#so are the Thames = the Red Bloods or not??

[zharaely]

Currently having a headache over TCF lore and debating to myself whether or not the Thames are actually the Red Bloods...

Because, consider this, the conversation between Choi Jung Gun and Cale in the Sloth Test didn't say outright that the Thames = the Red Bloods. Choi Jung Gun only asks Cale to find the Red Bloods after realizing that Cale is a Thames.

There was also the conversation between the Sealed God and Cale later on, when Cale asks whether the Thames were a part of the seven hunter families but the Sealed God denies it and says that they were only prey for the Hunters, probably due to their research of time and space.

Then Cotton was also working with the Fake Hilsman (theorized to be a Thames) in the same group, trying to find the Red Bloods.

But...I don't know...I feel like the Thames being the Red Bloods is very fitting?? Y'know, with the red hair and all. If the Thames are not the Red Bloods, maybe they still have a connection to them?? Maybe indirect relations?? Was Sealed God lying when Cale asked that question?? But was there a need to lie about that??

[nonexistent-alfa]

So it's basically confirmed that the Thames household and the Archduke's House of Snow are related? Because I 200% believe they are. Dennis basically confirms it when he recalls the portraits of the last Archduke's family. The youngest young master of that family was speculated to have survived and gone into hiding and continued his lineage somewhere. Now, that happened 200 years ago.

What if the youngest young master of the Archduke's House of Snow fled to a different dimension when his family was annihilated by the Purple Bloods. A dimension which we know as Nameless 1? Of course a fugitive like him wouldn't have continued with the Snow family name. So he started his family of Thames. (Gasp- what if the youngest young master's name was Thames Snow? Or maybe someone else in his family was named Thames whom he named his new family after?) It makes sense because we don't know exactly how far the Thames family's history goes. All the noble households in the kingdoms don't necessarily have to have a history as old as the royal family. The Thames and Snow families both being famous for their red hair is a detail that I don't think Yoo Ryeo Han-nim would have included without deeper intentions.

With that in mind I went back to the chapter where Cale exchanged words with fake Hilsman and... It kinda shook my belief that the Thames are the Red Bloods. Even though I thought before that it's gonna be the same as the Dabi-Touya reveal. But Fake Hilsman admits that he is not a Hunter and seems to have grudge against the Hunters.

In fact he says "anyone with Thames blood should loathe the Hunters". That it'd be a shame if Cale didn't have the drive to annihilate the Hunters. If we think of it in relation to the Archduke's House of Snow and go with the theory that the House of Snow is the predecessor of House of Thames, then it makes sense for the Thames to loathe the Hunters (Purple Bloods) who almost wiped out their ancestors.

Okay, let's make a list of things we know so far in relation to this topic

The Thames household perished when Jour Thames was young. The young Jour, the conscience in the half of Jour's ancient power presumed to be in her mid teens by Cale, says "so I really did end up alone" when she reads the diary of her older self. Which means the Thames household perished sometime after that, but still before she graduated from Academy because that's where she met Deruth and Deruth says the Thames had perished since before he met her. So within that short timeframe of Jour's mid-to-late teens, the Thames household perished (or went into hiding more likely).

Zed Crossman, who became king at a young age, helped erase the records of the Thames household. It's also speculated that Alberu's mom died because of the Hunters. Well, it's only Cale's speculation but it's a highly likely possibility.

After disappearing from the royal palace after it was attacked, Zed has been dimension hopping??? Because God of Death can't track him down because his location keeps changing. Is he the one chasing or being chased? Whichever it may be, I think the answer is pretty clear as to who his enemy is.

I think it's the Five coloured household. They're the only ones who don't have a home base unlike the other households so if Zed is the one doing the hunting then it makes sense for him to be running around. The Black Bloods patriarch said the ones responsible for the incident at the royal palace were the Five-coloured before dying. So if Zed is the one being hunted, it also points towards the same household.

Additionally, Fake Hilsman said there were Hunters present at the Puzzle city battlefield where the Sealed God's temple appeared. Cale noticed a couple of strong individuals recruited by his father were missing at that point. Safe to conclude those were also the wanderers of the Five coloured household.

The Hunter household known as Red Bloods which is thought to be perished is extremely important in all of this since (and this is a spoiler even to myself) Jour's presumed brother (the fake Hilsman), who is a Thames himself, and Cotton (God of War's holy maiden) are looking for them. Choi Jung Gun also told Cale to look for them in the Sloth test.

Which reminds me of the other source of information in Cale's inventory. The white mask worn by the White Star. His ancient powers were Embraced in that mask by Cale. If he only wishes, he could talk to White Star's conscience in the ancient powers, which I don't believe would have disappeared with his soul. He could ask White Star about how the Thames perished.

But, from what we can gather from all this is that the Thames (and Snow) are likely not Red Bloods.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 259

TL;DR - Info dump about GoW, hunters, Demon World, ancient gods, and Thames. Cale has a headache and a neck ache by the end.

Massive Info Dump Today was just overwhelming with all the new information revealed.

Cotton has been excommunicated by GoW because she disagreed with their plans.

Lady Orsena is the new Saintess of GoW, and she was brought in by the hunters.

This entire chaotic situation was caused by 3 groups: GoW, hunters, and the Demon World.

The three groups were working together, but did not fully trust each other.

Demon World had recently been quiet because they got oppressed by the God World and Divine World.

The 5 ancient gods were Balance, Chaos, Justice, Injustice, and Hope.

Ancient gods reigned too long, so lots of gods wanted to overthrow them.

GoB became too strong, so other ancient gods were unhappy.

Hunters were led by wanderers, specifically, the Five-Colored Bloods.

Those wanderers wanted to overthrow the God World, and create an absolute god and a new world.

Cotton is also looking for the Red Bloods.

Cotton's backer is fake Hilsman from the Thames family who helped her cross worlds.

Cotton is immune to Cale's Dominating Aura.

All these information is just insane... Truly befitting the chapter title of "Chaos Plus Chaos." And Cale himself had the same thought. The situation had grown so big that in the end, he felt anxious if he would succeed. He even got an intense headache and neck ache afterwards.

But I like how the dots are slowly being connected. White Star's connection to the Demon World and hunters, and GoW Saintess Cotton being in Endable, were all because the three groups were working together.

The Red Bloods part confused me though. It seemed like the Thames family and the Red Bloods were not the same family because Cotton was looking for the Red Bloods despite having met a Thames family member (fake Hilsman).

Ending Remarks Despite being overwhelming, I liked today's chapter because we finally got answers to some of our questions. As for the next chapter, it would probably be another info dump or Cale's group continuing their plan to rob Ryan's castle.

[itsbubbleteataro]

Hehe inspiration is fun

I'm kinda in the mood for some angst so let's get to it! I ended up getting inspired by one of my favorite songs by my favorite band.

Please enjoy!

Pairing; human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Warning; Alastor being Alastor, death, gore, murder, cannibalism 

Six feet under the stars

Summer of 1932 in New Orleans

You and Alastor had been living together for quite some time now. You moved in with him around two years ago and have been engaged for a little over two months now.

Tonight was a rare night where Alastor had gone out again for both a hunt and a surprise for you. Yes, you knew about his hunts and to be honest you didn't mind them. I mean you yourself had been doing something similar.

You were the daughter of a tea salesman and were well versed in the art of tea. Sometimes when dealing with a rather rude customer as you worked at your father's shop, you snuck a little something extra into the teabag, just a pinch of arsenic. Okay well maybe not just a pinch but enough to kill a man.

Anyways you looked at yourself in the mirror checking your appearance once more in the mirror. You wore a simple sundress as it's the summer and summer in the bayou can get quite hot and swampy.

You looked at the paper on the dining room table double checking where it said to meet Alastor. You laced up your boots with the heels before you stepped outside, walking down to Thames street where your lover wait for you.

*******

When you approached your fiancé you saw that he had changed out of his hunting clothes, he must have stopped at home while you were busy getting yourself ready.

With a hum the two of you linked arms and walked towards the outskirts of a different part of the bayou. Don't get me wrong, Alastor still knew this part very well and you trusted him in every way shape and form and in turn he trusted you. Trusted you enough to see him covered in blood, eating human hearts, even his hair in its naturally curly state.

Alastor lead you over to a waiting blanket and picnic basket, taking your hand he brought you to sit down.

"I was hoping we could have a lovely picnic this fair evening baby" 

His eyes shown in the low lighting. You swooned. He was always doing sweet things like this for you. You helped him set up the food, your matching engagement rings sparkling in the starlight. He had picked out matching rings himself, the main stone in yours being a ruby with small diamonds around it. A blood red stone, fitting choice for two serial killers.

About halfway through your evening you both had finished the food. It was one of the rare occasions that you too indulged in the taste of human flesh. Your head was against his shoulder as you watched the fireflies dance in the distance, taking in each others peace when you felt Alastor stiffen.

You were pulling your head back to ask what was the matter when you felt it, a scorching, red hot, searing pain in your shoulder. Your hand flies to your shoulder as a scream is ripping from your throat. Alastor's eyes widen and for the first time in a long time he feels terror make its way into his heart.

You, his love, had been shot by a clumsy hunter who had mistaken the two of you for a pair of bobcats out of all things.

You hunched over, eyes full of tears as you even try to process of what happened when a second shot rings out, this one hitting your torso.

Alastor was furious, quickly confronting the hunter who had yet to realize that he had infant shot a person. All you could hear was the hunters scream as Alastor quite literally ripped him apart with his blade.

He first cut the tendons in the hunters legs so he couldn't run, then sliced the ones in his hands so he can't fight back. Then he stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, stopping only after he had plunged his blade between the fools eyes and twisted it.

By the time he had finished with the hunter he turned to you. Quickly going down to you he held you in his arms. His hands were shaking and he was covered in both your blood and the hunters blood.

You were losing blood fast and you both knew it.

"I should have known better than to call you out tonight-"

"Oh hush up love"

You cut him off. You didn't want him blaming himself for your death. You knew you were going to die when you felt your fingers starting to tingle from blood loss.

Alastor gripped your face with one of his hands,

"My dear, I fear that if you're gone I won't be able to hold back. I may just tear this place apart."

Alastor choked out, feeling tears well in his eyes. You took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch.

"Then tear the world apart if you so desire. Just as long as you promise to meet me again someday"

Alastor nodded his head, his heart breaking in two as your voice became weaker and weaker.

"I love you Alastor"

You reached a hand up to his cheek, rubbing it gently.

"I love you too (y/n)"

Upon hearing such words you know that your body won't be long for this world. You let a gentle smile rest upon your lips, pulling his cheek weakly in an attempt for him to do the same.

He gets the message and forces himself to smile as tears rundown his cheeks. With one last breath your eyes flutter shut, your hand slipping from his face and your soul plummeting straight down to hell.

He holds your body close and sobs. The smile never leaving his face as he does. He sits back up, packing up the picnic and stuffing it all in the basket, blanket it and all. He pushes his arm through the loop of the basket so he can pick up your lifeless body.

He makes his way back to your shared cabin walking through the bayou as he didn't want anyone thinking he had killed you, his precious lover.

He knew he would have to give you the best burial money could buy, so he did just that. Your tombstone was made of marble, your name engraved as "(y/n) Hartfelt".

The day he buried you was one of the worst days of his life, right up when he had buried his mother. He visited your grave daily, telling you about his day. His never stopped grieving.

Fall of 1933

Alastor had been shot burying a body. He had gotten sloppy after your death, his hunts becoming more erratic as he worked through his loss. A hunter had mistaken him for a deer.

First his love had been mistaken for a bobcat and now him a deer, how fate has a way of working.

He welcomed his death, being found with a smile etched on his face for he knew that he could finally reunite with his lover as his soul plummeted down to hell.

He had a matching tombstone to yours, it being placed in the grave yard next to yours. As his coffin was lowered down into the ground and the dirt piled on, he rest easy.

As the two of you could finally be reunited,

Six feet under the stars



[blueteller]

TCF Hunter Families

So in order to keep track of all the Hunter branches and what each of them do, I created a comprehensive list with the all the current information we have on them. Enjoy!

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

1) Branch: Black Bloods Name: Huayan Family ("Fayence" in Adar Terra's raw translation) Last Occupied World: Xiaolen Specialty: "White Magic", aka. dead mana based Black Magic which appears white and is more powerful than regular Black Magic Status: Defeated 2) Branch: Blue Bloods Name: Blood Cult Last Occupied World: Central Plains Specialty: Jiangshi, aka. zombies created by injecting special dead mana into a person's heart, can be made even out of living people; which are called "Living Jiangshi" Status: Defeated 3) Branch: Purple Bloods Name: Currently Unknown, but located in the "Holy Empire" Last Occupied World: Aipotu (Adar Terra's raw translation) Specialty: Dragon heritage, including mixing human and dragon blood, and control over powers of nature Status: Soon to be engaged in combat 4) Branch: Transparent Bloods Name: Currently Unknown, but located in "Transparent Co." Last Occupied World: Earth 3 Specialty: Perhaps something to do with virtual reality…? Still very limited information on them. But Anh Roh Man, aka. Taerang's creator, is related to them. (Perhaps "Anh" is their family name? We will see.) Status: Still fully operational 5) Branch: Five Colored Bloods Name: Currently Unknown, but possibly includes Park So Jin and Jung Yi-Rang (aka. the two who tried to kill Cale in the Sloth Test) Last Occupied World: None, as they seem to be dimensional travelers with no permanent residence Specialty: Wanderers, with possibly god level powers Status: Still fully operational

The last two branches are supposed to be "gone", so they no longer really count as the Hunters, but I'm including them anyway:

6) Branch: Red Bloods Name: Thames Last Occupied World: Nameless 1 (and possibly others, depending where Cale's thief of an uncle ran off to) Specialty: Research branch? Kind of unclear. We'll see if there's any developments Status: In hiding 7) Branch: White Bloods Name: Currently Unknown Last Occupied World: Currently Unknown Specialty: Currently Unknown Status: Elimnated

(Now with visual aid)

[porcelana-r0ta]

Almost Saved You With Prayer

Fandom: Trash of the Count's Family

Relationships: Jour Thames/Deruth Henituse, Jour Thames & Original Cale Henituse

Word Count: 1745

Summary: When her son is born, his Rings are strange, and Jour is heartbroken.

Ao3 Link: [Here]

Her son’s birth is a long and painful one, but it is worth it when a bundle of soft fabric is placed gently in her arms, her little baby still crying angry tears. She’s so in love with her child and exhausted from delivering him that she doesn’t immediately notice the Rings of Life that circle around him in concentric, overlapping bands. 

“Cale,” she says, her voice hoarse from her own screams. “Cale. His name is Cale.” 

“A perfect name for the heir of the Henituse County,” the midwife says kindly. “Shall I send for the Count?” 

“Yes.” She’s breathless. Starstruck by the soft red baby hairs on her newborn’s head. He’s still crying, but she doesn’t care. She just loves. 

“As you wish, Countess.” With a bow, the midwife leaves, and not even a minute later, her husband comes running in. 

“Jour,” he says, panting, his eyes wide and full of wonder. He is quickly at her bedside, his gaze darting from his son to his wife. “The baby?”

“His name is Cale,” she says. “He wants to meet his father.” 

Deruth’s hands tremble as he takes Cale from her. One hand under the baby’s body and the other under his head, supporting the weight that Cale can’t hold up yet. 

“Hold him closer to your face,” she instructs, “so he can see you.” 

Deruth follows her instruction, and something in Cale stalls. His sobbing devolves into sniffles, and then ceases altogether, hazy little eyes blinking imploringly up at his father. 

Her husband is suddenly in tears himself. 

“Cale,” he says, and his tears fall. “Our son, Cale.” 

“Our son.” Jour smiles the words, safe and happy in her mouth. “We’re parents now.” 

“We are.” Deruth lifts the baby just a little higher and lowers his forehead to Cale’s. “Gods, Cale. Mommy and Daddy will always be there for you.” 

Her smile goes a little smaller at that. 

“Yes, we will.”

xxXxx

The next day, when Jour’s brain is no longer flooded with endorphins and exhaustion, her closest maid, Amelia, hands her Cale, and Jour finally notices the Rings around her baby boy. 

They start from the chest, as everyone’s Rings do, and then expand outwards, one for every year of life the person will experience. Cale’s Rings are healthy and bright silver, normally reassuring, if not for the fact that there are three sets of Rings. One is the healthy and bright set, another is a dim set of flickering gold, and the last is a rusting brown, sick in its life. 

Her breath catches in her throat, and if she were not in bed, she would have surely collapsed. 

“My Lady?” inquires Amelia, her tone cautious. “Is everything alright?” 

“Oh, yes,” she says. “I was… I was just struck by the wonder that is my baby.”

“He is lovely,” Amelia says happily. “The County is surely blessed to have him.” 

“Yes,” Jour agrees. “Amelia, please give me a few moments alone with my son.”

“Yes, my Lady.” And Amelia bows out, leaving Jour to stare at the two sets of Rings, and how the first set cuts off so abruptly and violently in slivers of silver. 

“Oh, my baby boy,” she whispers in the loneliness of her bedroom. “What happens to you?”

She reaches out, her hand shaking, and she latches onto that broken Ring, the fortieth band. Her fingernails dig into the noncorporeal form.

Show me, she commands her Ancient Power. Show me everything.

She sees blood and fire and agony and regret. The tear of flesh and bone. A figure kneeling in blood. And she hears weeping and screams and the clash of blades against blades and armor alike. 

And then she hears it: 

“Do we have a deal?” 

“...We do.”

She comes out of the vision crying for her son. She can’t see through her tears. 

“Cale, my baby.” She places her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs. With her other hand, she pulls Cale to her chest, as if to bury him there forever and protect him from that wretched future. “No! No, please, no, not my baby....”

xxXxx

When Jour was a child, she had a brother fourteen years her senior. His name was Ashur, and by the time she was capable of storing memories, he was married with a son of his own, 

“Jour,” he said once when she was sighing over a boy at age fifteen. “Don’t be too excited. We are Thames.” 

“I know,” she replied, annoyed. Little sisters were always annoyed at older brothers, no matter the age difference. “I can still like them.” 

He gave a sad little smile, “Yes, you can. Perhaps I was too harsh. You won’t always be able to enjoy this time, after all.” 

She wrinkled her nose, “You sound all old, Orabeoni.” 

“I’m decently old, for a Thames.” 

“Our parents are older.” 

“You and I both know that Mother and Father are the exception, not the rule.” 

Her chest became heavy, and Ashur continued, “Time gives the Thames enough mercy to live on.”

“I know,” she whispered, and she pretends not to see the way Ashur’s thirtieth Ring breaks into red sparks of nothingness. 

xxXxx

The maids think she has postpartum depression, and she doesn’t know how to explain herself, so she doesn’t correct them. She just continues to pour herself over her old Thames texts, searching for any way possible to spare her son from his pain. 

By the time he’s a year old and Deruth tearfully begs her to take care of herself, she has to start looking for a different path. 

She pulls aside Head Butler Ron Molan, who’d been hired a year and a half ago. 

“Ron,” she says. She bounces her son on her hip to keep him from being fussy. “I’m sure you’re aware that Henituses don’t hire just anyone.”

“Of course, my Lady. This Ron is pleased to have a job here so that his son might be raised well.” 

“That’s good.” Jour plays with her son’s red hair that matches her own. “Ron. I know what the Molans used to do on the Eastern Continent.” 

“Ho?” His voice is suddenly dangerous and quiet, but Jour knows him, knows his Rings and his son’s Rings, and she thus knows she will be fine. 

“I want you to protect Cale,” she says. She looks up from her son’s hair to meet Ron’s eyes. “Protect my son, Ron, and you and your son will never have to run again.” 

He relaxes just a bit, but it’s enough. 

“This Ron would never do otherwise, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She sighs, presses a kiss into Cale’s hair, and says, “Thank you. Thank you, Ron.”

xxXxx

There’s not much else to do after ensuring her boy will live as long as possible, somehow until age forty and eighteen and seventy-three all in one. The Thames studied time, not space, but there are still enough cross-referenced texts in her library that she knows it’s not regression but transmigration. 

Her baby will be leaving his family, not just like her, but it will be enough. 

When he’s four years old, she runs her index finger around his fifteenth silver ring, the future flashing across her mind’s eye, and thinks, Well, not much of a family. Not much of a father.  

She asks Deruth to always be there for her child, to say no when he needs it, and Deruth just laughs. 

“Well, he’ll have everything he’ll ever need!” he says. “He’s a Henituse, and your son, at that. How can I say no to your visage?”

She gives a wan, watery smile. That might have been nice to hear before Cale was born, before she saw his future. 

“We can’t let him be too spoiled, dear.”

Deruth embraces her from behind, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her into his chest. He buries his face in her red hair, “Well, no.  But he deserves it.”

“It would be a disservice to our son.” 

He sighs out a laugh, “You’re right. You always are. No, we won’t spoil him.”

“You’ll say no when he needs it? When it’s best for him?” 

“Yes, of course. Especially if it’s best for him.”

“Good,” she smiles brighter. 

Later that night, she creeps into her son’s room. At four, he sleeps soundly, no longer a colicky newborn or a toddler in pain of teething. She rests her finger on his fifteenth silver ring, and weeps. 

Nothing has changed. Her husband is a liar. 

Jour doesn’t know what to fucking do. 

xxXxx

Jour runs her fingers around Cale’s fifteenth and eighteenth silver rings and tries not to feel betrayed whenever she looks at her husband or the Molans. 

It’s not their fault her son is so purely Thames that they believe his act without any training.

xxXxx

Jour’s son is eight and she is on her last Ring. She’s done everything she can for him and still she’s done nothing. There’s only one thing left to do.

One night, while Deruth is out on business in the city nearby, she cries herself to sleep. 

When she awakes, she writes a letter. 

“To the person who will be living in my son’s body…” She accepts what must be done. The man—White Star—in her son’s future cannot be allowed to acquire her full Ancient Power.

xxXxx

Next week, when Jour leaves for her trip to Harris Village, she kisses her husband. Then, she hugs her son, tiny and small and so full of love that he would destroy himself for children sprung on him with no notice, and she only barely holds back her tears. 

“Goodbye, Mama. I love you!”

“And I love you, Cale.” She holds his face, rubbing her thumbs under his brown eyes, and he smiles trustingly up at her, believing that she’s coming home healthy. 

Her heart breaks. She hugs him again. 

Deruth reaches out to hold her hand while she hugs Cale, and she takes it, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it drop. 

She loves him, too, and she would choose him in every lifetime. But she doesn’t want to touch him when she knows what he will do to her son.

Long after the carriage has left Rain City’s limits, she weeps. 

She is leaving her son with people who will let Cale rot alone in alcoholism and self-hatred, the joke and scorn of noble and common society alike.

Maybe that makes her worse than all of them.

[therewasatale]

bridge

On Ao3.

"What are you doing up there?"

Near to the docks, at the top of the bridge he found Geoffrey - sitting beside two full bottles, working on to emptying the third one in his hand.

The hunter flinched, then hiccupped before glancing up at him. "Regrettin' some of my more recent life decisions and hiding from my responsibilities. If you'd like to join me, there's plenty of room for two." He waved the bottle towards his left; he was sitting on the railing.

"You shouldn't be this close of the edge, McCullum."

"Didn't ask about your opinion, leech." The answer almost sounded like a burp. "Sit or leave."

"Very well." Jonathan sat next to him; his legs hanging over the edge of the bridge. Years ago, he himself experienced the feeling that people experience on higher places, the call of the void. Those feelings didn't appear anymore, he knew too well he would survive the fall anyway, or instinctively use his powers to get into safety in the last seconds. The only thing that ever tempted him now to do reckless things was the blood of the living.

"You knew I was up here?" Geoffrey had the Ekon's full attention.

"No, I've just arrived back to the city, and I saw someone sitting at the edge of the bridge so I wanted check on whoever may it be."

"Doctor-leech."

"Something like that, yes. A living paradox."

Deep below them, the Thames was surging, they couldn't see it in the darkness, but they could hear the floating ice crashing into the shore.

As Geoffrey sighed, a puff of warm fog left his lips. "Where were you? My men told me they couldn't find you anywhere for weeks?"

"Scottland." Jonathan's voice became low, heavy with thoughts and feelings.

Geoffrey glanced at his way briefly, but took a big swing from the whiskey. He enjoyed as the heavy alcohol warmed his insides, and dulled his own thoughts. "Wasn't a vacation I suppose."

"No. I'm afraid, it wasn't."

Another big gulp from the whiskey – he used it as a remedy quiet often, ease him up after hunts, or losing one of his men. "You sound sad, leech."

Jonathan didn't look at him, his eyes were focused on something else – he was able to feel the warmth of the flames, heard the cracking of the fire. "I lost a friend, of sort. She -- I couldn't save her; I was too late." The irony that the only people he felt like could talk to was the hunter who almost killed him.

"Sorry. It happens." Geoffrey raised the bottle to his lips; his eyes stared at the gray clouds above him. "You can't save everyone."

"Yes, a lesson I had to learn early a in my profession - and then in the war too."

They sat silently next to each other, just two men who had a lot to think about, and lot to dealt with in regards of the past. After losing, and fighting and bleeding in a war they didn't not choose.

"You let me live."

Jonathan glanced at the hunter's way.

"You could have killed me, or turn me, but you didn't."

"I was hoping maybe you would try to understand us in the future, not just continue slaughtering my kind."

"Naivety."

Jonathan couldn't help but smile - it was true of course. "Maybe, but right now you are sitting next to an Ekon and not attacking it blindly."

The only answer he got was a prideful scoff.

"I'd like to think that naivety might help the world to be a bit better."

The hunter rolled his eyes, and swallowed the last drop from his brother. Then he leaned forward a little, above the yawning darkness over the edge of the bridge.

"Listen." He mumbled and let go of the neck of the bottle.

They sat in silence, waiting, and seconds later they heard the crack as the ice broke and the bottle splashed in the icy water. Both of them let out a small chuckle. Two men, who just had some childish fun.

Jonathan let out a gentle huff. "And why are you here, McCullum?"

"No, I'm not drunk enough to answer." Geoffrey opened up the second bottle. "You talk instead, what did that thing look like?"

"Thing?"

"Red Queen."

And everything turned back into reality. As if focused by the lens of memory. The Ekon saw the godlike apparition before his eyes, he could never forget her. "Scary."

"What? Really?"

"Her body was made out of blood; she was stronger and faster than anything else. It was something different. I can still hear the echo of her voice inside my head, and feel the pain where she was able to wound me." Jonathan's hands trembled. "An apparition that I knew was not of this world and that would never care about the existence of such tiny creatures as mine or yours. I felt insignificant, nothing even - but I had to fight this battle to stop the Disaster."

The Ekon swallowed back the words. That through the fight he felt the connection to the Red Queen – like a child, who just faced a never seen relative, but felt the similarity deep inside his bones.  

Geoffrey rubbed his face into his hand, suddenly the whisky tasted bitter. "I saw one of them. Skals," He stared at the cloud again. "She was running, hunting down a poor stray cat but couldn't catch it. Not so far from here."

Jonathan sifted next to him; his fingers nervously poked at the metal of the bridge.

"She talked - leech actually pled me to let her live." Geoffrey drunk to get rid of the memory of the Skals' face. "Told me she was just out for food, and didn't hurt any human. She had a bloody ugly scar on her face, and that hand." He shuddered.

The Ekon almost asked the question that burnt inside him, but something made him remain silent.

"But her voice - it was human just like me, her eyes were human " the alcohol made him talk," Just like yours. And like a fool, I let her go. Watched her scurry away in the snow, holding that torn cloth over her deformed body." He exhaled; the mist rose in front of his face, disappearing into the air.

"Would you be angry with me if I told you that I'm really proud of you?"

"Oh, fuck off!" The hunter snarled, but there wasn't really anger in his voice. "I failed to do my duty! I let a monster go and now if she kills someone their blood will be on my hand!"

"Maybe." Jonathan slowly nodded. "Or maybe you gave a chance to someone who was robbed from their future."

"Why didn't you turn me?" The hunter sounded quiet; his voice felt far away. "You could have, I saw it in your eyes you were thinkin' about it."

"And turn you into something like me?" Jonathan glanced down at his own hands. "And curse you with this fate? Yes, I thought about it, for a second."

"Yet you didn't."

"Believe me or not, I was worried that you may would try to do something stupider when everything calms down. Besides that, a lot of people are counting on you. Turning the leader of the guard of the Priwen could have cause a civil war inside of them. And that would have meant more danger to the people. We already have a war and an epidemic - too many good people have died already."

"Can't argue with that." Geoffrey took a hand rolled cigarette from his pocket and lit it. The faint light of the matchstick was quickly extinguished in the air as it fell into the void below. He took a deep inhale, so his lungs could fill up with smoke, tasted the bitterness of the tobacco, then exhaled. "Will you stay?"

Jonathan glanced at his way with unsure questions in his eyes.

"In the city." Added quickly the hunter.

"Yes, I'm planning to work in Pembroke, a lot of people need help, and they're still understaffed. The Spanish-flu is still around, even if the Disaster is not anymore."

"Good." Geoffrey exhaled the word with another puff of smoke.

"Good?" The Ekon raised an eyebrow, of course he heard him.

"Good." The hunter looked into his eyes, held his gaze for seconds that felt longer than he should have, then glanced up at the clouds.

Jonathan felt a warmth flutter in his chest. As he looked up to the grey sky a tiny snowflake fell on the tip of his nose.

[queenlua]

whats the poem you really like whose author seemingly has not published anything since?

poem is under the cut; author is Mark Blaser; i'm preeeetty sure it was originally published in the Vanderbilt Review sometime in the late 00s? but don't have the original copy on me anymore

also i don't know anything about poetry so uh. grain of salt idk what makes poems Good or Bad or anything like that:

Letter From a Soldier to His Wife Written by Isaac Shelby After the Battle of the Thames, Canada 1813 My Dearest Susannah,                                       We were a storm Of lead rain, darker than our clouds; and now The blood that always coats my walls of sleep Is freshly red and pulsing. I am not The same strong boy whose arms have been your home For forty years. They call me Old Kings Mountain, But I am no more of a mountain than I am the moon, or perfect. I am tired. A soldier's not a class of man, just as Good humor cannot be his constitution. My hands were never born to maim or kill; It was their training, and the fever of The young, like love: for I don't doubt the blood In one man's love be just as hot and red As what I've seen imbrue these fields of war. A soldier's will to shoot through bodies dies As promptly as his will to love his wife, But neither's dead in me because they both Return and are as hard as age to clean For good out of my body. War and love Are a brusque action, learned and forgotten: I did not love you when I pulled men down To death and breathed their bodies' foreign smoke; And presently I do not love to kill, Though yesterday I needed it and soon I may again. But writing now, this first Sleep after bloodshed, the war I've not yet won Is mine with geography. I want home, Where cattle herds are all that wait below The hills, where I can dig my hands in black Kentucky, bloodless earth, where you are small Across my body as I tell you that I love you more than dying loves company.

[edosianorchids901]

Not Too Late

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "hour of denial"

London, 1664

Aziraphale shifted restlessly, glancing out the window of the coffeehouse. He’d hoped to see Crowley sauntering down the wooden walkway. They were supposed to be meeting here, to discuss and swap their latest assignments.

Was he late? No, perhaps Aziraphale was simply remembered the wrong time. Or misread it in the letter. Crowley’s handwriting was awful, after all.

That must be it. No doubt everything was perfectly fine.

Aziraphale read the newspapers for a bit as he waited. He drank another cup of coffee. He gazed thoughtfully out the window, watching the bustle of London.

Crowley still didn’t arrive.

Swallowing hard, Aziraphale fumbled with the newspapers again. Everything was fine. It hasn’t even been an hour yet. There was no cause for concern.

An hour passed. Crowley did not arrive.

Over the millennia, Aziraphale had cultivated a skill for denial. Sometimes, he was utterly unaware of said denial until someone—usually Crowley—pointed it out. Other times, he was aware, and hid behind it like a shield.

This time, he was aware. But if Crowley might be in danger, an hour of denial was the most than Aziraphale could indulge himself.

He rushed out into the damp, chilly day, and hesitated. Crowley could be anywhere. Causing traffic problems, mingling at the Royal Exchange, dying on the bank of the Thames…

Aziraphale shook off the maudlin thought. He set off for the bookshop he managed first, just in case there had been a miscommunication about where to meet. Then he checked St. James’s Park, which had opened to the public a few decades ago. Perhaps Crowley was feeding the ducks.

Crowley was not feeding the ducks. There was no sign of him.

Perhaps Crowley’s rented rooms? Chest increasingly tight, Aziraphale rushed through London’s crowded streets.

His hand shook as he knocked on the door. “Crowley? Crowley, are you here?”

Nothing. And drying blood smeared on the door.

Aziraphale unlocked it via miracle, charged inside, and immediately tripped over a black-clad huddle on the floor.

The huddle moaned, and Aziraphale dropped to his knees with a gasp. He smoothed red hair out of Crowley’s face, trying to catch his gaze. “Crowley? Crowley, what’s happened?”

“Nnnhmg.” Crowley’s muscles trembled under Aziraphale’s hands, his breaths ragged. “Got… got into trouble. Smuggling job went…”

He drew another rattling breath and lapsed into silence. His skin was ashen, cold, clammy. Was he going into shock?

And oh Lord, what would have happened if Aziraphale had simply kept waiting in the coffeehouse?

Wrenched with guilt, Aziraphale slid a hand under his head and eased him onto his back. Crowley jerked and gave a weak cry, glazed eyes wandering. “N-nuh…”

“Easy, it’s just me.” Aziraphale pushed layers of black fabric out of the way until he found a spreading wet patch on Crowley’s side, fabric blood soaked. “Oh dear. What did this to you?”

Another rattling breath. “Shot. Got shot.”

Alarmed, Aziraphale hovered his hand over the wound, focusing on it, studying it. “Oh, oh. The bullet’s still in your belly. I-I’ll need to get it out before I can heal this.”

He had no idea how to do that. But he and Crowley had pulled arrows out of each other plenty of time. This could hardly be worse.

It was worse, mainly because he couldn’t find the bullet at first. His head spun as he dug around in the wound, as Crowley cried out and jerked, as the blood gushed across his fingers.

“Got it!” Aziraphale finally gasped, tears blurring his vision as he pulled out the little metal ball. “Oh, Crowley, I’m sorry that took so long.”

Crowley collapsed into low, broken sobs, tears rolling down his ashen cheeks. His hands twitched and twisted, clawing at the wooden floor. “Hurts, it hurts…”

“I-I’m so sorry. Just hold on a moment longer.” Aziraphale took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He rested one hand across Crowley’s, and hovered the other across the wound. “That’s it, no torn flesh, no injury, no bullet hole…”

He channeled a careful healing miracle, heart pounding. Crowley had lost so much blood, and was hardly breathing now. Would this be enough to save him?

“There, my dear. That ought to be better.” Trembling, Aziraphale hastily wiped his bloody hands off on his breeches, then cupped Crowley’s cheek. “Crowley? Are you with me?”

Crowley didn’t answer. His eyes had closed, and he didn’t respond when Aziraphale squeezed his hand. He was still breathing, just barely.

Sniffling, Aziraphale scooped Crowley’s limp body off the ground and carried him to the rather excessively large bed. He laid Crowley down, miracled a bowl of water and cloths, then wiped away the blood on his side.

“We’ll get you some nice clean clothes when you wake up, hmm?” It likely wasn’t doing much good to talk right now, but Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. “And perhaps a drink. Would you like a drink? Silly question, really, you always want a drink.”

He babbled as he fussed over Crowley, unable to stop his hands and voice from shaking. Crowley was always so very animated, so alive. Seeing him so still stirred a horror that Aziraphale had rarely felt.

Was he in denial again now? Had he been too late? Was Crowley slipping away?

“And-and-and perhaps we could go to the theatre. It’s nice having them reopened, isn’t it?” Desperate, Aziraphale clutched Crowley’s limp hand. “Crowley? My dear? Wouldn’t it be nice to go to the theatre?”

One golden eye cracked open, glaring at him. “Be nicer if I could get some damn rest.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand, tears of relief rising. “Of course, Crowley. You rest, now.”

He lapsed into silence, holding Crowley’s hand as the poor dear dozed. It looked as if he hadn’t been too late after all. And now, there would be plenty of time for chatting, or going to the theatre, or anything they liked.

[alarici]

matthalle, tbc?? (1,300 words)

(some was already posted) @neallo sorz im late

Nothing happens at an expensive pub in South London. The lights are low, dark wood and frosted glass. Vermouth distilled in the 80s. Loafers and calf leather Oxfords.

Matt’s chilled lager sweats in his hand.

Halle stares out the window. Another odd Tuesday. They’re both three drinks in.

It’s fine company.

—

Thing is, Matt has always been taken by vicious blondes. Call it a character flaw, a rule of his life. Since Mary in the first grade. Linda, Mello. Maybe the Amane chick was a bit of a departure, not so vicious, but just barely. A change of pace but not of theme.

And really, who could blame Matt’s blue balls, six months in a one-room with Mello. Lockdown, for the detox and even more for the mission, for fancying Amane’s pigtails and perky tits.

Halle is another beast altogether. Matt’s learned about her three older brothers. Military father, granddaughter of a minister. All-girl’s finishing school in Massachusetts, Oxford, Cambridge, UN, Interpol. Matt imagines she’s the type to wear vintage La Perla under her pantsuits. He knows her heels have red under soles, and that her perfume is worth more than his two year lease in Covent Garden.

She hasn’t let him verify the panties hunch. But to be fair, he hasn’t tried and hasn’t asked. They get along. Every elephant in the room can be shut out with booze, or blow, or chatting about this case or the weather in Nairobi, the coups in Bolivia, the semiconductor shortages, the latest episode of Doctor Who.

—

Nothing happens at the bar. Amongst the suits and the highballers, they talk. It's difficult to find someone else who's been through the same shit as you, these days. They're all dead.

Halle knew Mello. Matt knew Mello. Halle's beautiful. Matt's got a tender spot for beauty, being a mediocre creature of god surrounded by chosen ones and manmade smiles.

Something does change when Halle offers to take him running. Him. Running.

Asthmatic kid on the playground. Five years out from a coma and a collapsed lung and a bullet dug out of his thigh.

She says she'll go easy. He imagines she just wants to see him in pain.

So be it. His doctor tells him he needs to exercise. He's entered the latter half of his twenties. Things stick out, and his skin folds where it didn't used to. Which is great. But the Ritalin work the same anymore, and he's tired all the time.

Mainly, he just wants to watch Halle run in front of him. What is he without someone like that—running ahead, egging him on, prodding him or leading him until he's blue in the face. Blood on his tongue. Her firm ass far below eye level.

She smiles, and they set the date for Sunday. 9 AM. The devil's hour!

Matt, his beat up trainers, ratty gym shorts from the charity shop, long-sleeved T-shirt, Hyde Park.

Halle, gym shorts, hair in a tight ponytail, sports bra, no tank top.

It is August. It's also London—overcast, sky considering an afternoon shower.

At 9 AM, it's cool enough to bother with a shirt if she’d chosen to.

So Halle's first one-uppance is her abs. Matt hasn't had abs since he was wasting away in a hospital bed in Tokyo, still blissfully unaware that his friend-lover-boss had died. And still, those were coma abs. But Halle has her tanned skin in England. She smiles at him. He studies a freckle on the back of his hand.

"One lap. If you stop, I'm throwing you in the pond, Jeevas."

The case of the month involves a series of bodies washed up on the banks of the Thames. A rare one close to home. Matt's on standby—they don't need tech work for this, and he has a contract that says he doesn't have to do anything in the field. If Near doesn't dare venture out of his tower, why should he? He’s bored. Bodies in the Thames—what else is new?

The momentary crack of sunlight is oppressive. Halle's pace is punishing. The doctors in Japan had done a great job, so his English doctors said, at repairing the muscle in his inner thigh. They'd also told him, he, “wouldn't be running any marathons any time soon."

Halle knows. She's a bit of a cunt, Matt's learned.

He trots along.

If there's one thing two years semi-sober have taught him, it's that pain offers no worthy gain. It just sucks—but the alternative is what? Admitting defeat.

Matt’s been waving a white flag since he was twelve. This is supposed to be his second chance. A life. Standing in the presence of someone undeniably better, but still standing.

Ten meters before the end of the lab, he doubles over and hurls into a flowerbed, turns, and smiles up at her.

"Happy, you fucking übermensch?"

"I don't speak German." As though übermensch isn’t a loan word.

"You went to grade school there." Matt knows the gist of her story—military family. Childhood all over the world, and the dead sister. From an old German family that came to the U.S. at the dawn of World War Two.

"You don't speak Japanese." She counters. She knows he spent some time there. It’s not in his need-to-know file, but most of the group knows the outline of how he ended up working with Near five years after the end of the Kira case.

"I was only there for, like, a month. おはよう."

"Also, I went to grade school in the states."

"You can’t be German and work for the C.I.A," Matt quips. She’s American.

"I had noncitizen coworkers."

"Like, spies and defectors?"

"Yeah. If you can talk, you can run, Jeevas. We're going around again."

—

It happens, inevitably, when Matt’s still weak in the knees. He’s just taken a shower at Halle’s place—a beautiful loft with a waterfront view—and he’s sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed wearing her—“my old boyfriend’s clothes.”

Her old boyfriend was clearly at least half a foot taller than Matt. His loungewear does not fit, but it’s clothes, and she offered a shower and clean towels.

When she gets out of the shower, she hasn’t changed.

He gives her the once-over.

“Man, you can just ask.”

“Good boys don’t talk back, Jeevas.”

“You didn’t say any—”

She drops the towel and smiles. “Aw, you’re still shaking from our run.”

He offers a lopsided smile, and stares at her breasts. They’re better without the fitted blouse, he decides. Her abs, still damp, are fun, too.

“So, what’s the safeword?” He asks, on the verge of reaching out to touch.

Halle looks about to slap his hand away. Instead, she smiles. Her K-9s are sharp. No surprise.

“My dog is well trained, no?” She reaches for his face, instead. Unchipped French nails gentle at his cheek.

“You decide.”

And that’s that.

—

Through their three month (and no longer) tryst, Matt learns that he likes being choked—of all the things, Mello never choked him. That the post-runner’s jitters—the endorphins—collide with the sex endorphins and leave him just plain happy. Halle makes fun of how much he smiles during scenes. When she’s choking him, when she’s on top of him, setting the pace, giving him nothing.

The best time is in Monaco. Matt tagged along on one of her assignments. Intel—it’s always intel. For a week, they look like the wet dream of a young couple on holiday. She picks out his clothes, dresses him like a fucking douchebag. Sends him to get a haircut.

They don’t go to any races. They only visit one casino, and that’s strictly business. The only place to take a jog in Monaco is the hotel’s luxury sports center. They pick side by side treadmills. She isn’t able to reach over to up his tempo. But she does give him a withering look when he slows. He doesn’t mind.

After dinners at hotel steakhouses or casino bars, they retire to their room. There is no being tied to bedframes or hot candle wax. Halle never uses anything besides her two hands. Long nails. Soft fingers, pressure points. Give and take.

They're both clever enough to know it can never last, but that's the fun part.

[gudsouplady]

Watching Sherlock (S1,E3) The Great Game (Spoilers) (Tw: This show has a lot of showing and mentioning of guns,Dead bodies,Drugs,War etc.If you don’t like that stuff then I advise you to not read this post)

• Minsk,Belarus in a jail

• Sherlock grammatically correcting him

• That wasn’t an accident

• Death penalty ????

• I Love the intro (as always)

• Why is Sherlock shooting a gun at the wall ????????????

• John arrived at the perfect time

• He’s that bored

• the head in the fridge

• Sherlock hates the blog

• The whole rant about the solar system is just so funny

• Sherlock would hate tumblr

• John just couldn’t take it and left

• Mrs Hudson !!!!!!!!!!!!!

• Sherlock watching John leave

• “What have you done to my Bl00DY wall ????? ”

• Baker Street exploded 💥

• John stayed at Sarah’s house 🏠

• John made it to Baker Street

• Sherlock and Mycroft

• Person found dead on train tracks

• Mycroft is kinda creepy

• Sherlock just played Mycroft the door 🎻

• Sherlock has been summoned

• “I’d be lost without my blogger”

• Who wrote the letter ✉️ ?????

• The pink phone has returned

• idk what the Greenwich pips are ?????

• A picture of an empty room

• They all blanked Mrs Hudson :(

• A pair of trainers in the middle of the room 👟👟

• Of course it’s a blocked number

• Is the woman ok

• A bomb vest on her body 💣 !!!!

• why does someone want her dead

• Investigating the trainers 👟

• The way John reached in the Sherlock’s coat whilst Sherlock is wearing it

• Text from Mycroft is obviously going be deleted

• The search was completed

• IT’S ANDREW SCOTT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

• Molly has a boyfriend called Jim

• Jim is causing havoc

• No wonder Molly ran away after your deduction

• The tension between John and Sherlock Istg

• John only wants to help

• John is sherlock’s best man

• John has been notified about the Westie case

• Sherlock finally figured out Carl Powers

• Back at Scotland Yard

• 4 pips and a picture of a car

• Another mysterious phone call from a different person

• They found the car drenched in blood

• Talking to his wife went unsuccessful

• The car is from Janus cars

• The car Dealer was a liar

• The red Laser on the forehead

• Janus cars help Ian disappear to Columba

• Why are there so many running police officers

• A picture of a woman and 3 pips

• An elderly blind woman :(

• “Sudden death” of Connie prince

• John has been set to go to the Prince family

• I don’t like Connie’s brother

• John doesn’t like the cat

• Mrs Hudson has some wise words

• John is on to something !!!!

• Sherlock taking terrible photos

• They figured it out

• The old woman….Nooooooooooooo

• Someone got arrested

• A picture of the Thames

• A dead body on the Thames

• Why is the mouth bruised

• A missing portrait

• Link to a serial killer

• He used to be a security guard

• What did the note say and why did he give it to that woman ????

• John is at Alex’s flat

• The gallery managers necklace is ugly

• “Have a nice day”

• John is just interviewing everyone

• I don’t like Joe

�� “Vauxhall Arches”

• Sherlock has a homeless network

• why is Alex there ??????

• Is that the professor from the voicemail

• JOHN ALMOST SAVED SHERLOCK

• Golem got away

• Another victim but it’s a child :(

• 10 seconds…

• He figured it out

• Is the gallery manager a part of the calls ???

• It’s been Moriatry all along

• The body was moved

• Joe killed westie

• Joe tried to hurt John but John was prepared

• Why did Westie not put the memory stick somewhere safe and off his person

• He shoved Westie down the stairs and killed him

• “Look at the turn ups on his jeans”

• Sherlock will get the food shopping 🛒

• Who’s going to meet Sherlock at the pool

• John has the vest on !!!!!!!

• Who wants to hurt John !!!!

• It’s Jim Moriarty !!!!!

• He’s a consulting criminal

• “Daddy’s had enough now”

• “THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE DO”

• John is trying to sacrifice himself for Sherlock

• Lasers on the forehead

• Is he really just going to walk out

• *Moriarty’s surprised face*

• “No you won’t”

• He came back

• is he going to shoot The vest ???????

I rate this episode 10/10 because it was surprising and I loved the reveal of Moriarty as he has been spoken about throughout the series and I’m excited to watch season two

[idontknowmyownmind]

There are a lot more Thames survived. They might be a small family, but many, those greedy for power, want them. It's because they are a family blessed by Gods. Each one of them have abilities that it said to be powerful, some even say that the powers are omniscience and/or omnipotence.

Each member have different ability, some might similar but never the same. In one generation, only one may have certain types of power. Only when they die, others member might be born with that certain power. There are never more than one member have same spesific power in a same generation.

Cale never know his family from his mother side. But, he know one person. It's his distant cousin who work as a maid in his house. No one but him and his mother know that they are related. Thames might be known to have red hair (an AU where someone born with red hair is most likely have Thames blood run in them), but there are cases when they don't. But all of them have same eyes color. Mixed blood Thames are likely to not awaken their power, it's very rare to happens.

Thames' abilities can be used by other people. How? There are two methods. The first method is by consuming the blood of the Thames who has the power you want. But it's only work temporarly depends on the abilities and the amount of blood consumed. The second method is by transplanting a Thames' heart into your body. But this method is very risky because Thames is not your ordinary human.

Cale power has things to do with time. That's why he is able to regressed and transmigrated and it's not a one time thing.

While his cousin's power has something to do with multiverse, where she can jump from one world into another. But only world similar to her birth world. Which mean other version of it. Usually, in one world can't exist two same soul, but with her power it's possible.

And it's possible for her to got all the information of the world she is in (how? Idk, she just do)

She can't jump to other world different than hers unless there is someone tied with her in that world. Meaning she can't jump into any earth or other world not tcf other version but she can jump into earth 1 since Heniroksoo is there.

But, since earth is added into her list because of Heniroksoo, she can jump into another earth but with many limitation such as she can only stay for few days at most

So, team 1 know that KRS (Heniroksoo) doesn't have any blood relative but one day, there is one girl who suddenly appear in their daily life and seems so close with their team leader.

What if, before the current LCF, there are many similar worlds where GoD and Nellan Barrow attempted to help?

They made many guide books from different perspective and picked different helps that started in many different points but it never work out. With the help of Cale's cousin, they attempt to safe the worlds many times

Until it's a succeed in the current LCF with the guide book, The Birth of a Hero, and the help, Kim Rok Soo

Remember that Cale's ability has to do with time? Yes, yes, Cale already regressed amd transmigrated into other bodies many time but he never remember any of it. He only has fragments of those memories he brushed off as dreams and so fast to forget.

Oh! The cousin jump world with only her soul and not her body. The body is being keep safe in one of those worlds and only Cale who know the location. He doesn't know know, but if he truly attempt to find it then he will surely find it somehow

Imagine, Cale who already done with the war and hunter bullshit can't get his slacker life because this damn cults popped out of nowhere and try to kidnapped him multiple times asking where is a body of someone is being keep as if he know it, wtf?!

After many attempts, they finally realized that Cale is not Cale and they need to find out where his original world is so they can bother Heniroksoo (they face this type of situation multiple times already)

Okay, I'm gonna stop here... idk how I should continue this... sorry 🗿

@skyeyeager I know that it's probably very different with what you have in mind, I try.. you may add your thought on it or how you want it to go 😔

[o-kye]

Today is ALLE’S BIRTHDAY!!! So happy birthday to them and have a microfic (please tell them happy birthday i beg you)

We went back to the room after the party. Avery and Kaime were already reasonably drunk, dancing to an alternative indie song I really liked. They were yelling over it at each other, but I was tuning it out. Thames decided we weren't drunk enough - even though we're both lightweights - so he broke out a bottle of bourbon and poured us glasses.

"You know, I've never drank before. Not before tonight. We never had alcohol around."

"You - hmm, I don't want to get language's tonight."

"No, you do not." I take the first sip easily. He watches me, irked.

"Is that just, like, water to you?"

"Well, it tastes better than the blood cake Avery and Kaime served us a few weeks ago."

"Oh, spirits, that." He grimaces with his sip, which makes me laugh. As stony as he tries to look, he's more of a prince than he likes to be. "You know, I'm surprised Avery hasn't already made a move on Boo. When he was high in my place he tried to take me clothes off."

"You sure he just didn't want to wear them?"

"Him? Wear brown?"

"Good point." He and Kaime are in each others faces, but there's no notation of any tension between them. Just joy. "Honestly, Thames, I think that was just for you."

"What?"

"I mean, he hits on Kaime a lot, but that's mostly joking. Not with you."

"Again...what?"

"Thames, it's fairly obvious." The corners of my lips tug up. His brows furrow, looking back out at Avery.

"Yeah, I guess so, isn't it. Spirits - how can you drink this?"

"Tired of pretending, are you? Just bring out the champagne."

"I'm not - shut up."

"Be nice to your elders."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess you are older than me, aren't you? When's your birthday?"

"June twenty-fifth. I'm seventeen."

He frowns at me. "That's not fair."

"I'm plenty more mature than you."

"Uh, biologically, you're wrong."

"How so?"

"...Don't worry about it."

"Alright."

"You really think Avery's into me?"

"Didn't he willingly make out with you?"

"Well, yes, but...he said he wasn't into me."

"Hm. I think he likes you. Maybe not into you."

"Those are the exact same thing."

"No, they're not." I realize that my glass is empty and grab the bottle to fill it up again. "He likes you a lot. You're...something to him. He's not into you."

"Well, you're something to me, Alle."

My mind immediately goes to Cadet. That's something I would say to them, isn't it? But I'm right here, right now, so I bump my shoulder against his. "Thames."

"Yeah?"

"Thames."

"Are you okay, Alle?"

The entire room looks wrong, but the only light is coming through the window from automated street lights and I've had four drinks already, so I expected it. And, truthfully, I feel peaceful right now. "Yeah. I am."

"Good."

"You know, Avery would be a horny drunk. I think he has a bit more respect for Kaime."

"Avery? Have respect?"

"I know he and Kaime flirt a lot, but I don't think he ever means it around Kaime."

"...Yeah. They really love each other, though."

"They do. Do we love each other?" He slings his legs over my lap and lays back, taking up the whole couch.

"I think that's a question you have to ask yourself."

"Why should I? Do you love me?"

I stare right through him. Why is he asking me? "Of course I do."

"Good. I think I would kill myself if you didn't."

Yeah, that sounds familiar.

"Hey, fuck me!" Avery shouts, seemingly in response to what Kaime's said.

"Horny drunk!" Thames shouts back at him.

"Oh, fuckoff! No, fuck me, babygirl!" He stumbles over and puts his face right to Thames, noses touching. I'm sure he can smell the twelve margaritas on his breath.

(The real number was three. Yes, I was counting.)

Thames goes red, pushing Avery's chest back. "Go back to dancing with your boyfriend."

"What? Me, his boyfriend?" Kaime stumbles over - not in an intoxicated way. A drunk - on - happiness sort of way. "I think he has the bar a little higher."

"Yeah, the bar's set at women. Sorry, Boo." He kisses him on the cheek.

I think this may be my happiest moment. Right here, now, the three of them around me. Warm liquid peace runs through my veins at a high rate, singing the same song as the speakers. You got everybody calling, but I know that you're calling after me.

Yes, here. I can only hope this isn't the peak before I fall back into things with Cadet.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to the Lone Flame's Chapter 213

New title - 27. The Lone Flame in the Ice

TL;DR - Old man faints after seeing the half-blood dragon. Dragons say that mana and aura were "restricted" in this world. Raon can use mana but suffers from nosebleed, so Cale forbids using it. Some background history of the place.

Power Restrictions The old man fainted after seeing the half-blood dragon atop the castle, so Cale invited their group inside. But he had some discussions with the dragons about the use of mana here. What they learned was:

Mana was being 'restrained' in this world

Aura was also 'restrained', but not as bad as mana. CH could still use 20% of his aura.

The restriction was regardless of race, because Rosalyn could not use mana too

Mana is part of the laws of a world. So if a dragon could oppress the world, controlling its laws was also possible

Raon could use his mana, but with some exertion. But when he suffered from a nosebleed, Cale was alarmed and forbade Raon from using it without permission. And then we had this funny scene afterwards. 😂

Cale: You can use magic if Eruhaben-nim or Sheritt-nim give permission. But don't use it now. Raon: I understand! I won't do it! And I won't have a nosebleed again! I am not as feeble as you, human! Cale: *feels a bit offended, but nods* Yes, you're not as feeble as me. Raon: That's right! I am strong! I will be the strongest of all 7 year old dragons! Cale: *sees Raon's undeniably plump feet* Yes. That's right. You are right.

Of course, Cale felt troubled with the power restrictions in this world. But what puzzled me was that dragons could still use telepathy despite there being a restriction on magic? Is telepathy not magic then?

And what about his ancient powers? Can Cale use it? There was not a mention of it in today's chapter, so I guess we'll find out later.

You Know Nothing, Cale Snow We get an info dump about the place where they were in:

The old man was a village chief

They arrived at a high place near a village below

The land they were in was the northern part of the Har Kingdom

Behind the village was the Erghe Mountains, a rugged mountain range

Har used to be an empire, but became a kingdom after the last emperor died 200 years ago

The Har Empire was the last empire referred by the dead dragon Maxi in the crown lore she gave to Cale

The archduke's family fell into ruin after the archduke protected the last emperor of the Har Empire

Beyond the Erghe Mountains was the Holy Empire, the only empire in this world located in the center

The Holy Empire worships the living god, the dragon

Annually, the Holy Empire sends a punitive expedition to the Erghe Mountains

Their aim is to erase the dirty bloods living there, the beastkin who live in hiding in the Erghe Mountains

The archduke used to protect this land together with the beastkin warriors

The strongest beastkin warriors were the wolf beastkin

The archduke family were known for their blood red hair

The archduke family was called the Snow household

The archduke got the nickname "The Lone Flame Burning in the Ice" because the red-haired archduke was always surrounded by the Blue Wolf beastkin warriors (ice has a bluish tinge)

Oh yeah, I'm going to use the word "archduke" instead of "grand duke" from now on because of the majority vote on Discord.

Moving on, I thought Cale was in the world of a rofan, but he was actually in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones... 😂There's even a Snow surname here. 🤣🤣🤣 And there's a line in today's chapter where the old man thinks that the red-haired man really knew nothing (about this place). Oh, the meme! 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Lots of interesting stuff today because of the background lore. But now we have the fan theory that the Thames household used to be called the Snow household before migrating to Cale's world. The blue wolf tribe living in Cale's world also supports this theory if you consider that the blue wolf tribe worked together with the Snow household before. There's also the thing about the blue wolf tribe being abandoned by god, which in Aipotu translates to the living god (the dragon) abandoning (hunting/erasing) them. See?

[dross-the-fish]

What do the rest of the crew think of Alice, or she of them?

They like each other. Alice is pretty chill around unusual characters and isn't going to be put off by people like Adam or Erik.

Most of the crew members think she's nice but a little odd. Alice is very into her mushrooms and will talk for hours about the different strains if allowed to do so, which ones are toxic, the effects of the poison, which ones can be used for eating or medicine, and though she is highly intelligent she can come off as a bit peculiar and sometimes struggles to express herself in a way that is easily understood by people who don't know her.

She does sometimes get overwhelmed and if she gets upset she'll shut down and stop speaking or won't be able to articulate why something is upsetting her. Her husband used to use this to his advantage to paint her as unfit and he'd intentionally try to overwhelm her so she'd fall mute or have a meltdown. The crew in general will be much kinder to her. Members like Watson and Theo will gravitate towards her passionate side. Once she's comfortable Alice is that person who loves things with her whole heart and the things she truly enjoys become her favorite things in the world. She's that person who can make you share her excitement because she's so sincerely joyful about the things she loves that it's contagious.

Of all people Jekyll/Hyde seems to understand her the best, especially as Hyde he tends to just accept that certain logic applies to certain situations and quickly picked up that "This is who Alice is, Alice is a little different from the norm," and was able to befriend her easily. When introduced to Wonderland he also was able to simply accept that this was an odd world where the rules are different and once he'd figured out how the backwards logic of it worked he enjoyed his visit.

He considers her his scientific peer and greatly respects her work. He views her as one of the best minds in her field and when a strange red mold appears in the Thames, making it look like a river of blood Alice is the first person Edward points the crew towards for answers.

[miruruchuday]

ALBERU DISTRESS ANXIETY RANT POST

This was supposed to be included in "My Takes on the Plot Board" post but this got so long it is in its own post. For background I am an overthinker when it comes to Alberu and Im currently having an anxiety crisis. You're about to see how true is that with this post.

(Spoilers part 2 ch100+ be warned)

---

Im very worried about Alberu. He's being mentioned several times on current chapter summaries but he's not on screen everytime, its so damn weird is it just only me?

Then now on the latest chapter (ch116) we get no updates. just. right. after. Cale recalls he hasnt contacted him yet.

Between the time gap something may already have been happening on the other side while Cale and co. is taking their time on Central Plains. It might be paranoia attacking me, still. Still. You might want to see this:

chapter 338 WS's debut.

Sounds familiar? Is it just me or is the last part is getting more real? Okay, my paranoia might be attacking again.

But look at the plot board I made, have you noticed something?

There's almost nothing in between compared to others! It must be a big deal. Alberu is in DIRECT HIT with the Hunters! Imagine the Hunter's position. They also caused a fierce onslaught on Roan Kingdom for his mom's death to be a simple accident!

Do you also see how there's a lot of involvement centering Zed? I can think of 4 possibilities for him to get that much attention from the Hunters.

Zed's relation with the Thames

Ancient White Star ancestry which is possibly the White Blood

His former-wife

Unknown possibility

While one seems okay, it definitely looks like most of them will impact Alberu more than we hope for.

There is just no way Alberu would leave unscathe from all of this. There are much more-than-should-be arrows and red flags pointing at Alberu FOR ME TO BE CALM. AaaaAAAAA-

If... if he turns out fine, I will be perfectly okay. I just need to put all my anxiety in one place and to be done with it. Heck I wish all this turns out not to be validated

I just...dont have the confidence that absolutely nothing will happen to him.

Oh another thing. Cale hasnt fainted on their side yet.