thought you said he had forgotten about it and left you alone?"

"I don't know what I did! I wish he would just ignore me, but he won't."

taglist: @kachowness

[carrotcouple]

It had been simple.

Going through the motions, investigating things that Nahida asked him to, picking fights with arrogant scholars, reading as many books in the forbidden section as he wanted to, rejecting invitations to go drinking with Cyno and Kaveh, writing when he felt like it, teaching Collei how to read.

He'd pretty much moved on. And by 'moved on' he meant that he compartmentalized, putting past events into a box and throwing them into a corner of his mind that he never visited.

So he hadn't expected to be hit with reality quite like this.

"Are you alright?" Haypasia asked him.

The thing was that Fujin was in every sense, a fallen God. Had it been the days of the Archon War he might have even taken Nahida's place as Archon of the people of Sumeru, and Celestia itself would have acknowledged him.

And the one person who'd seen his very core and had become his one and only worshipper and follower now stood in front of him and she had no idea who he was. That was the price he paid for erasing himself from history. Not that he would want her to remember him anyways.

There couldn't be any world where she would have wanted to serve a pathetic failure of a God. She'd witnessed his short reign and then watched him fall.

"I'm fine," Fujin crossed his arms. "I don't see how I wouldn't be fine. Did you really think I'd be weak enough to get hurt from someone as small as you knocking into me?"

"Oh dear," she said, scratching the back of her head. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" Fujin laughed. His stomach was twisting into knots. She was important to him. So important to him that he felt it in his non-existent soul. The failed God in him desperately yearned for the devotion of its only devotee.

But he was nothing to her now. Not even a memory. He didn't even exist in a world before now. Not to her at least.

"If you offended me, little girl, I'd have thrown you out a window. Remember to watch where you're going." Fujin turned and started marching away. He couldn't even consider this as her betraying him. By erasing himself from history, he'd been the one to betray her, not the other way around.

"Wait a minute! I'm not-"

"Haypasia? Is that you? Getting confused and lost as usual then? Are you back after having eaten all the drugs the Forest Watchers could pump into your system?" Fujin heard another student call out to Haypasia and he stopped in his tracks.

"How dare you! I research a legitimate field! Also that was incredibly rude to the Forest Watchers! Watch your tongue!" Haypasia cried out.

"Everyone here knows that you and the Forest Watchers are in cahoots to get more fundi-"

Fujin grabbed the student's collar and swung them so they were dangling out of a window.

"How about you try finishing that sentence?" Fujin snarled. "I wonder how long it'll take for you to hit the roots of the Divine Tree of Wisdom? Plenty of time to reflect on the brainlessness of your actions, yes? They call the Akedimiya the center of all knowledge and wisdom in all of Tevyat but all I meet are buffoons who cannot rub two brain cells together but are riding on the esteem of their school. Tell me, how many things have you achieved? Surely you must be one of the top students of the Akedimiya if you are able to wag your tongue so freely?"

"Mercy!" The student cried out, gripping his hand tightly, eyes wide and fear all over their face. Their limbs were flailing, obviously not wanting to die.

"You talk about the Forest Watchers stealing funding they don't need. I should throw you into a Withering Zone and see how you fare. Then you can prove they don't need funding, yes? As long as you manage to get out alive, of course."

Everyone in the hall was staring at him, terrified.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was rude of me to say-"

"Hat Guy!"

Fujin sighed. That stupid fucking name. He needed to bring this up to Nahida. He turned to see Tirzad, one of the older Vahumana scholars staring at him in scandalized horror.

"Put that student down this instant! This is a sacred institution! You cannot bring your uncouth bullying in-" Tirzad began.

"Well," Fujin said, "I'd like to see you do something about it then."

He was about to go back to threatening the student when he saw Haypasia again. She looked scared. Scared of him.

Ah.

She really didn't know who he was. She didn't know that she had seen everything. But she no longer knew him.

Fujin laughed a little.

He didn't know why he felt such a keen and aching sense of loss. He had known for five hundred years that he was destined to be alone and unloved. That was why everyone had either thrown him away, used him, or left him.

"Nahida will understand," Fujin told Tirzad whose jaw dropped at him using the Archon's name so flippantly and casually and then he let go of the student.

Several people including the student screamed as the student went plummeting towards the lower levels of Sumeru City. Fujin flipped everyone in the hallway off, glanced at Haypasia's face, and then jumped out the window.

He caught the student just before they hit the pavement. Then he gently lowered them to the ground where they collapsed in a heap.

"You should write a book," Fujin grinned. "'How to offend Hat Guy and Survive'. How does that sound?" He patted the student's shoulder and then decided to meander into the Grand Bazaar to maybe find Nilou and watch one of the theater's rehearsals before Nahida found him and scolded him for throwing people out of the windows again.

His mind wandered back to Haypasia.

He wondered if she had enough funding for her research. He had a stupid amount of mora and people were allowed to anonymously donate to students.

He hissed under his breath, trying to squash the failed God that lived in his hollow chest. Haypasia wasn't his anymore.

He crossed his arms and unhappily headed to the Grand Bazaar.

[starlight-shades]

Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch. 6

• summary – Another trip to town. We meet some people we don't like.

• rating – M

• wordcount – 3.5k

• warnings – mentions of previous character deaths

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Ch. 1 Ch. 5 Ch 7.

”Well we’re obviously going to have to get clothes that fit them,” Johnny said, breaking the silence that stretched between them.

Ailsa and Duncan were happily munching away at their breakfast (eaten at the table with utensils for the first time), positively drowning in the t-shirts Simon and Johnny had pulled out of their own dresser for them.

“I don’ want any dresses,” Ailsa declared.

She was cute, Simon thought. Her dirty blonde hair was haphazardly tied back as best they could manage with a strip of leather he had managed to scrounge up.

When he had first woken up, he had been surprised to find two small, very human, children staring at him. Her familiar honey-brown eyes were one of the first things to settle his racing heart. He might not have recognized them immediately, but he knew them.

Ailsa and Duncan both had a splash of freckles across their faces. Where Ailsa had blonde hair a similar shade to his, Duncan’s hair was a rich dark brown, long enough to be shaggy, but not so long that he could tie it back like his sister’s. They were both cute.

In their too-big shirts, wearing gym shorts cinched as tight as they would go, the pups looked every bit the foundlings they were.

“Okay, we won’t get any dresses,” Simon reassured her. “Is there anything else we should get while we’re in town? Do you normally go to school? Should we get you some school supplies?”

“Can I have a book like Johnny’s?” she asked.

“We’re not big enough for school yet,” Duncan said before they could answer his sister, speaking up for the first time. He sounded like he was parroting someone else’s words. Simon’s heart ached for what that meant.

“Yeah, we can get you a sketchbook, but I think Si was talking more along the lines of things for kindergarten. How old are you two?” Johnny asked.

“We’re five,” Duncan answered at the same time Ailsa said “We’re this many” holding up her hand with all five fingers outstretched.

“Okay, we’ll get clothes and a sketchbook for Ailsa. Duncan, bug, do you want anything?” Simon asked, on a mission now.

He stared down at the table, obviously thinking very hard, his face scrunched. Then, after a moment, voice soft, he said “Can I have more orange juice, please?”

It had been a few weeks since his last foray into town. They had gotten better about managing their supplies, supplementing their groceries with whatever they could catch or forage.

Every few weeks was still much more frequent than Simon was used to, and he had gotten comments about it every time he had been seen by one of the old biddies. He was not looking forward to whatever comments they would receive this time.

Duncan had shifted back into his wolf-shape not long after they left, but he had insisted on staying with them on their trip to town. Simon had had to put his foot down when Johnny tried to use the baby backpack again, but it was agreed that he had to wear something to indicate he belonged with them.

“Okay Bug, do you want to pick a collar, or do you want me to grab one real fast?” Simon asked, pulling into the parking lot of the tiny pet supply store in town. He looked back at Duncan in the rearview mirror.

“This paw for pick your own, the other for Si picking one,” Johnny added, leaning over the center console to reach into the back seat, tapping each of his paws in turn.

“I wanna come in too,” Ailsa announced, squirming in her car seat (he had had to special order those—another awkward conversation when he came to pick them up from the post office).

“I guess we’re all going in, then,” Johnny said, turning to arch a brow at Simon who just shrugged in response.

When Duncan affirmed he wanted to pick his collar, they all filed out of the vehicle, Johnny quick to unbuckle a wiggling, impatient Ailsa who immediately glued herself to her brother’s side when she was placed back on her own two feet. With one hand buried in the fur on his scruff, she walked them over to Simon’s side, sliding her free hand into his. Johnny completed their line, coming to stand beside Duncan who pressed back into him.

They were as ready as they were going to be, but they stood as a united front.

Simon had only been inside the store once before when he had first bought supplies for the pups, but it was still small enough that he had a general idea of where things were. The options were limited, and in the end Duncan chose one with a thick green band.

“Wait, can I have one too? I want to match,” Ailsa said, quieter than she had been previously. She fidgeted with her hands, not looking at either of them.

“Which one do you want, darling?” Johnny asked her, taking one of her hands and pulling her closer to the rack of dog collars. He had a pained look on his face as she picked out a bright purple one.

With the two collars (and the matching leashes) in hand, they set their purchases on the counter.

“Sir, your dog needs to be on a leash,” the cashier hesitantly informed them when they went to check out.

Simon just wordlessly slipped the collar on Duncan and clipped the leash on. Three of them silently stared at the cashier until he folded, handing Simon his receipt. Ailsa bared her teeth at him, letting out a child’s approximation of a growl as they walked away.

On the way out, Ailsa spotted that they had a machine that engraved tags, and she insisted they had to get the one shaped like a paw print.

“Cuz we’re woofs,” she explained, very much like a professor giving a lecture with her matter-of-fact tone.

Johnny and Simon both nodded solemnly.

“But does that mean you’re gonna wear one too?” Johnny had asked.

Simon shot him a look. Why would he suggest that when he was always so insistent that they were not dogs? God forbid Simon buy dog shampoo because he wanted something that wouldn’t irritate their skin, but Johnny suggests they get matching dog tags?

“You’re right! You need one too. And Simon should have one, but he’s not a woof.” Her little face scrunched up very much like her brothers as she thought. She stared at the options again. Duncan jumped up to look too, pressing his paws to the machine, pushing too many buttons at once that had it beeping in protest.

“It’s alright, I don’t need one,” Simon reassured them, gently guiding Duncan back to the floor. When he whined in protest, he scooped the pup up, balancing him on his hip so he could still look with his sister.

“But me and Duncan and Johnny are getting one. You need one too.”

“You can’t argue with that logic, Si,” Johnny agreed.

Simon just glared at him. He only grinned wider.

He opened his mouth to snap something at the other man, but before he could Ailsa squealed.

“There’s a pink one, Simon! You need that one because you turn pink sometimes.”

“Wait—“

“You’re so smart, a bhobain,” Johnny praised, interrupting him before he could even protest. He put his money into the machine too quickly for Simon to even think about stopping him.

They walked out in the same line that they walked in, but this time they all had the glint of metal at their throats. The trip had left them relatively unscathed, which Simon was grateful for, but he knew the real trial would be clothes shopping.

He was quickly proven correct when they were waylaid almost immediately after entering the store.

“Simon, dearie!”

When he saw who it was, he closed his eyes for a moment, praying for patience.

Three older women toddled over to them, practically frothing at the mouth to be the ones to provide fresh gossip. For all intents and purposes, they were identical to him, always traveling in a swarm.

He grunted in greeting as they descended.

If it were anyone else, they would move on immediately after hearing the tone of his voice. But these ladies were different. They were worse than everyone else. They were the garden club…

“Oh Simon, who is this precious bairn?”

“What a beautiful dog! Almost looks like a wolf, don’t you think?”

“Are you watching them?”

They fired question after question at him, not pausing for him to answer. Duncan let out a whine, and Ailsa shrank back, clinging to Johnny’s leg.

“Who do they belong to?”

“And who is this dashing gentleman?”

“Aren’t you just darling?”

When one of them reached to pinch Ailsa’s cheek, she growled at the offending hand, almost biting the fingers.

“You little beastie!” she shrieked, yanking her hands out of reach.

Johnny scooped Ailsa up, tucking her head into his neck. Duncan started growling, hackles raised.

“Oi, hands to yerself,” he sneered.

“Why, I—“

Simon slid himself in front of his little squadron, shielding them from sight.

“Simon, you need to reign in your—whatever they are!”

“She needs to be taught manners!”

“And you, young man, should have some respect!”

The biddies tittered at him, but he was unmoving.

“I think you should leave us to our shopping,” he said, voice low.

They gasped, looking shocked and offended, but he couldn’t care less. They had scared his pups. The biddies retreated, and he moved, staying in front of Johnny, Duncan, and Ailsa until they were gone.

It might have been a sharp escalation from an outside perspective, but he knew that today was already incredibly stressful for the children without introducing any scary old ladies.

They make it to the children’s clothing section before they’re intercepted again.

“Simon?” A young woman approaches them slowly. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, not unkindly.

“Mary,” he says. This one he will tolerate, but not for long, he thinks as Ailsa reaches for him from Johnny’s arms.

“You have a daughter?” Mary asks, clearly bewildered as she watches him take Ailsa from Johnny.

She looks even more shocked when after Duncan paws at Johnny’s chest to be picked up too, he’s scooped up in much the same way as his sister.

Simon didn’t answer her question, just grunted.

“Mary, this is Johnny. Johnny, Mary.”

“You can call me John.”

When he doesn’t expand, she rushed out, “My mother tried to set us up, but um, obviously it didn’t work.”

“Oh,” Johnny said, an odd edge to his voice.

“And who’s the wee one?” she asks, smiling at Ailsa, but luckily not reaching out.

Simon looks down at her, and when she tucks her face into his neck, he feels his chest warm. She’s right to feel secure with him. He would kill to keep her safe.

“She’s my pup,” he says, letting Mary assume he means “kid.”

The silence settles awkwardly between them. Before she breaks it again.

“Oh well, it was nice seeing you and your partner. Good to meet you, John,” she said, sounding genuine.

Partner?

Without even thinking about it, Simon’s eyes darted to Johnny, who apparently had the same reaction. His face flamed.

“See? Pink,” Ailsa whispered to him, resting her little palm on his cheek.

“What do you think of these?” he asks her, abruptly changing the subject as fast as he could by redirecting her attention back to the task at hand.

Somehow, they manage to pick out enough clothes for both Duncan and Ailsa, getting a few looks when they asked Duncan to pick things he liked. Eventually, they made their way out, dropping off the bags at the car before making one last stop at Simon’s go-to bakery.

Ailsa squealed when she saw the little storefront. It was bright yellow with wide windows and a faded blue sign hung above the door proclaiming it “Sweetie’s.” They were greeted by the scent of vanilla and fresh-baked cookies when Simon pushed open the door, holding it open for all of them.

The pups made a beeline for the display case at the counter, with a broad selection on view. Small hands pressed against the glass, doubtlessly leaving smudges, but they weren’t nearly as bad as the marks left by Duncan’s nose. Simon thanked whatever powers that be had left the store mostly deserted aside from one man who sat at a table, typing away at a laptop.

“You can have one each,” he instructed them. When he saw Johnny standing with them, staring longingly at the baked goods alongside the children. Simon sighed fondly. “You can have one too,” he teased.

“Awa’ an bile yer heid,” Johnny retorted, smiling that grin that left him feeling adrift.

“English, MacTavish.”

“I’ll tell you later, it’s not something for wee ears,” he chuckled, tousling Ailsa’s hair.

“Simon!” the man behind the counter exclaimed as they approached the register.

“Si, do you know everyone in town?” Johnny asked, bumping him with his elbow.

He rolled his eyes. “Hi, Peter.”

The middle aged man laughed, a big-bellied sound. “Oh, he just knows the good ones,” he whispered like it was a secret, shooting Johnny a wink.

“I’ll get my usual, and whatever they want.”

“Anything for Janet?” Peter asked.

“Not this time. What do you want, love?” Simon directed the question at Ailsa who had once again attached herself to his leg as soon as a new person was introduced.

“That one,” she mumbled to him, pointing with her finger. “Duncan wants that one.”

“Alright, those two. Johnny?”

“I’ll have one of those big shortbread cookies you’ve got there.”

“Good lad,” Peter said with an approving nod in Johnny’s direction. His face changed, like something had just occurred to him. “Say, Simon, you live up out there in the woods? Detective!” he called to the only other person in the bakery.

He felt his stomach drop, but he couldn’t stop it from happening.

When the man looked up, Peter gestured to Simon. “This lad is up by where you were looking for your missing hunters!”

“Is that right?” the detective spoke as he pushed himself up.

He was a lanky fellow with an unremarkable face. His hair was a dull blonde and his eyes were a watery blue, set deep in his face. The clothes he wore were wrinkled, his shirt stained in a spot or two, and his pants a size too small for his frame.

Ghost had long ago grown out of the expectation that he could overpower someone with brute strength, having quickly learned not to underestimate anyone based on appearances. But he knew without a doubt that he could rip this man’s throat out with his teeth. He was a threat to him and his.

“Detective Constable Collins,” he said, showing them an ID badge. “I’m investigating the disappearance of a few men who were up here hunting a couple weeks ago.”

Simon grunted, pulling Ailsa closer to him. Johnny was silent at his side, one hand on Duncan’s head, the other on Ailsa’s.

“You live up in the woods, you say?” Collins asked.

“I do.” His answers were short.

“He’s up by the old game trails,” Peter supplied, clearly wanting to be helpful.

“Did you come across these three men in the past few weeks?” Collins pulled out what appeared to be ID photos of the hunters.

When Ghost looked at them, all he could picture was the glee with which they had murdered Duncan and Ailsa’s parents. Their laughter echoed in his mind, quickly swallowed by the sound of their screams as he killed them.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

Ailsa snarled at the detective, her whole face contorted. To Simon’s horror, her eyes flashed a brighter gold for a moment. Reacting quickly, Johnny scooped her up, pressing her face into his neck, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Duncan moved to take her place at Ghost’s side. Collins’s attention lingered on her for far longer than was comfortable.

“With all due respect,” Ghost began to redirect his attention, with no actual respect intended, “I would prefer not to have this conversation now.”

Collins’ demeanor shifted. Where before he had been mostly polite, now his shoulders were tense. He held himself more stiffly, straightening to his full height (he didn’t even reach Ghost’s chin), meeting his eyes again.

“Well, we can discuss this back at the police station.”

“I apologize, sir,” he spoke, his voice level. He had trained for interrogations far worse than this. “We really have to get home.”

“I’ll need to note your information down.” There was a thinly veiled threat in Collins’ voice.

Reluctantly, Ghost handed over his ID. Johnny had to shift Ailsa to dig out his wallet and hand his over when Collins held out a hand for his. Duncan let out a whine. The detective studied the pup for another too-long moment before looking back at Ailsa.

“And this is your child?” he asked.

“Yes,” he lied easily.

Collins stared at him, glancing back at her in Johnny’s arms.

Before he could ask anything else, Ghost collected their order from Peter.

“Any further questions can be asked at another time. It’s time for her nap, so we really need to get home.”

The detective narrowed his eyes. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

Ghost could feel Collins’ eyes on them as they left the bakery. He refused to hurry, not wanting to make him even more suspicious, but his instincts were screaming at him to get them away away away.

As soon as the back door of the car was open, Duncan darted inside, curling up on the floor. Ailsa, trembling in Johnny’s arms, shifted, letting out a heart-wrenching cry as she practically dove to huddle with her brother.

Johnny climbed into the backseat with them, curling around them as best he could, and Simon desperately wanted to join them, but he needed them safe more.

The bag from the bakery was discarded in the passenger seat as he drove them home.

Their interaction with D.C. Collins set back any progress Duncan and Ailsa had made. What had started out as a day to celebrate had turned sour.

The pups had barely eaten dinner, not even interested in their treats from Sweetie’s. All they had wanted to do was curl up in the bedroom. Simon and Johnny couldn’t get them into the bed. They had chosen instead to cuddle together in the corner of the room.

Sighing, Simon grabbed the comforter from the bed along with their favorite plushes and tucked them in on the floor.

When he looked back at Johnny, he could see the man’s emotions plain on his face. He was devastated at how their day had ended. Simon was too.

“I need to make a call, can you stay with them?” he spoke softly, squeezing Johnny’s hand when he didn’t look at him.

“Aye, I can.”

Simon nodded, but as he turned away, Johnny pulled him back by his hand.

“Come back quick,” he murmured, “We need you.”

“I will,” he whispered.

He left the room as Johnny shifted, the big brown wolf curled around the pups in their makeshift bed on the floor.

It broke his heart to leave them there, but he needed to ensure their safety. He didn’t like the way Collins had asked about his girl.

The line rang three times before it was picked up. It was a voice he hadn’t ever expected to hear again.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Ghost. Can’t say I thought I’d be hearing from you.”

“I need you to get me some documents.”

He could hear the steel hardening in her voice. “What do you need?”

“Adoption papers.”

The line was silent.

“Kate?”

“You need to tell me everything.”

He was exhausted when he returned to the bedroom. As he looked at the pile of wolves in the corner, he debated if he should get into the bed. Johnny, as if hearing Simon’s thoughts, lifted his head and made a chuffing noise at him.

So without further thought, he joined them on the floor, making a brief detour to grab some more pillows from the bed. He settled in, molding his body around the sleeping pups at his side.

How quickly his life had shifted to revolve around them. He had no regrets.

Johnny moved closer to him, nudging him into his side where Duncan and Ailsa had situated themselves. He laid gentle licks across Simon’s face, down his hair, across his shoulders.

Simon sputtered when Johnny’s wolf-y saliva got in his mouth.

“I’m here, you big mutt,” he muttered, pushing Johnny’s muzzle away, and instead burying his hand in Johnny’s thick fur on his neck.

Johnny huffed.

Sleep did not come easily, but it came for them all.

[sebdoesthings]

So I follow you because I stumbled on your Witcher fic on AO3. But the tags on the "unskippable cutscene" post got me curious. What are your headcanons on the Plague Tale games?

God, you've really gone and done it now

Idk if you've played the second game, so if you haven't uhhhh don't read this? idk, suit yourself, I'm gonna share one headcanon that isn't too spoilery (meaning it's from the middle of the game and not the end)

So my headcanon is that before Arnaud was a knight, he was a sailor. I think this is pretty much confirmed by various things, some in the context of the game, others outside of it.

[Edit: I have had to reformat this post because apparently on dash if you click expand on a long post it automatically opens a read more, so I'm moving the read more up here for spoiler reasons. It's not what I'd like, but oh well.]

Firstly, my in-game evidence

Hugo and Amicia go through the game telling multiple people about the island they're searching for, but no one can ever pinpoint it from the description they give. Then at the beginning of chapter 7, we learn that Arnaud knows not only exactly what island they're looking for, he knows its name and location (as evidenced by the fact he tells Amicia it's a "ten mile fucking swim" from where they are).

Now, how did he learn about La Cuna? How did he learn the siblings were looking for it? Surely not from Hugo at the end of chapter 6, because that was a very time sensitive situation, as Amicia was about to be eaten by rats. And besides, at that point, Arnaud had already hunted them down again, but obviously had no longer any intentions of killing Amicia, since he stepped up to Hugo instead of just watching her be eaten from afar.

This means that he knew about the island before he made his deal with Hugo. So my guess is that it has to do with why he was looking for Vaudin in chapter 2 (a question i've seen pop up multiple times online). It's never exactly specified whether the Count was affiliated with the order (or if it was I missed it in the chaos that was the last third of the game), but I don't think it's a coincidence that he moved to the very place where the macula originated. SO I think that Arnaud was looking for Vaudin to trace Victor through the order. Obviously Amicia got there first (probably leading Arnaud to believe she works with the order, fuelling his disdain for her), but what if Arnaud eventually made it into Vaudin's lab? What if he saw the mural of La Cuna and recognised it? And how would he recognise it from just a picture? That's right, by being familiar with the mediterranean sea.

Another piece of evidence is that he knows a lot about ships. In Chapter 7, when the siblings crest the hill and overlook the sea, Arnaud comes up from behind them and tells them about Sophia's ship. A discreet, fast ship. I don't know about you, but I don't think I could tell whether a ship is fast just from looking at it. Discreet, maybe, but not fast.

We know from Arnaud that Sophia owes him for not killing her when he was ordered to. And wouldn't you agree that it would be pretty idiotic to send footmen to deal with smugglers in their sailing ships? You need sailors for that. Preferably soldiers who were once sailors, so they can both capture the smugglers' ship and do away with the smugglers themselves.

And then, once they get to the ship, Sophia trusts Arnaud to get the ship ready to set sail. And when the anchor gets stuck, he knows right away that it was blocked. He doesn't think it might have caught on something, he knows its blocked, probably from experience and the way it feels. Then, when it comes to hoisting the sail, he knows right away which ropes to pull, and he says he'll "take port-side". If he didn't know about ships, he would hardly know that term - I sure don't.

Later, during an optional scene at the beginning of chapter 8, Sophia says she needs a hand because "the sail's pulling port side", so Arnaud takes charge and tells Amicia to pull the rope on the other side, and that he'll give her some slack on his. Again, he knows which ropes to pull and how to fix Sophia's problem, and she doesn't feel the need to instruct the two on what to do. The same thing happens again in chapter 14, as well.

This man knows what he's doing. Clearly he has sailing experience.

Now for my evidence from sources other than in-game. There are more serious endgame spoilers here, so don't read if you haven't finished the game yet (Pii, if you're reading this, click off now. I mean it. Don't.)

Right, so in the gameplay reveal trailer for Requiem, Harry Myers, who is Arnaud's voice actor, recites the poem "Requiem" by Robert Louis Stevenson (I know, I went insane when I learned the poem is called Requiem too).

When I first heard it I already thought it actually fit Arnaud well even outside of his VA performing it, but I told myself I was just being delusional, and that it was obviously intended for Amicia and Hugo, since they are the focus of the trailer.

Well.

I was wrong.

This set of tweets pretty much confirms that the poem was chosen with Arnaud in mind.

And with THAT in mind, the line "Home is the sailor, home from sea" is also applied to him. Maybe this seems like a reach, maybe I'm reading too much into it because I want it to be true, but I would not put it past the people who chose a poem whose title matches the game title to do this on purpose.

So yeah.

this is my case for why Arnaud Malpart used to be a sailor.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I DID turn into an unskippable cutscene.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hey, I think I sent an ask a few days ago about headmates you're afraid of, not sure if it got eaten or you just didn't have enough time / info to respond, but I'm feeling a little more stable now so I'd like to elaborate if that's okay?

So. I'm a fictive of a character from an anime/manga, and the host of my system. This past weekend, we had a very traumatic incident happen. I don't want to put too many details that might trigger people, but the short version is that an event we were attending got swatted. It was all a false alarm, no one was hurt, and we were back to usual activities within an hour or so.

We knew.. Pretty much immediately that we were splitting over it. The symptoms we have for traumatic splits usually line up to a pretty consistent order for us so we were just braced for it. What I wasn't expecting was that we would split.. My grandmother.

We never met properly, in source. She died before I was born, and I grew up being told by my father and then my.. caretaker, for lack of a better word, that she had abandoned us, didn't care about her family, didn't care that we were hurting, and put the lives of strangers above her family. I only ever saw her.. Spirit? I suppose? In a few instances, and it obviously wasn't a happy reunion because I was so full of hate that I didn't care what she said.

I know from an objective sense that she was doing what she thought was best. I read our source and the longer it's gone on, the more I've realized just how much of my life was lies and fabrications from the people around me who wanted me to be hateful. I can see as an outside viewer that she wasn't pure evil like I thought. But that doesn't change the immediate gut feeling that I'm dealing with now that she's right in front of me again.

I panicked really badly when she first showed up in headspace. I'm usually a frontstuck host, but I fully switched out and hid in a corner of headspace for a few hours until our gatekeepers were able to pull her back into a different corner of the world that I don't have access too. She.. Looks a lot like I did when I was a kid. I wasn't expecting that.

I'm still not entirely sure how to react to all this or how to get comfortable with her being here. I don't want to panic and run every time she needs to front, but I also have no idea how to even approach her without all the heaviness from source crushing me completely. Sorry if this is really heavy. I'm just hoping you guys or someone else has some advice on coping with this.

Hi! We genuinely think your first ask got eaten, we’ve never seen an ask like this in our inbox… I’m so sorry!

It sounds like you’re dealing with a really tough situation. I guess we’d like to remind you that what you’ve heard from others may not align to what’s actually happened in your source’s past. Sometimes emotions can get the best of people, and situations can be misinterpreted, especially when tensions are high and family is involved.

Have you spoken to your grandmother in the system directly to hear from her what happened before you were born in your source? Maybe she had a good reason to leave, or thought she was acting in your family’s best interests at the time.

Additionally, she may not come with source memories, and not feel attached to her source at all. We firmly believe that introjects are their own people and cannot and should not be held accountable for events that happened in their source, even if they feel extremely connected to their source.

If it’s difficult to interact with her directly, perhaps try writing her a letter, or asking another headmate to pass a message along. Beginning to communicate, even if it’s hard, is the first step towards building trust. I know it won’t be easy, but unfortunately, it’s probably necessary in order for the two of you to come to an understanding and exist happily in the same mind.

We’re so sorry you’re going through something like this. If it’s easier for you, please remember that the grandmother in your headspace is an introject, just like you. She can’t help being formed and did not choose this - sometimes the brain makes internal choices that can’t be helped. We hope y’all can grow together and learn to coexist, and we’re wishing you the very best!

🌸 Margo and 💫 Parker

[sassenashsworld]

Infinite Possibilities

Start

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Chapter 9: Flying bird

"I warned you, Valentine. I told you to heed my words, but you didn't listen," she said with a hint of regret in her voice.

Claire has this way of welcoming people, or maybe she just reserves all her sarcasm for him, which always makes the detective grind a little. If something can hang in the decor, she hastens to point it out to him, and obviously, there is a nail that sticks out and gets caught in every piece of linen that hangs around. It snatches his beating core and rips it asunder. He had a hunch about what Clair was getting at, but in this line of work, he never takes anything at face value. Gotta makes sure his gut feeling is on the money.

"What are you harping on?"

"Your girl, she slipped out of my hotel just minutes after you left."

"And of course, you never had the presence of mind to hold her."

"I run a hotel, not a menagerie. If you can’t close your monkey’s cage, I don’t have to."

He knows it’s not even worth insulting. Claire is tough on words but not really mean. Just completely disillusioned, like many in this city of perdition. In the meantime, Nick still has a canary on the loose who may get eaten by the first cat. He emerges from the seedy hotel, scanning the street for any potential leads on his elusive target. A hasty glance down the avenue uncovers a slew of drifters, all of them likely fresh off a fix or a dip in the deep end. He spots a figure keeping a vigilant eye and makes his way towards him.

"Not but a mere thirty-minute prior, a dame sauntered past; locks as dark as the night, curves that could make a man weak in the knees, and eyes that could pierce through steel. Clad in a noir black camisole, denim jeans, and shoes as white as a fresh set of pearly whites."

"Not seen."

"Must-see."

"Unseen."

Nick had expectations, but they were as elusive. He couldn't wrap is mind on what he was hoping for, but he knew it wasn't what he got. The disappointment hung heavy in the air, like a blanket too stifling that a mother too protective would have strapped around her firstborn. Because he does not need to breathe to have the clear impression of choking. Or to lose his footing. Rather to lose his footing. Goodneighbor, a place where everyone's got their own game to play. Finding a lead in this town is tantamount to trying to find a sugar cube in a liter of water. He ponders for a beat on the prospect of scouring the usual haunts of the city, but his gut warns him it'd be a fruitless endeavor.

Sarah's well aware of the rules of this universe. She knows that if she lingers in Goodneighbor, he'll track her down. His gut tells him she's playing hard to get, avoiding him on purpose.

But Nick is a detective. A damn good detective. He's a man on a mission, tracking down those who don't want to be found. His livelihood depends on his ability to locate the elusive and the evasive. He's a finder, a seeker of the lost and the missing. Frequently, it's the ones who don't wish to be found. He strains his mind.

The dame had her laundry slung over her shoulder, a bag full of God-knows-what (which he should've pried into a little more), a peculiar gadget that looked like a gadget from the future, no heat, no bullets, and no clue where the hell she was.

Where might she have vanished to, other than some godforsaken abyss?

He saunters down the main driveway, his footsteps echoing in the still morning. As he approaches the city gate, his mind raced with thoughts. He feels that she already has too good a run and that if he continues to think while making the statue, she will pass away before he understands where she may have gone.

He then ventures beyond the city limits; the grim reality of the wasteland greeted him once again. The desolate ruins of a once-thriving civilization loomed before him, a haunting reminder of the world that once was. The air was broad with the stench of decay and destruction, a sickening cocktail of dust, rot, and the unmistakable metallic tang of blood. It was a scene that he had witnessed countless times before, yet it never failed to send a chill down his spine. The stench of decay filled the air, a sickly-sweet aroma that made is false stomach churn. The smell of body that were starting to decompose, the flesh peeling away from the bones like wet paper. Two centuries have come and gone, but the haunting scenario still persists. A new body, a new victim, a few hours or days later, the smell of decomposition is added to that already present, a cycle that is renewed without end.

He does not detect any smell of fresh blood in the area, which is a good first indication. Sarah's luck was running thin as she dared to venture beyond the safety of Goodneighbor's walls. The looming threat of a super-mutant's deadly strike or a raider's unforgiving bullet was ever-present.

As he reached the end of the aisle, he found himself at a crossroads. Where to go from here, he pondered. To his left, a notorious super-mutant burrow lurked. Their lair was nestled in a nearby edifice, and despite Nora's penchant for scrubbing it spotless on lazy Sunday afternoons, they always returned. The joint's a damn fine stash spot to ditch. Sarah's got an eye for the lay of the land, and that's a fact she can't afford to ignore.

The path ahead was blocked by a heap of debris, towering and daunting. It seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, but not entirely impossible to overcome. On the other side, the gunners have long taken possession of the square. It's a truth that's been around the block for long times.

Amidst the dank corners of the obstructed street, a path less travelled emerges, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the perilous unknown. It winds its way towards the heart of the Railroad's domain, shrouded in mystery and danger.

Sarah said something about Deacon.

Nick took a long drag from a new lighted cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a sinister haze. With a calculated exhale, he made his move. He therefore took a decisive step, but not too much anyway because he kept an eye over his shoulder and forward, towards the Railroad HQ. This trail ain't his cup of tea, and that's putting it mildly. Less traffic than the one leading to Diamond City, but less traffic than the one leading to Diamond City. One would think that a more heavily travelled route would mean more lookouts, and that’s true, but a more secretive route would mean that if it turns sour, he will be really alone to defend himself. The Diamond City route ain't exactly a bustling thoroughfare for the average Joe or delivery boy. But is at least used by travelers or provisioners. Here before him are silence, ruins, and what can linger in the meanderings of the old city.

The ghouls, they were the worst of the lot.

The small, the big, the ugly, the savage. The wildest ones were the ones that glowed in the dark, but the discreet ones too, the most dangerous. If one want ghouls, this is the place to shop.

Don't go thinking that the Railroad's gonna roll out the red carpet for visitors. They ain't in the business of making things easy. It’s quite the opposite. They encourage such neighbourhoods because they offer the best protection against unwelcome guests. Undesirables of the Institute, yes, but creatures don’t really distinguish between those who are allowed and those who are not. There ain't much difference between a synth, no matter the generation, and a human. As long as those chompers ain't sunk into what appears to be meat, they ain't picky 'bout what's fit for consumption. And once they've clamped down, the prey ain't got much say in the matter.

Nick knows that better than anyone. He'd sacrificed some prime bait to the ravenous maws of those pesky critters, only to be left with the bitter taste of failure as the reward slipped through his fingers. He never let go of his hope to steer clear of trouble, but every time he caught a glimpse of his own visage, he was reminded to tread lightly, like a man with a beating heart instead of a cold machine.

A thorough search was something he had wished for. He wished he could have knocked on the doors of HQ to establish that a strange lady had taken sanctuary there. Under Desdemona's sarcastic gaze and Deacon's sly smile, he would have wanted to be able to gently reprimand her for fleeing. Perhaps he would have relished the sight of Carrington's eyes darting around or the alluring expression on Glory's countenance. He would have dug all that. Much more than seeing thirty of these bloodthirsty ghouls flock around a telephone pole that threatens to fall to the ground under their weight, throwing into the rubble and their claws the bird that took refuge there.

This is not the worst-case scenario; the worst would have preferred her to be dead and well dead, but that’s not far from it.

He’s not Nora; he's himself. He's got himself a sweet little piece that can spit lead. Nora deftly maneuvered the sleek 44, pushing its mechanics past the limit. Her innate talent for these machines made it a formidable force to be reckoned with. But thirty ghouls. He knew it was dramatic, so he took it seriously. It was going to be a long day. That was more than he could handle, even for a tough guy like him. As he ruminated, he absently patted down his pockets, feeling for any clues that might be hiding within.

As per usual, a measly pair of grenades is all that's left of the dozen his partner had bequeathed him on their mission. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as he tossed Molotov cocktails and grenades with reckless abandon. Yet, she continues handed him explosives. Only a pair remains. He had two grenades, a handful of bullets, and a swarm of ghouls closing in.

He had a face of old synth, with joints that creaked like they were rusted shut. He couldn't run if his life depended on it.

There she was, a dame from another realm, clutching onto the cold, hard bars for dear life. Her eyes darted around with a sense of hopelessness, until they met his.

Damn, there's a glimmer of optimism in that gaze. Even if it never went down, he wouldn't have let it go. He yearned to offer her something beyond mere hope. He had witnessed one too many of these types of scenarios to be phased. The bird's fate hangs in the balance as it dangles from the branch, its life teetering on the edge of a knife. Should he break free, he may yet survive, but with a heavy heart. However, the more probable outcome is far more sinister - a furious Nora prowling the seedy underbelly of the city, leaving a trail of carnage in her wake, to find a dismantled synth. Another creature lies dead, its body torn apart like a rag doll, alongside a shredded human who met a similar fate.

He casts off the weight of his cynicism. He ain't gonna let the worst go down, and he'll pimp the best like a tech upgrade. What are the odds? His eyes darted around the place, searching for any sign of refuge. He spotted a rundown apartment nearby, barely standing on its last walls. Its crumbling structures offered a fleeting protection from the unforgiving surge. He's got options. He can shatter the surge, blast the swell, and take aim at the remnants of the tide. The notion is hazy, a flicker of optimism, yet presently, he rides the waves of acquiescence.

He deftly navigates the treacherous waves, seeking solace on his solitary perch amidst the tempest. He's keenly aware that the moment he pulls the trigger, the tide will come crashing in, leaving him no opportunity to miss a single shot. Any stray bullet could mean curtains for him.

Take aim at the peepers. If he ain't take a life, he sure as hell can leave a goule sightless. He exhales the same scent as the debris lingers around him, doesn't it?

And there he was, with his finger on the trigger, taking aim. And then the rush begins. He pulled the trigger again and again, the sound of gunfire echoing through the empty streets. The swell fractured in a violent rupture. The time had come. He delivers the last two rings, promising himself an exciting wedding night as his fiancée's fate approaches. He ain't one to waste time tallying up the numbers. The sound of gunfire echoed through the empty streets as he continued to pull the trigger. He fires off rounds like a madman, his trigger finger numbs to the bone. Can't even distinguish his metal hand from his good, the recoil's got him all twisted upside down. He would think that both are painful. Especially when the masquerades of human beings reach him. He was a fool to think he had a plan. The weight of the situation hit him like a harvester hauling through wheat, and all he could do was laugh at his own naivety. The swell crashes down, yet he persists in firing, relenting not. In the lull between rounds, he delivers a brutal blow with the butt of his piece. And it packs a punch. He takes a moment to reload, a brief reprieve in this never-ending game of predator and prey. Consider his mechanical arm. The sound of a gunshot as he pulled the trigger.

With a final click, the deed was done.

The chamber was empty. No lead left to fly. Yet the ghouls still attack with renewal. The ammo's dry, the grenades are spent, and the only company left are the ghouls. He brandishes his piece like a club, striking with a vengeance deal. He throws a punch so fierce; he can't even tell which way his own arm is pointing. Claws sink into his flesh, and teeth try to reduce his coat to even more shreds than it already is.

If the ghouls don't do it, Ellie will take care of him permanently. If Ellie doesn’t, it’s Nora. He's a corpse on two legs, a walking testament to the grim reaper's handiwork. Kind of like those ghouls around him.

"Eh! We could have ourselves a merry band, instead of tearing each other limb from limb. Don't you fancy that? Our mugs were so damn hideous; we would make a shock team."

There's one or two that making a funny expression, but it's just a ploy to catch them off guard. He felt a sudden tug, like a hook sinking deep into his ribs. Something strong enough to knock him out. As he was staring at the ceiling, he wondered where it all went wrong. Amidst this ocean of limbs and fangs, he couldn't no longer discern one from the other. He knew the endgame all too well. As he plummeted backwards, he knew without a doubt that this was the end. Once he hits the pavement, they'll smother him like a funeral shroud, sinking their teeth in and leaving him for dead.

He couldn't even land a punch on 'em.

He shut his eyes tight, attempting to distract his thoughts from the agony ripping him asunder. He got any idea how many are still standin'. It was hard to tell. Five, seven? Yet enough to shatter any hope of an easy way out.  But one thing was for sure, he had been trigger-happy. Thirty slugs, thirty creeps. A pair of deadly grenades. If he were Nora, he'd be tallying up the bullets he's got left. But he's Nick. Nick lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The gun lay in his hand, cold and empty. It was as empty as his soul. He had no bullets left, no means of protection. He was vulnerable, exposed to the ravenous ghoul. The city was a dangerous place, and he always knew it well. All he could do was wait for the inevitable, his pockets were barren, devoid of any contents.

He ought to have savored a final puff of smoke before embarking on his journey. The package nestled in his inner pocket, forever out of reach. Maybe one day, a scavenger. He couldn't help but wonder if there'd be any scraps left of him.

His tactics appeared to be effective. The sting of claws and the bite of teeth no longer register in his sensors. The weight of the beasts no longer bears down on his limbs and stomach. The treacherous and infinite attack that surrounds him no longer registers by his intern.

"Nice place for a nap. If that's your fancy, we've got some cozy beds just a couple blocks down."

"I believed this batch of synths wasn't catching any shuteye."

"Okay, new ones."

Nick slowly pries open his weary eyes, one at a time. Two enigmatic beings struggle aside, disposing of the lifeless husks that surround him like a veil of death. It was the sunglasses that gave him away, amidst a sea of faces and costumes. One could spot him from a mile abroad those dark lenses hiding his eyes but revealing his identity. Nick couldn't help but ponder if the spy was privy to the extent of his treachery. But when you're in the dark and clueless...

Nick was in the dark about the second one, but Deacon's comment hinted at a fresh face in the game.

He was above all taken aback by the fact that he hadn't caught the sound of any gunshots. He ought to have, but he didn't. Or did the grunting, just inches from his ears, cover them? The gumshoe ain't one to get caught up in the nitty-gritty in this like time. He grasps the proffered hand with a firm grip, but as soon as he rises, he disregards the barrage of inquiries and bolts into the alleyway.

"What's gotten into him?"

"He's got a dame to find."

"Where's the girl?"

He spun around to face the spy, his voice sharp as a knife, as he noticed the crow's nest was deserted.

"At HQ. She sauntered in, on her knees. She pleaded us for help her. By the way, pal, Dez wants to have a little chat with you about the hush-hush side of our joint."

Start

Previous

[ocdhuacheng]

Anyway as i was SAYING before i was so RUDELY SILENCED last week:

If devils get their power from humans, if humans were wiped out, would that mean the devils will be wiped out as well? And if this is the case, is that what the death devil (calling her that for now even if fujimoto is pulling a funny one on us) wants? Does she want to cause not just the end of mankind but the end of devilkind as well, including herself? Since she is a primal fear, i bet theres no other way for her to die, and i wouldnt put it past her to Want to die. It would probably be something super poetic and honorable to her. So this extinction event might just be an elaborate suicide for her because its the only way she Can die. As long as humans fear death, she will keep coming back, and humans are never going to stop fearing death, so the only way to die would be to kill all the humans? (or get eaten by chainsaw man ig. I forgot about that part lol). Also if this is the case why did she wait until now if she had all of human history to start this?

Anyway thats what i was thinking when i read it last week, but this weeks translation is kind of different. Obviously i dont know japanese so theres a loss of information for me but based on this official translation it seems like the death devil, if thats what she is, is not working alone. Fami says shes the ‘first of the devils who will shepherd the world to the ultimate terror’, while last week the translation said something like she was the devil that was the origin of all fear. So i'm not sure what to make of this new translation rn. I mean i dont think it necessarily contradicts what i was thinking before, maybe there are a bunch of devils that follow death and are willing to die for her or want to die themselves? idfk

also.

All the evidence seems to point to her being the death devil, but IF fujimoto is pulling a fast one with us, my guess would be that she could be the pain devil as well. Pain can drive people to suicide, though the people she killed didnt seem to be in pain, even mental pain, they seemed to be more of in a trance, so take this with a grain of salt. I’ve seen people hypothesize that she is the depression or suicide devil, but I dont think that those devils would be primal. If the eternity devil or the cosmos devil are not primal i dont see how the depression devil would be primal. and i think the fear of depression would at the very base of it be a fear of emotional pain, so i feel like that would fall under pain’s jurisdiction.

The reason why i brought up the pain devil originally wasnt actually because i was thinking she was gonna be a part of the story, but was actually due to the “origin of all fear” comment that fami said in the last translation, that seems to have disappeared in this one lol so idk. At the time i was thinking that i disagree with fami/fujimoto saying (or implying?) that death is the origin of all fear (not that it would have changed the writing or that it mattered or anything, just that its my personal opinion like. Philosophically. Or whatever) The reason why i think this is, yeah it's true that when you boil down a lot of fears down to their very basics, they can be said to be derived from a fear of death. But if someone is in so much pain, death becomes a release for them. I feel like pain is almost as strong or even just as strong of a motivator as death is when people are motivated by fear. So idk! I dont know if i have a point with any of this anymore.

Anyway another question is, is this primal fear that showed up at the apartment in march of 1998, and the “great king of terror” that will descend in july of 1999 the same devil? Or are they different? And if so which one is the death devil and which one is a different primal fear?

[smalltownoutcasts]

Continued thread with: @ellevenie

“Wow, shit, Misty. Talk about doom-mongering,” Elle muttered, spitting out a chuckle. “You’re not going to be eaten by a bear. We can always just trip up someone else and run,” she said with a shrug. Obviously she was joking, but she knew some people didn’t appreciate her gallows humour. “I’m not a doctor, either. I’m a wannabe paramedic at best. I mean, I have seen some grizzly shit in that year I’ve been in that program. There was this guy who got his hand caught in some machine and it got all squished. Looked like Coach Scott’s leg.” Might have been why Elle had been the least phased by it. She was rather certain that someone her age shouldn’t really have been exposed to this, but medicine rarely dealt with pleasantries. Who needed horror movies if she saw that shit every weekend?

“I don’t give a fuck about being some sort of hero. If you want that spot, please. I’ll help you.” Elle knew that Misty Quigley wasn’t exactly the most popular girl at school. While Elle herself had zero friends, either, she liked it that way. People left her alone, especially after beating up that Becky Whatshername. She had observed Misty today, watching how she was thriving under everyone’s attention. Who was she to steal the limelight she didn’t want anyway? “I’d say I got a grade two wrist sprain, which can take up to twelve weeks to heal, so you’ll be in charge of this for a while longer. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Elle would get over herself and give Misty a hug in this situation, but hugs with only one arm sucked, and she didn’t want to move. Instead, to show some support, she rested her head on Misty’s shoulder. She knew that this was like feeding a stray cat that was going to follow her around for the rest of its life now, but she didn’t like the other girls awfully much. Misty Quigley was easier to stomach.

"Hey, it's hard being cheery 24/7. Besides, I'm a lot darker then you think. But why give people yet another reason to make fun of me." She sighed, before twisting the cap back off the water bottle comfortable with the idea of taking another drink knowing how easy it would be to off one of the other girls if it involved wild animals, "Guess since we're tripping people in front of bears now, I'll have another sip..." She looked to Elle with a smug, but sad grin, before downing a little more of the coveted liquid.

Hearing her new friend's tale about a smooshed hand had intrigued Misty, and seemed to further her interest in the macabre. Maybe a career in healthcare would be in her future, if they ever made it out of the middle of nowhere alive, of course, "So tell me more about this paramedic stuff. Can anybody do it?" Elle was easily taking her mind off of the troubles that had seemed to plague her not five minutes earlier. It was strange having someone who actually took interest in her, not for the skills she offered the group, but because they genuinely wanted to talk to her.

"Here. Now you drink. The more dehydrated you are, the longer it's going to take your body to heal that grade two wrist sprain." Misty handed the bottle over, but was taken by surprise by her fellow classmate resting her head on Misty's shoulder. Yet she kind of liked it...That was a lie. She liked it a lot. So much so that a genuine grin had replaced the former sad smile, "No one's ever hugged me like that before..." She looked down feeling her glasses slip again, "Thank you..." Misty didn't know what else to say, but she enjoyed the bond that she was already forming with Elle.

[orphanedshadow]

continued from (x) with @ladiesandwitches

“Oh my….that sounds awful. You were beaten? Because she thought there was something to be beaten out of you? For Satan’s sake, that’s awful. it doesn’t matter what you are, what you supposedly have inside you, nothing justifies beating anyone, especially your own child, just because they think it’ll will ‘purify’ you. That’s disgusting” Admittedly, so was the sound of Kara getting full on devouring her own mother, no matter how abusive she might have been. But then, Sabrina was never really into the whole cannibalism thing, which her Aunt Zee seemed to think was perfectly normal, and healthy. It’s humanely sourced, Sabrina, we’d never kill a human simply to have something for dinner, for Satan’s sake, it’s as if you’ve never eaten one of your Aunt Hilda’s roasts. She’d probably find this whole ‘eating your abusive mother’ thing totally normal and not at all disgusting.  But Kara had obviously been through something; now was not the time to question the whole blood cannibal thing.  “My Aunt Zelda would say it’s not darkness in your blood it’s power, and it’s the world that decides it’s dark. Ms Wardwell would probably say the same; actually, she knows all about this kinda thing  so she’d probably know exactly why you’re so good with all the…” Sabrina’s eyes flickered over the dark tendrils dancing over Kara’s hand, “shadow stuff. I’m not actually sure what my birthright really brings me, besides a bunch of complications” She gave a small smile before explaining, “Having mortal blood in me as well as witch means both sides think I’m not quite one of them, and it’s also a big target on my back for some people. They think it makes me dirty, that I’m not, I don’t know, a real witch I guess? I don’t know, it’s stupid” Sabrina continued to watch the shadows, almost mesmerised by them. She’d never seen anything like that before, not even when Ambrose was messing around with necromancy or the binding and conjuring spells she’d seen Nick do. “What are they?” She asked, genuinely curious “I mean, like are they all one entity? Or lots of little entities moving as one?”

The statement that it was power that the world decided was dark, well that made her chuckle slightly, twisting the little shadows into the form of a small wispy cat, simply to feel it brush against her fingers as if it was weaving between someone’s legs. “I call it the Darkness because that is how it appears, and how it feels. Like a shadow, something that hides me from sight, protects me from that which may wish me harm. It is instinct, and subconscious…and when I say it is in my blood I mean that literally. I can feel it in my veins, use it to control my blood.”

Another twist of her fingers had the shadows shift, this time into the form of a little bird, one that flitted from fingertip to fingertip with ease. “These are just shadows, they are me, and yet they are not. With these little shadows I can control them somewhat, in that I ask them to take a form and they do. Form dictates function, so they act as they would if they were real creatures. But the darkness itself… if it is anything it is one entity. A scavenger, that made itself from thousands of other things, and that is influenced by those sources, but one entity nonetheless.”

Sabrina’s comment made her smirk for a split second before she regained composure, the feeling of being something ‘other’ one she knew far too well. “In my experience that is generally how people treat things they can not understand or predict. If it is not what they think it should be then there must be something wrong with it, because if not they have to re-evaluate everything that they do.”

[frostcorpsclub]

Of course I had to do Glen’s bestie 🥰

Name: James

Name Meaning: Supplanter "A supplanter takes over or takes the place of someone else, usually on purpose."

Alias(ses)/Nicknames: Jimmy, Junior, Jimbo (BY JACK ONLY, HE WILL COME FOR YOUR BLOODLINE)

Ethnicity: I cant even begin to do the math for this

One picture you like best of your character:

His Cruella De Vil halloween costume!

Three h/cs you've never told anyone:

He's also an anime fan, I think I have mentioned before but he's the reason why Jolyne's name is spelled that way, a suggestion after Jolyne Cujoh (obviously he didn't tell Suzy that.)

James preferred method of killing isn’t torture like his mother or whatever is on hand like his father, he prefers to swallow his victims whole. It’s quick….sometimes.

He got in to a sport from elementary to high school for his father, he’s an excellent baseball player.

Three things your character likes doing in their free time:

1. To go off the last headcanon he loves to play with his dad and sister, they both have inhuman pitching strength so it’s a good challenge!

2. When he gets his power boost from Lucifer and is able to shapeshift in to anyone he takes the form of his mother and tries on her clothes so she can pick out what she wants to wear/if they need any mending.

3. You ever seen a clockwork orange? A little bit of the good ol’ ultraviolence. No one is safe and there’s nothing he won’t do.

Eight people your characters likes/loves:

Himself <3

His little princess Kimberly

His Mommy (using the names he calls them lol )

The bastard also known as Daddy

Rudy

Lucifer

Glenny

Thorn (what he calls Asthore it's kind of mean lol)

Two things your character regrets:

LMAOOO, no ♥

Two phobias your character has:

LMAOOO, no ♥ part 2

I will actually elaborate on this one, one might ask “Isn’t he afraid of losing his power or his beauty” which does make sense to ask but James is so full of himself that he thinks those things are impossible. The way no parent really fears their kid getting eaten by the boogey man, because we all know he’s not real.

Tagged by @askglenandglenda

Tagging: @kindheart525 @melos-magic-ponies @lenorethequietbookkeeper @manbehindthemask @viciouslyfilthy

Character Info Sheet

Name: Glen

Name meaning: "Narrow Valley"

Alias(es)/nicknames: Glenny

Ethnicity: 1/4th Chinese, 3/4ths European (Don't know who because mom doesn't know what her father was and dad doesn't talk about it)

One picture you like best of your character:

That smileeee

Three h/cs you've never told anyone:

1) Jojo fan. They absolutely would go as Doppio and Diavolo with Glenda for Halloween.

2) They still have nightmares of the murders from the Tilly house sometimes.

3) Has snuck out of the house multiple times... and confesses everytime.

Three things your character likes doing in their free time:

1) Reading fantasy books!

2) Doing makeovers for friends/family/themself

3) Snuggling with their boyfriend

Eight people your characters likes/loves:

1) Glenda

2) Their mother

3) Their father

4) Radha Leprechaun

5) Asthore Leprechaun

6) His younger brother (my OC)

7) Themself

8) Honestly a lot of people they meet

Two things your character regrets:

1) To this day though they love the photo, they still regret burning that poor papparazzi man.

2) Grabbing a bottle of booze behind their parent's back on a cruise.... then letting loose the contents of their stomach on the suite.

Two phobias your character has:

1) Heights

2) Megalophobia

""Stolen"" from @murdercouple

I'm tagging: @frostcorpsclub @lenorethequietbookkeeper

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I can't believe nobody has asked this but I couldn't find it in the masterpost - what if Bella went back to Phoenix before Edward got back from Alaska? And how does Carlisle react when Edward travels halfway across the country to eat her?

I like how you know where this is going, anon.

As usual, the caveats.

Caveat

Bella didn't and wouldn't. Edward was weird, yes, but she's not sure what to think of it and hasn't seen him since that first day. He obviously hates her, but he seems to be sick and she's breathed a sigh of relief.

More, she left for a reason. If she goes back then she's just burdening her mother, insulting Charlie, and right back where she started. Nothing will change for the better.

And, I imagine even if Bella did think Edward might kill her, she'd view that as an acceptable outcome. If he eats her, then there's nothing she can do about it, and her mom will be happy with Phil. Tis simply a part of her suffering, equivalent to moving to Forks period.

Bella was never going back to Arizona.

Alright, She Goes Back

Charlie accidentally implies Bella's a burden on him. He in no way intended this or even implied it. He probably accidentally said something like, "Have to remember to buy twice as much food" or "I wish I could use the stove" and Bella flips shit.

She is a burden wherever she goes and seems to be more of a burden on Charlie than even Renee. At least Renee loves her, she and Charlie are practically strangers.

Bella has a good, long, cry in her room, thinks about stupid school with stupid small town people and Edward Cullen hating her for no reason and she can't do it.

She'll run away and live in a tent!

... Alright, so she can't do that, but she really wants to (I actually think she would at this point, and being Bella probably gets eaten by bears).

But to be in line with your ask, ever so reluctantly, Bella trudges home to Arizona and tells her mother it didn't work out. This is beyond embarrassing, makes her feel week and pathetic, but Renee is over the moon as Bella hasn't abandoned her to FORKS and CHARLIE. (Bella never realizes this, but I imagine it causes Renee great distress to be suddenly usurped especially when it's right after she married Phil. This is a clear sign of "Bella does not approve".)

PHIL IS GOING TO BE THE BEST STEP DAD EVER. When he's around. But Renee is determined, Bella will never think about leaving again.

Edward Returns

The girl is gone.

Edward can't help but blame himself and now is terrified as he doesn't know what she suspected. He tells himself that he has to hunt her down to assure the safety of the family, to judge what she saw and see if she'll talk.

He can't tell his family this, though, as they don't seem to see the need. Edward was just a strange kid in class, Bella now is in a large city in which no one has met the Cullens. They will never see her again and now they're assured Edward will never eat her. (Edward does not like that last argument BECAUSE HE WAS GOING TO PROVE HE COULD HANDLE IT.)

He hates the girl even more for running out on him like this. It's completely irrational, but dammit, she clearly exists to spite him.

He tells the family he's going back to Denali, that he'd rather not live in Forks after all, and leaves it to them to pack things up. Forks will just remind him of his almost failure.

Instead of that, he goes to Phoenix. He's just going to find her, see if his gift still doesn't work on her, do some surveillance, and reassure himself. It'll be over in a weekend, he'll be in and out.

On the way he keeps thinking about how she looked at him as well as her scent.

He thinks about how much he hates her, how she seems more like a plot device to make his life hellish than a person. His family will never think of him the same way again because she exists.

By the time he gets to Arizona, he's in quite a rage.

Fortunately for her (and him) he has no idea where she is. And Phoenix is larger than Port Angeles. He cannot find her. He tries, desperately, can't do it. He knows nothing about the mother or where she lives, where Bella went to school. He drives around at night hoping someone's seen her. (No one has.)

He keeps at this for several weeks.

The Family Finds Out

Alice chooses not to cover for Edward. This is a stupid decision on his part, will lead to nothing good, and she has only the vaguest idea why he's doing it, but it will likely end with him eating Bella if he finds her.

The family calls the Denali and, sure enough, Edward never came back.

He appears to be in Phoenix, driving around, looking for Bella Swan so he can eat her.

Carlisle goes to pick him up. Edward is mortified, as is Carlisle, they have a very awkward discussion about letting Bella Swan go and moving on with their lives. Edward... can't. He physically can't. Except he can't explain why he can't.

But if he tells Carlisle that he needs alone time, Alice will just rat on him.

He tells Carlisle he has to do this, Carlisle points out he doesn't have to, at all, he just wants to. It's a pride thing and Carlisle gets it, but Edward has to get over this.

Well, that's an insult too far, and in rage Edward storms out of the conversation. On doing so he realizes... he has to leave. The family will never let him do this or understand and he has no choice.

And given last time, they'll think Edward is leaving the diet. They'll think he's eating Bella Swan, even when he wants to do anything but (except that he really would like to eat her).

Edward gives into despair, leaves, and valiantly tries to pursue the diet and find Bella Swan both. He fails in both tasks. He ends up back on his rapist diet which slips into ordinary people and Bella moves to Florida.