#someday i need to sort my lore tags out
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
oobbbear · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
She’s the brightest pearl
794 notes · View notes
evilminji · 7 months ago
Note
Hey Minji! A thought for your Star Wars things!
Who ever said the SI-OC was the only one to get dumped in SW? Just. A Creche that has several Reincarnations/Transmigrants.
Oh? My god? Just... the FIRST thing that popped into my head? Was the image of one of those "we are so Unbelievably Overworked We No Longer Fear You Nor Death" Sort of office workers/team of workers(nonspecific)?
Just... fuckin EVERYBODY knows Star Wars. Not everybody focused on the same PART of it, but the DO know it. So OBVIOUSLY? The Force decided it should bring in an A Team.
It Did Not ASK the A Team.
They are... like? 4. And sitting in a soft foam, brightly colored Creche, in their lil Jedi rompers, all sitting in a circle, looking at each other like... ( -_-) (-_- ) you too, huh?
Yeeeeeep. (God does Jerry want a cigarette. Jerry gave them up in his 20s. But he's KINDA GOING THROUGH IT, okay?!) (Sarah is hyperventilating in the corner. Her KIDS! Oh GOD. Her KIDS! She was on the way to pick them up from SOCCOR PRACTICE!!!)
Just? This whole ass team of "yeah, we know the LORE, but buddy, pal, we had LIVES! What the FUCK. Star Wars was a HOBBY!" Type adults? No one is happy and everyone wants to choke the metaphysical concept of The Force with their itty, bitty lil baby hands.
They may RIOT.
And like? Do to sheer NUMBERS? They make up ALMOST a full Creche?
Almost.
There is like... one? Maybe two? Actual Jedi Babiesℱ in their group? It's A Team... plus our collective children. Whom we parent. The MOST baby of babies. Also the spokesperson when they want to fool anyone into thinking they're "normal".
I want Jerry to have a fake cigarette. He's looked up death sticks and like FUCK is he putting that shit in his body, but dear LORD are the oral fixation and mental effects of a past addiction still both real, and a pain in the ASS.
If you try and TAKE his fake ass, hand made, bespoke not-a-cigarette from his itty bitty lil baby hands? He will take your KNEES. These FUCKERS won't even let him have COFFEE. Let him HAVE THIS. *hisses from the walls*
I want them to be ☆~Nightmare Children~☆
They have the power of The Force, various past life skills, an uninterrupted access to the galaxy's BIGGEST LIBRARY, close proximity to FAR too many senator AND their living spaces, and? An actual negative number of fucks to give. They can take shifts. Tag team. Be creepy, horrible, terrible, God awful nightmare creatures climbing out from your WALLS.
Somehow they keep escaping.
Down through the lower temple as they examine the hidden tunnels and escape routes. Through the vents. Forcing other jedi to become VERY familiar with where those pathways are. Sure hope THAT won't someday save your lives! Ya ungrateful, "you're grounded, stop sneaking out younglings" BASTARDS! So rude!!
The camp out in the Corrie Gaurd office. Bring the babies.
Here, you seem stressed, random gaurd. Hold a Jedi Baby. They radiate sunshine and good vibes. Are literally the Anti-Old-Man-Sith. We brought caffeine and food from the temple. Are willing to follow you around like "adorable ducklings" on patrol under the excuse that we're "training" for when we get our own soilders.
Sure is INCONVENIENT for all these asshole senators to has a witness, huh?
You gaurd my back, I'll gaurd yours. And if a certain long neck trips near the stairs? You didn't see SHIT. I'm BABY. How could I POSSIBLY have the control to do that? Now excuse me... we need to practice our "we Jedi Children can stare into your SOOOOOULS, we See All Your Sins." Wide Eyed Unblinking Predator Stare.
(O.O) (O.O) (O.O)
263 notes · View notes
iamthecomet · 2 months ago
Note
Mountain getting high on poison he use to kill needs a fanfic too but im not here for this...
Plus i always imagined mountain being the best at hunting on earth (because mist is the best in water) with something like he being so silent and knowing woods as his habit
Im here for nightmare hunter Aether!
Please i promise to not get scared but i need you to elaborate Aether hunter...
I wrote Mountain poisoning his victim here! (Also featuring rough sex with Sunshine, fair warning).
ANYWAY since the people want to know about Aether, here are some of my thoughts (I will write the whole fic someday, just like I WILL write the one about Swiss corrupting a priest and eating him...I mean uhhhh)
Also tagging @askingforthesun since Mal DM'd me asking for this too ♡.
So, Murder Ghoul Aether.
-I think Aether's true form is barely solid. Sort of wispy. Can fade into the shadows. Can slip his, semi-solid fingers deep into bodies and pull out still beating hearts.
-Aether's favorite way to feed is less of a real hunt and more like....a spider. He waits for food to walk into his web.
-His web being his general, care-taking demeanor. He's the nice one. The trustworthy one. Siblings aren't afraid of him. They should be.
-He has a spot--a lair--in the basement where he keeps his catches. He doesn't kill right away, see. He draws it out. He feeds off of their emotions first. Whichever one's he's craving, until they're empty. Until he has had his fill on their memories and their fear. Only then, does he feast.
-he uses quintessence to keep them compliant. And maybe it's a mercy that they aren't aware of where they really are. But he is also digging through their memories. Finding triggers. Pulling strings. Toying with their brains, feasting on their lives. Forcing them to relive their worst moments. To think their worst fears have really come to life.
-He tends to draw it out for weeks. He sucks them dry of every thing he can find. He loves to make them last. To savor them.
-the flesh and blood are more of a necessity than a want. The real pleasure comes from the manipulation. The fear. The thoughts. Those are the delicacy.
-he sometimes shares his meals with the ghouls who like the blood more. A handful of them won't take him up on it--the meat tastes too much like quintessence and not everyone likes it.
-he's very delicate with how he does it. Graceful even. He has perfected the art of this. He's training Aeon to do the same.
-bonus Aeon lore: Aeons favorite hunting method (so far) is to make his prey think they're being chased by the thing they're most afraid of. He loves the taste of fear and quintessence mixed together.
24 notes · View notes
vodika-vibes · 2 years ago
Text
Little Red
Summary: You're a detective for Mandalore Police, and your Chief decides to assign you the case file for the long-lost son of Jango Fett, Hound.
Pairing: Devil!Hound x Detective!Reader
Word Count: 5769
Warnings: None
A/N: When I say "Devil" I'm talking about the Pathfinder/DND version of Devil. Not the Christian Version. Also, someday I'll be able to write a story without Lore but it's not today.
Tagging: @the-bad-batch-baroness who suggested Hound and Grizzer
Divider by saradika
Tumblr media
You jump when a file is dropped heavily on your desk, sending pages from all of your other active investigations fluttering to the floor. You scramble to gather and sort the fallen pages, and then glare up at your boss. 
“Was that necessary?” You ask.
“Sorry, Little Red.” He jokes, and you roll your eyes at the childish nickname. When you came for your initial interview you had been wearing a red winter jacket and a matching winter hat, and the nickname stuck. “I have a case for you,” He says with a blinding grin.
“You mean on top of the five other cases I’m actively investigating?” You ask dryly, as you sort the files back into their proper places.
“Yeah, but this-” He taps the thick file with one finger, “This is a rite of passage, Little Red. It’s been sitting on my desk for years, and I want you to take a crack at it.”
You quirk a single brow and tilt your head to read the name on the file, and then your other eyebrow shoots up to join the first, “The missing person file on Hound Fett?” You ask.
“Aye.” Your boss drops into the worn seat next to your desk, an amused smile crossing his face as you pick up the file and start flipping through the pages, “Bare bones, Little Red. Before you were born, Hound Fett was kidnapped. For whatever reason, the kidnappers ignored all of his brothers and took him from the middle of the room.”
“Weird,” You reply as you turn your attention away from the file, “Does it have something to do with why King Jango has 2 million identical sons?”
Your boss points at you, “We don’t talk about that, Little Red. Ever.”
You roll your eyes, “Then maybe we should be asking questions about it.”
“No. I did the initial investigation, and that,” He says with a pointed look, “Has nothing to do with anything.”
You huff out a breath, “Alright, alright.” You go back to flipping through the file, “I mean, this looks pretty solid, boss. I can’t imagine I’ll find something that you all missed. Especially as it’s been almost 25 years since Hound vanished.”
“I want you to take a look at it anyway, Little Red.” He leans back and the chair creaks ominously, “You’re smart, much smarter than I am, and you see connections that others might not. Look at it with fresh eyes and see if you can turn up anything new.”
“And the other cases?” You ask.
“I’ll pass them on to some of the others, they won’t mind.” He stands and gathers the file case files off of your desk, “Go ahead and gather the evidence from the locker downstairs, and then you’re free to take off and work from this at home.”
You lean back in your uncomfortable chair, “You really want this to be the only thing I focus on?” You ask, surprised.
Your boss looks troubled, “Missing babies are a bad look, Little Red. I want
I need to know if I missed anything.”
You close the file sharply, and push your chair back, “Okay,” You say as you stand, “I’ll take care of it.” You’re rewarded for your words with a relieved smile.
You pull on your jacket and grab your purse, and you head to the stairs. The building you work in has four floors. The top two floors, the ones above ground, are where the detectives, like yourself, work. The bottom floors are where the labs and the evidence locker are located.
You wave your hand through a magical barrier, and then wait for the misty shroud to verify your identity, and then you continue down to the sublevels. 
The person who watches the evidence locker is a homunculus, and if you’re being honest, you like him more than any of the other detectives that you work with.
“Good afternoon, detective.” He says in his eerily echoing voice, “How may I help you today?”
“Good afternoon, Hyde.” You greet politely, earning you a wide grin from Hyde, “I’ve just been assigned the Hound Case, how many boxes of evidence are there?”
Hyde’s expressive eyes fog over as magic slides over them, and you settle your hip against the counter, waiting. His eyes clear a moment later, “Just the one, detective. Will you be signing it out?”
“If I can, yes.” You reply, as you tap your file against your hand.
“May I see the case file, please?”
You slide the file across the counter, and place your hand on the hand sized obsidian slate next to it, and then you wait. There’s a golden glow, and a simple golden thread twines around your hand and connects you to the case file, and then a third string, from the case file, to a box that you can’t see in the back.
“And done,” Hyde says as the glow fades, “The case file and appropriate evidence are bound to you, detective. Shall I have the evidence sent to your desk?”
“Can you have it sent to my home, actually?” You ask as you pull your hand off of the obsidian plate. 
Hyde’s eyes glow once more, and the case file vanishes off the counter, “It is done, detective. The evidence will remain in your custody for a time span of 2 weeks. After which it will be returned to the locker and you will have to sign it out again.”
“Alright, I understand. Thanks Hyde.”
“You are welcome, Detective. I wish you well in your investigation.”
You favor him with one more smile, and then your turn and leave the small room dedicated to Evidence storage. You only make it halfway up the stairs, heading towards the first floor so you can walk home, when you hear pounding steps behind you.
“D-Detective!” You stop on the landing and turn to stare at the older man who’s huffing and puffing his way up the steps, “Detective!” He finally reaches you and he hunches over, his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath, “I saw that you were assigned the Hound case,” He gasps out.
You raise a brow, “I wasn’t aware that that’s become common knowledge.”
“Oh, it hasn’t. I mean, not yet. But I pay attention to who checks out the evidence.”
You turn to face him fully, your arms folding across your chest, “Do you now?”
“Yes, I do. I-...” He blinks at you, “Oh, it’s not like that, Detective. I’ve been investigating the case in my off time, what little I have, and I just have some theories.”
“Theories you’ve kept to yourself?” You ask.
“Well, no. I’ve tried to share them with the other detectives who caught the Hound case, but none of them were willing to listen to me.” He pauses, “Please, Detective. I’ve been obsessing over this case for 25 years.”
“Okay, Doc. I’m all ears.”
He almost wilts in relief, “Perhaps we can go to the cafe? I’ve yet to eat lunch today.”
“Fine, but you’re paying.”
“Deal!”
Less than half an hour later, you’re comfortably sitting in a booth in a cafe, nursing a cup of caf, while the Doc slides sheets of paper across the table to you. “So, you might know that I was one of the investigators when Hound first went missing.”
“I did see your name in the file,” You agree with a nod, “Because of your magic, right?”
“Yes! Exactly so!” Doc wraps his hands around his tea, “I was young, and was still learning my trade, but even then I noticed something strange.” He flips through several photos, and then slides one across the table. “Here, what do you see?”
You take the picture and lift it to look at it properly, “It looks like a normal nursery.” You finally say, “I don’t see anything unusual, aside, maybe, from how clean it is.”
Doc grins and slides a different picture across to you, “Now what do you see?”
You pick up the second picture and compare it to the first, “They’re the same but
it looks like a burn? Next to the cradle. But the original picture it’s not
” You trail off, your gaze darting between the two pictures, “The carpet was changed between the two pictures.”
“Exactly! They’re nearly identical, but the difference is there.”
“How did you get these pictures?” You ask, “This one,” You held up the picture from the crime scene, “You obviously took, but the other one?”
“I have friends,” Doc explains away with a shrug, “But, Detective, I have a theory.” He leans in, “I think Hound went missing before he was reported. By at least a day.”
“And someone, whoever ran this facility, covered up his disappearance.” You finish slowly.
“Exactly.”
You’re quiet for a long time, and then you lean in, “Doc. I need to know how King Jango has so many kids.” You say, your voice quiet.
He hesitates, and then leans in as well, “It’s a bad story, Little Red.” He whispers.
“Tell me anyway.” It’s not a request.
“Okay.” Doc glances around, and then carefully sets up a ward designed to make your conversation hard to hear, “Okay, you remember what happened to King Jaster?”
“Of course. Betrayed by a friend and murdered by an enemy. They teach that in school.” You reply.
“Right. What they don’t teach is that the friend,” Doc makes a face at the word, “Kidnapped the then Prince Jango and sold him.”
“To who?”
“Kamino.”
You blink at him, Mandalore and Kamino have friendly relations, so far as you’re aware, “If the Kaminoans were holding King Jango as a slave, then why-?”
“The Kamino you know now is not the Kamino of 30 years ago.” Doc says quietly, “30 years ago, a scientist used King Jango as the template of a massive army. 4 years later, he started the mass production of the Clones, and was shut down by a joint operation between Mandalore and Kamino. A year after that, Hound went missing.”
“From Kamino.” You clarify.
“Yes. King Jango was in no position to raise a single child, let alone 2 million, so to keep Mandalore from wiping them from the map, they promised to raise the children until they were five years old.” Doc explains.
You lean back against the booth, your mind is racing. “So you think the Kaminoans are hiding something.”
“I think they were, but after Hound was reported missing, the entirety of Kamino was redone, and it’s not little more than a vassal of Mandalore.” Doc says with a sigh, “Unfortunately that’s a dead end.”
You frown, and look back at the picture with a burn mark, “Okay, so what can cause something like that?”
Doc frowns, “This is going to sound crazy.” He finally says.
“Just
lay it on me.” You sigh.
“I think Hound was kidnapped by a demon or a dragonkin of some kind.”
You blink at him, twice, “Okay. Okay. I don’t have enough evidence to support that one way or another.”
He frowns, “You don’t believe me.”
“I also don’t disbelieve you.” You counter, “Look, I need to go home, look at the evidence. Thank you for this, it’ll help.”
“If you need any help, Detective
”
“I know who to ask.” You finish your caf, and set some credits on the table, “Thank you, Doc.”
And then you leave. You walk the short distance back to your home, check the mail, and then step into your home and make sure the door is locked. And then you move into your back room.
Your back room is sparsely decorated. With several cork boards, a large solid table, and a cozy chair being the only furniture in the room. On the table is the case file and the evidence box.
You peel off your jacket and toss it on the couch, and then you start working.
***********
One day melts into two, which melts into three
and before you know it, it’s been over a week.
Your cork boards are full of notes and pictures, and the evidence is spread across the table neatly.
25 years worth of investigations is a lot, but you finally have a handle on it all. 
The original investigation had been solid. Every I was dotted and every T was crossed. Aside from the burn that Doc added to the evidence, you didn’t see anything that you could learn from the original investigation. 
That, you know, is where the other detectives slipped up. They assumed the Chief made a mistake in the original investigation, and focused their attention there. 
Understandable, perhaps, but ultimately a waste of time.
No. While the original investigation is important, you’re much more focused on the tips gathered by the tip hotline. 
Most of them are useless, and would have been useless even if they were investigated immediately. But there’s one tip that keeps drawing your attention.
25 years ago, just after Hound vanished, an old woman, a hedge wizard, had reported seeing a mysterious figure with a baby in the forest near her home. She even found a baby blanket later that night. But no one ever investigated her claim.
You pull the tip off of the cork board and you frown at it.
25 years is a long time, and according to the note the woman making the report had been in her 80s when she called in. She would be at least 105 years old now
the odds of her still being alive are slim.
But-
And that's the big thing, isn’t it? This is the only new lead in 25 years, you have an obligation to investigate this. 
So you copy the tip into your notebook and slide it into your purse. And then you pull on your winter boots, and winter jacket. And the last thing you grab is your baton, just in case, and you leave your house.
You check the address one last time, and turn to start walking. It’ll take you over an hour to get there on foot, but carriages don’t run in the snow. You stop at the cafe down the street and order a caf to help keep you warm while you walk.
The things you do for your paycheck.
An hour and a half later you stop in front of the house listed on the tip. 25 years has not been kind to the home. The house, which had once been lovingly tended to, had fallen into disrepair. The roof has collapsed in some places, and the door is broken on the hinges.
Still, you’re already here

You carefully walk up the half rotten steps, and rap your knuckles on the door frame, “Hello?” You call, “I’m with Mandalore Investigations, is there anyone living here?”
The only answer is the sound of the wind. 
“If there is anyone living here, please say something. I’m coming in,” You take a step back and kick the door, causing it to finish falling to the ground. And then you light the small orb that acts as a lantern when an actual lantern is too unwieldy.
You step into the old house, carefully checking each step before you commit to it.
As you thought, the house is empty. Though it simply looks like the owner, likely the old woman from the tip line, ended up moving out and didn’t take any of her stuff with her.
Unfortunate, but not unexpected. You turn to leave the house before you end up getting hurt, when something catches your eye. There, sitting on what used to be a tea table, is a small blue blanket shrouded in magic.
The tip did mention that the old woman was a hedge wizard.
And even the least powerful of hedge wizards have the ability to create stasis fields. You inch over to the table and examine the table, rather than the blanket.
You realize that the table itself is covered in runes to keep the items on top of it in stasis. Clever. You lightly pluck the blanket off the table, and turn to leave the house before it collapses under you.
Once back outside, and a safe distance away from the house, you look at the blanket. It does look like a baby blanket, and it even looks like the blankets that King Jango’s children had been wrapped in when they were infants, but there’s no names, no identifying marks-
You sigh and slide the blanket into an evidence bag, and then stash both in your purse. All of that for, what, a blanket that may or may not belong to Hound? Maybe it really is too late
25 years is a long time.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize what you’re hearing right away. You frown and turn towards the forest, and then you flash the smallest of smiles when you see a massiff playing in the snow.
He’s barking and runs right over to you, and you crouch, “Hey there little guy, what are you doing so far from civilization?” You ask as you hold your hand out for him to sniff, he lets out an enthusiastic noise and flops on his side, and then rolls onto his back, and you see a collar, “Let’s see
Grizzer. Where’s your master, hm?” You ask as you rub his belly.
Grizzer barks and scrambles back to his feet, and bounds back towards the forest, and then stops, looking back at you.
You stand and watch it for a moment, your eyebrows creeping up as the massiff runs between you and the forest a couple of times. “Alright, alright.” You sigh, as you step towards the forest, carefully following him through the trees.
He never gets far enough away that you can’t see him. And whenever you stop, he runs around you and encourages you to continue moving forward.
You walk for, well, you don’t know how long. Long enough that you had to pull out your little lantern to see where you’re going. Long enough for the sun to set.
And then Grizzer runs off, “Hey!” You make an offended noise, but slowly, carefully, follow his paw prints.
Eventually you hear a voice, low, male, and the sound of Grizzer barking. His master, you assume. You lift the light orb a little higher and continue walking. Noting, with some bemusement, that the paw prints you’ve been following had grown larger and larger.
And then you step into a well lit clearing. There’s Grizzer, standing nearly two feet taller than you, with three heads. You make a mental note that Grizzer is apparently a cerberus rather than a massiff, but since he hasn’t been hostile to you at all, you decide that it’s barely important.
There’s a house, a cabin really, sitting in the center of the clearing, with a flourishing garden full of fresh fruits and vegetables, in spite of the snow falling from the sky. You can only assume some sort of magic is keeping the plants alive.
And then the door to the cabin opens and a man steps out. He’s tall and broad, with curly hair that stops at his shoulders, and is pulled up in a half-ponytail. 
You frown at him, mentally comparing him to a recent image of Prince Cody. The same nose, jaw, and cheek bones. Identical eye shape, and slope of the forehead. Same skin tone, same eye color. Your eyes narrow at him, his irises are gold, but they’re a burning gold, and he has two horns starting from his temple and laying back over his ears
“Hello,” He says, looking slightly bewildered, politely bewildered even, “I’ve never had a visitor before.”
You move closer to him, “Well, Grizzer was quite insistent.” You say lightly as you scan him with your eyes. He’s
taller than any of his brothers, save, maybe, Alpha-17. And as you get closer you notice delicate golden chains wrapped around his arms, neck, and vanishing under his clothes. Your best guess, they’re also wrapped around his legs. You also can’t help but notice that the skin under the chains is red and inflamed. 
“I apologize for that,” His voice is surprisingly gentle for such a massive man, “Grizzer has a mind of his own, I fear.”
You tilt your head slightly, “It’s alright. Though I am rather far from home now.”
He frowns, “You’ll simply have to spend the night.” He decides, “It’s not safe to travel at night, especially when it’s so cold.” He pauses, and eyes you warily, “I’m sorry, you’ve been staring at me since I came outside. I know I don’t look exactly huma-”
“You’re Hound, aren’t you?” You interrupt.
He stops mid-sentence and his jaw drops, “How can you possibly know that?” He asks, “I mean, yes. That is my name, but how?”
You fold your arms, and introduce yourself, and then offer a small smile, “I work for Mandalore Investigations.” You say gently, “We’ve been looking for you for 25 years. We never stopped.”
He gapes at you, “I
you
you can’t be more than 22.”
“True, I only received the case file a week and a half ago. But every detective has been given the case file at least once, and some of them have taken it multiple times.” Your voice is very gentle, because he looks like he’s about to shatter.
“I thought
I was sure that no one was looking for me.” Hound says quietly, “I
uh
please, come inside.” 
The cabin is cozy, and far too small. He’s essentially living in a studio, and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s been living alone. He pulls out a chair for you and you pull off your jacket and hat before you sit down, hanging both on the back of the chair.
“You’ve been alone for a while, haven’t you Hound?” You ask as he brings you a light dinner.
He sits across from you, “Yeah, it’s been years since I’ve had someone to talk to who isn’t Grizzer.” He motions to the massiff, who is back at the size of a normal dog and is rolling around on his bed.
“Can I ask
what happened? I mean
” You gesture to the horns, “How’d you end up like this?”
He reaches up and lightly touches one of his horns, and then his lips twitch into a wry smile, “Devils don’t like it when you outsmart them.” He says tiredly, “I was 15, and, well, things needed to change. And one thing led to another and the next thing I know I’m tricking a devil, and this is my punishment.”
“What did you get out of it?”
“My crops don’t die, regardless of the weather. And I always have enough to stay alive.” Hound explains. “But there’s also the punishment.” He taps one of the chains, “I’m quite literally chained to this clearing.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someone had plans for me, once, or maybe they just wanted a child. In either event, it doesn’t matter now.” Hound leans back in his seat, “but
you must think I’m a mannerless oaf.” He says as he gets to his feet, “You’re probably frozen solid. Here-” He moves around the room, and he presses an overly large shirt and a pair of sleep pants into your hands, “The shower is just through there, feel free to use whatever you need to-”
“Hound-”
“I’ll find the cot, and you can sleep on my bed,” He continues, as he gently, very gently, pushes you into the bathroom, and shuts the door behind you.
You sigh quietly, but decide to take him up on his offer. A warm shower does sound nice, after all.
You shower quickly, not wanting to use all of his hot water, and you feel so guilty using his body wash, and shampoo and conditioner (though you wonder if he sends Grizzer to the market to buy this stuff for him), and you stubbornly comb your hair with your fingers rather than use his hair brush after you pull on the shirt and sleep pants that he graciously offered you.
You open the bathroom door, and Hound smiles at you guiltily, “Um, so, my cot is ruined beyond repair, so I’ll just sleep on the floor-”
“Okay, stop.” He stops talking as soon as you interrupt him, a blush crossing his face, “I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well I can’t let you sleep on the floor! It’s not right.” He replies.
“Then we share.” You counter as you fold your arms over your chest.
“I
uh
” Hound’s face flames red, “...if that’s what you want?”
“...have you ever actually met a woman before, Hound?” You ask.
“Yes!” He says defensive, and then he anxiously rubs the back of his neck, “Just not one that looks like you.”
“Well. It’ll be fine. And in the morning, I’ll see if I can get those chains off, because I am not leaving you here.” You say stubbornly.
He stares at you like he’s never met someone like you before, which he probably hasn’t, and something soft crosses his face. “Alright. Um
you can sleep closest to the wall, please.”
You climb into the bed and slide so that you’re nearest the wall, and Hound, carefully, climbs into the bed with you. He’s warm, and even the chains are warm against your skin.
He carefully lays on his side, facing away from you and mumbles a good night. So you, in turn, turn away from him and say the same thing.
********
You wake up the next morning feeling very, very warm. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you glance down, and you very carefully stifle your amusement.
At some point during the night, Hound managed to shift so that his face is pressed against your neck, and his arms are wrapped securely around you and his legs are tangled with your own.
Of course, you managed to tangle your fingers in his hair, so you figure you can’t really say anything about it. You wonder if you should wake him up, because he’s going to be really embarrassed no matter what, but when he mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles closer to you, you decide to keep your mouth shut.
You must have dozed off a little, because the next thing you remember is Hound carefully, very carefully pulling himself away from you. You squint at him, half asleep, and you notice his face is bright red.
“Sorry,” He whispers, “I didn’t mean to
uh
use you as a pillow.”
You yawn and sit up, “S’okay. You’re warm.” You rub the sleep out of your eyes, and then look up at him properly, “Did you sleep well at least?”
“...better than I have in years,” Hound admits with a shrug, his gaze flicks to your face, and then down your neck, and then he looks away quickly, “Um
so
when did you want to leave?”
“Mm. Later. I want to see these chains first.” You reply as you slide out of the bed.
“How many of the chains do you want to see, mesh’la?” Hound asks, the nickname falling from his lips absently, and quietly.
You raise a single brow, “All of them. Or, well, as many as you’re comfortable with.” You clarify.
“Right, right.” Hound hesitates and then peels his shirt off, and you frown when you see the chains crisscrossing painfully across his chest. And then he hesitates a moment longer, and then, with his face red, he strips off the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in the middle of the room.
Tension ripples through his frame, “Alright, Hound. I’m not going to touch you unless I have to, alright?” Your face is a little red as well, he is very attractive after all.
You carefully trace the chains with your eyes, they cross his entire body, but
there, in the middle of his back, is one clasp. You hum thoughtfully, and walk over to your purse, removing a small device. It’s something you’ve used on investigations before, to determine if there’s any hostile magic that might harm you. You hold it over the clasp and it takes on a yellow hue.
“Okay. So there’s a clasp in the middle of your back,” You say to Hound, “It’s not hostile, but it’s not
not hostile either.”
“Wait, hold on. If there’s any chance that this might hurt you I don’t want you to touch it.” Hound spins so he’s facing you, “I can live with this, I’m not worth getting hurt over.”
You set the device back into your purse, and then step closer to him, “Hound.” Your voice is very gentle and you keep your gaze locked on his face, his hands twitch and then he settles them on your shoulders, a look of longing on his face. You very gently place your hands on his sides, and he trembles slightly.
He’s so touch starved that it breaks your heart.
“I think you’ve been trapped here long enough,” You whisper to him as you slowly slide your hands around his back and step closer to him, “don’t you?”
You can feel trembling under your light touches, and you’re not surprised when his hands move to your hips and he pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair.
You slide your hands up his back and find the clasp, and then, with deft fingers, you unfasten the chains. Your fingers burn, as though someone just shoved your hand into a fire, but slowly the chains melt away.
There’s the sound of metal falling to the ground, but you’re not paying any attention to the chains anymore. Instead you curl your arms tightly around Hound and you press your face against his collar, “There,” You whisper, “you’re free.”
He pulls away and stares at you, and then looks down at his body. Angry burns cover him where the chains once laid, but there’s not a speck of gold anywhere on his body.
“I
I can’t
” He trails off, at a loss for words, and then he looks at you, “Are you hurt?”
“Hm? Oh
” You offer him your hands, which are covered in angry looking blisters, “They’ll heal eventually.” You say lightly, “And it was worth it.”
Hound stares at your hands for almost a whole minute, and then he reaches out and lightly cups your face with his hands, and he stares at your face for a long moment. And then his lips are on yours, warm and soft, and yet somehow demanding.
And then he pulls away and lightly rests his forehead against yours, his gaze locked with yours, “That was
inappropriate, I suppose. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” You reply, your face red, “Uhm
you should get dressed, and so should I actually, and then we can leave.”
“Uh. Yeah. Right. Yes.” Hound replies, suddenly remembering that he’s totally naked and completely pressed against you, “Sorry, mesh’la! I
uh
” He hurriedly pulls his sleep clothes back on, looking very, very sheepish. “I’ll just
go shower.” And then he bolts to the shower, and you press a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.
*************
One week later, you’re standing next to Hound as some of his brothers, Stone, Thire, Thorn, and Prince Cody move a bedroom set into your guest room. Hound feels more comfortable living with you than he does living with any of his brothers, and you’re grateful for the company, honestly.
More importantly, Hound seems to be incapable of not touching you when you’re within arms length of him. Which works out well for both of you. He’s touch starved, and you are a physically affectionate person, works out best for the both of you.
You aren’t sure how you feel about the actual army of men visiting you at all hours of the day though. You side eye Prince Cody critically as he single handedly shoves a new mattress into Hound’s room. You’ll adjust, you suppose.
You might not adjust to the standing offer to have dinner with the King, though. That’ll take time to get used to. Turns out finding one of his long lost children earns you special privileges.
There’s a knock on your front door, and you hop off the couch (which has been moved into a better location because of Prince Fox and Prince Wolffe who visited yesterday-) and you open the door.
“Hey there, Little Red!” The Chief beams down at you like a favored uncle, “How’s the case going?”
“Oooh. Right. There’s been an update.” You reply.
“Oh? Do tell.”
You hold up a single finger and then turn and vanish into the house, and return a moment later tugging Hound by the wrist, “Chief meet Hound. Hound, this is the man who investigated your disappearance 25 years ago.”
The Chief’s jaw drops, “Holy-...you found him, Little Red?”
Hound glances at you, “Little Red?” He asks, with a slow grin crossing his lips.
“Please don’t.”
Hound’s grin grows, and he offers the chief his hand, “I’m Hound. Thanks for looking for me for so long.”
“You’re quite welcome, young man. I’m sorry it took us so long to find you.” The Chief replies, “I knew Little Red would find you though, she’s one of my best detectives.”
“She is pretty amazing,” Hound agrees.
“Did you want to come in chief?” You ask, “They’re getting Hound’s room set up now.”
“No, no. I have work to do. Oh, but Hyde is mad at you, Little Red. Apparently you left the case file in the evidence box, and now it’s stuck there until you go and claim it.”
“Oh. Shit.” You muttered, “That’s my bad.”
“Deal with it on Monday. I’m also giving you back the five open cases from two weeks ago. I don’t know why I employ those idiots.” The Chief sighs, and then he glances at Hound, “Do you want a job?”
“I
don’t know anything about police work?”
“There are classes.”
“Oh, well sure then, I guess.” Hound replies, bemused, “Hey vod’e, I have a job!” He calls into the house as he heads back to setting up his room.
The Chief lightly touches your shoulder, “A hell of a thing you did, kid. Good job.”
You grin and duck your head, “Thank you, sir.”
You shut the door as he turns away and your grin grows. You’re a damned good detective, and everyone you work with will know that soon enough. And now you actually have friends and a social life. Well, and Hound, who is so much more than just a friend. Things are definitely starting to look up.
57 notes · View notes
drfuckerm-d · 2 months ago
Text
âšĄïžblog intro/directoryâšĄïž
hiiii 💋💋💋 i need Absolute and Total control over all organizational aspects of my life, and a directory would do the trick for me just fine
firstly, since this post is gonna replace my last pinned post i'm gonna reiterate the very same message, lest ye forget. đŸ’žđŸ©·all comments, reblogs/tags, likes, hits/kudos, picassos, asks, kind words and thoughts are deeply felt and appreciated.đŸ©·đŸ’• i screenshot all of them and put them in the ever-growing 'Hall of i love you' on my strawpage.
⛓⚙BLOG DIRECTORY⚙⛓
Paintings/large-scale illustration:
Lover's eye - Nat's DTIYS entry - Astarion - WHAT IS INSIDE OF YOU - aziraphale & crowley set - data of the opera (dataentryspecialist's Electric Excavations) - papa emeritus II
Sketchbook pages:
diagnostics both ways - bob bleed picasso - kissin him up - SPOT! (Trade) - lore&the crystalline entity! (Trade) - FAVES! (Trade) - goobers - SOPPING - lore crashes out - raul tejada - the subroutine (for YellowcakeđŸ©·) - sound advice - slagdoll
Fanfiction:
grief. - the great CAPER! - menage - wtaf (loreventure) - leaving my girlfriend for that WAGON!
Trades:
SPOT! (Spike's end) - lore&the crystalline entity! (Nat's end!) - FAVES! (Momo's end)
Misc:
designated driver - aint no parkin on the dance floor - comp 1&2 - data&lore playlists - clayta - tng bingo cards - data edit (thomas dolby) - lore edit (audioslave) - mama a gay throuple behind you - i'll be funny again soon i swear - wip show n' tell - i ONLY FUCK in florescent lighting - macrobid is the same colors as data and thats why i take it so diligently instead of dying - asshole son - oil pastel practice - terzo fuckabout
Welds/Metalwork:
my fucking bat'leth - first joint root (mig) - mashing my interests together - 1/2" fillet (mig)
and some new information, (keep an eye out, cuz this may be subject to change!) i AM open to all sorts of interaction, including but possibly not limited to:
asks, messages, art trades, collabs (art/fic)
as long as you keep in mind that i am -- though it may not be entirely obvious -- SKITTISH AND RECLUSIVE.
and as an addendum, though there are very few words in the language to describe just how much i do appreciate the sentiment, i am not open for commissions. this is not to say that could not Change someday, but as it stands, i am not offering them. đŸ«¶đŸ«¶
14 notes · View notes
certifiedrat · 3 months ago
Text
bit about the actor AU:
i initially got the idea last summer when i was making a 70s inspired phantom blood movie poster (i’ll finish it someday). it got me thinking about how neat it would be if jojos was actually an action movie series, and my ideas just sort of blossomed from there. i have a lot of ideas and lore im sitting on and i cant wait to start yapping about it more!
at the moment, my idea for the au is that phantom blood was a cult classic, mid seventies action/gothic fantasy movie that got a couple of sequels but never really made it super mainstream—until stardust crusaders became a massive success and catapulted the series into MCU-level fame. in the very long term, i’ve played with the idea of making one of those deep-dive magazines that come out 20 years later and recount all the BTS stuff and do cast interviews- like those harry potter or star wars magazines you see every few years. it’ll definitely be a while before i have anything of that sort ready though, but i’d love to know if that’s something people would be interested in seeing.
i need a tag for this AU because i get the feeling im gonna start posting about it a lot. shoutout to everyone who’s enjoyed it so far, im really glad to see yall like it too :))
6 notes · View notes
jacaela · 2 years ago
Text
just saw someone called ___ a racist, who "ustified the genocide of taurens by the alliance".
"Genocide":
Ah yes, our assault on the Horde town of Taurajo. I struggled with the implications of the decision. Taurajo was admittedly what you might call a 'soft target,' primarily a hunters' camp. Still, it had been used to recruit, equip, and train Horde infantry for many years. When our scouts reported that Taurajo's most dangerous units were out on the hunt, we had to act quickly. Gossip We sacked the town? I would prefer not to use the term 'sacked,' but yes, the attack went off flawlessly. We removed Taurajo from the equation, confiscated its arms, and destroyed its smithing facilities. The assault gave our forces considerable breathing room and knocked the enemy off balance. Nonetheless, during the assault, I instructed my men to leave a gap open in our lines
 Gossip Why did you do that? Taurajo had a significant civilian population. I wanted to ensure that they could escape the fighting, and many did, finding refuge in the north. There are some, even in Alliance High Command, who argued that I let an opportunity slip away. That I should've taken hostages. But I don't see the value in those sort of terror-tactics. Hear me out,: I want this war to end someday. It won't ever stop if we butcher or imprison civilians. I just pray that there are those on the other side who see things as I do.
“They took down a military target. And their general refused to slaughter civilians. He could have given the order to massacre everyone. But he didn’t.” - Baine, leader of Taurens.
While the horde gleefully terrorizes civilians in Ashenvale, Alliance are sent to kill their own fraction for daring to take a few spoils of war. The only general in this war that shows mercy is forever tagged a butcher, and had his body dragged through the dirt.
Poor horde started the terrible war, but hey, how dare the alliance to answer:
Manual: Under Garrosh's command, the Horde belligerence toward the Alliance is growing. Most recently the headstrong new warchief led his forces on a rampage through neighboring Ashenvale, claiming much of what was once night elf land. King Varian Wrynn has not backed down from Garrosh's aggression, nor has the rest of the Alliance. Offensives into the Southern Barrens have secured territory once belonging to the Horde for Varian and his allies, who are also working to retake portions of Ashenvale. With tensions rising, both factions are on the brink of all-out warfare. Quest: You're in Hellscream's army now, <name>, and in Hellscream's army we kick butt and take names. Gone are the days of our people starving in the streets of Orgrimmar as we sign treaties with elves. We take what we need now. Kalimdor belongs to the Horde! The Alliance attempts to stop our expansion every chance they get. Unsatisfied with owning most of the Eastern Kingdoms, those pig-lickers want it all!
The Hordies showed how they treat their enemies, the ones who showed mercy and compassion. The Horde has completely devalued the understanding of the word “honor”.
Perhaps it's time for someone to stop inventing an alternative lore and face the truth, the horde, with a rare exception, is a solid bunch of killers.
4 notes · View notes
freezerbnuuy · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Act 4:12 - Success Stories (Page 1)
LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / WARNINGS | CHAPTERS
← PREVIOUS | BEGINNING | NEXT →
SPOILER WARNING: Lots of early plot spoilers in the letter, so scroll away if you don't want the early plot spoiled and block 'divided sims 4 story spoilers' tag.
[Katlego's letter, to eventually be sent to her parents.] 
Mme, Ntate- 
Iam safe. I know that you have been worried sick about me, and I am so sorry that I left you worried instead of writing to you sooner. The thing is, everything has been both terrible and amazing at the same time over the years. 
You gave me my name for a reason- you wanted me to be successful. And you both told me that, if I am happy, then I am successful - but I still didn't want to let you both down. You did so much for me that I wanted to only write to you when I could finally told you I have found success- and I have.
Nia is still here and doing well, looking after me as always.
It will be a long time before I see either of you again. I am currently in dreary Henford, but the rural lands are not so bad. In short - An elite physician stole my boat and my wares to use in his alchemical potions, and then tried to have me kicked out by forcing a local apothecary to spike my herbs with an emetic for assuming I would be viable competition- and succeeded after the townspeople turned on me.
A man named Gideon helped to clear my name (a witchfinder, may I add, who I formerly tricked into drinking urine- it's a long story!) and a man named Oskar helped me to get Samuel Annorin outed for who he truly was.
He wronged us both, though Oskar's revenge was violent and mine was not. Sadly, Oskar is no longer with us- the short story is that he was a vampire, and a cruel revenge enacted upon him by the physician Samuel Annorin led to him becoming human. He died protecting the witches during a witch-hunt some years back. 
The physician's son, Owen, rebuilt my cabin when it was destroyed. I do not fully trust him, but I must admit that he does his part to help all sorts of healers in the area. I am a cunningwoman, living under the noses of those who abhor witchcraft by providing semi-arcane services they cannot live without. They despise the occult, yet they rely on it, isn't it funny? 
Mme, remember when you always used to tease me about finding love? Well, I did- an amazing woman named Ellie, who I have been in love with for a fair few years. One day, I hope I can introduce you to her.
We live well, and we avoid the brunt of the witch-hunts. Do not worry. For now, I am safe- though I am also writing this letter because, some day, I may have to break my promise.
I know you said you cannot wash blood off of your hands, but someday, I may need to use our gift to do harm. I have only used my gift once, to meddle with the mind of a witchfinder. I try to use it sparingly.
The people around me, they are hellbent on bloodshed. I do not want to become like them, but I have a partner now. There are still a few witches here even after many fled. I must protect them. I can only heckle my way out of so much. I remember the stories you used to tell me, about the Spider we take our surname from. So far, I have overcome all with nothing but cunning and wit. As times and situations change, I may have to be less like the Spider and more like the Tiger in our blood. 
I hope you are both doing okay. Again, I am sorry for letting you worry for so long- but do not worry, we are doing well. 
Ke Go Tlhologeletswe, 
- Katlego 
(There is a rudimentary drawing in the corner of the page, of a spider with a mischievous smile on its body.)  
Tumblr media
Katlego
Part of me longed for home. For now, the best I could do was hope that a letter would reach my parents, Nanji and Emene. I longed to see what my parents would make next, whether weaving baskets or making clay animals or whatever other creative projects they come up with. I longed to see the animals again. I missed the sunshine. At the same time, I've learned to love the life I've made here, especially since finding my Ellie.
The years since the mass fleeing of the witches have not been particularly eventful. Even now, I still feel lucky to be alive- lucky to live under the thin banner of acceptable arcane knowledge. These people loved the world of the occult, but only when it served them, and only when it didn't serve them too much.
Most come to me for herbal remedies, those who cannot afford the service of Owen Annorin or who are fearful of the world of 'true medicine'. However, his wife, Lydia, has shared her impressive herbal knowledge with me, and vice-versa. Shang Simla's many years of such knowledge will be vital down the line, and it's amazing to see her keeping tradition alive when her profession requires constant shifts to modern techniques. Dare I say it, I prefer her to her husband.
Tumblr media
Everyone else wanted readings. Divination card readings were most of what I sold. Some sought general guidance for the road ahead, others enquired about whether or not love was requited.
It was always a little awkward when the meaning of the cards led to rather blunt messages from the universe. How politely can you say to someone that the world is telling you to get it together?
Tumblr media
All those years ago, to know Oskar had died in battle after I had shunned him...what he did saved many witches' lives, whether I want to admit it to myself or not. I may not have agreed with his methods, but his heart was ultimately in the right place.
The conflict hasn't just been happening on the outside. For so many years, I've been at a war with myself over my powers, and how far I should go with them. I see the likes of Oskar and of the witches using their powers with reckless abandon to protect themselves- but when does violence stop being defensive and begin being destructive?
Some time ago, I was visited by a peculiar, pale, middle-aged woman in an expensive dress and wide-brimmed hat. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Her name was Violeta. Turned out, she was Oskar's 'mother', but not in the traditional sense. It was her who told me of his passing, and the many circumstances surrounding it. At first, she seemed almost threatening, saying she knew of our quarrel over his actions towards Samuel Annorin; I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel slightly celebrative after hearing of Samuel's passing from illness. 
Her demeanour switched all of a sudden, and she said that, though 'overdue', she wanted to give me something for the way I helped take down the man that killed her son, saying I'd done all of Henford a favour.
Tumblr media
She was an artist, and she offered me a portrait - of any subject of my choosing.
1 note · View note
seeliragh-fr · 2 years ago
Text
i love the idea of the deities being evoked for various qualities or tasks in their respective wheelhouses.. i’ve played with it a little bit in lore before, but now i’m thinking about the existence of roadside shrines or small honorary offering spaces in lairside guest quarters or public spaces.
you could always do little renditions of the World Pillar, for instance, where travelers may leave charms or offerings specific to their desired deity- colorful strings of beads of correct color tied around the appropriate place on the little stone carving, or a bowl of chipped travelers’ runestones at the foot. flights may have region-specific incense cakes that may be prudent traveling tokens if you happen to need your patron’s attention far from home.
or, riffing off this post which i love, there might be deity-specific effigies in places where their governance is at play; a squat stone Tidelord might sit under a shingled roof of clamshells at a crossroads miles away from any ocean. tall, thin shrines housing the windsinger might be encountered on winding paths away from civilization, with weathered coins strung up beneath the eaves so that they clink musically together in the breeze. bronze flamecallers might be interred at the mouths of kilns or in front of smiths’ workshops, the head and wingtips buffed bright with many years of rubbing for good luck. in place of a hearth deity, the earthshaker might reside in a little alcove in kitchens or living quarters to hearken to home and safety. the possibilities are endless! the color-coding of the flights means you can do so much with banners and ribbons and pigment and talismans to add little details and texture the world.
128 notes · View notes
ashmcgivern · 2 years ago
Text
Aiben: The Great Hunt (Context)
HELLO and welcome to the segment where I summarize the D&D campaign I play in on Saturdays to the best of my ability. Actually, after this post, I plan on posting my PC Zeal's journal instead, since it's already written out and it'll be less work for me.
It's worth noting that the DM aims to create a sourcebook for the setting! Our campaign is heavily modified to suit our PCs needs and so the final sourcebook will be pretty different, but I've got his blessing to share a certain amount of info. Some information will be left vague our out entirely to keep the ~mystery~ of the campaign's "answers"
The wall of text is below the cut - this first one is gonna be mostly PC descriptions so we can get that context out of the way. Enjoy!
Also, if you'd like to see all content relating to this campaign/world, including art, be sure to look at my Aiben tag.
The adventure starts in the continent of Aiben in the capitol of Averias, where a hunt for an ancient and powerful metal known as Morphirium is being sponsored by the current king, Swesdon Wolfram. The Morphirium, once on display as an "art piece" 499 years ago, is the largest singular piece of the element currently known to humanoid kind, and is absolutely filled to the brim with arcane power and magical potential. The event is huge, requiring prior registration and paperwork, for a total of 100 teams participating in this hunt. The winners of this event take home 1 million gold pieces.
The last team to slip into registration, Team 100, consists of Eddisar of the Long Sight, his two grandchildren Makera Flintbreaker and Zeal Eddison, their friend Peanut, and two employees of some of Edd's old friends - Ursa Ironsand and Traverse. Later in the adventure, Atache, Slythe, and one other secret (for now) PC joins the party.
Player Characters
Eddisar of the Long Sight - Tiefling, M, ?? (Lore Bard)
A kind old man, an archeologist and historian. Long winded, gets lost in himself and his thoughts fairly often. Has seen most of the world and has an infinite number of stories to tell. He dresses plainly with no armor or weapons. His most peculiar feature is his right arm, which is clearly replaced by a branch he can control like a normal hand.
Edd is the de facto leader of the group, having signed everyone up for the contest, but takes a very relaxed approach to directing the group. He's keen on being more a resource to the party than being a hard and fast leader.
Makera Flintbreaker - Tiefling, F, 22 (Champion Fighter)
A tough young woman who's hard to impress. She is blunt and doesn't like to get caught up in details, opting for simpler solutions to complex problems. She is a boxer in a local league, and is hoping to go nationally pro someday like her mother, Bulana, was. She has an insane sweet tooth, an addiction to puzzles, and is inseparable from her cousin, Zeal.
Zeal Eddison - Tiefling, M, 23 (Celestial Warlock)
A bright-eyed enthusiastic young man with a headlong, heart-first sort of personality. He's a school teacher, but wants to go to university to study Planar Physics. In the absence of money to go to school, he consumes just about every book he can get his hands on. He endured an intense tragedy as a child where he met Xanthanel, a Solar that looks after him like a son. He's inseparable from his cousin, Makera.
Peanut - Tabaxi, M, 50s (Open Sea Paladin)
A HUGE, gruff, well built Tabaxi sailor. He is a gentle soul trapped in a war tank of a body. Spent a lot of his life in the Collesian Islands working as a boatswain, where some of the best sailors in the world exist. He's a tank and a force to be reckoned with, but also gives the best big kitty hugs. He has a taste for cheese, and collects/consumes wheels at an alarming rate. He is looking for his uncle, Sherbert, who went missing recently and left behind a puzzle box Peanut believes will lead them to him.
Ursa Ironsand - Desert Stormfolk, F, 16 (Sanity Cleric)
A short, kind and mellow elemental. Always stressed, but wears it well, keeps a level head and exudes "mom energy." She comes from a long family line of smiths, but isn't a very skilled one herself. She used to work at the "Forbidden Pit" in the middle of the desert, where nothing really happened, until one day she started having crazy dreams. Her boss suggested going on this this trip as a 'working vacation.' She is, well and truly, a disaster lesbian.
*Stormfolk are a custom race and Sanity Clerics are a custom class, making Ursa 100% homebrew material. Stormfolk commonly only live to be about 35, maxing out at about 45, making Ursa well and firmly an adult.
Traverse - Half Elf, M, 30s (Battle Master Fighter)
A slightly unkempt half elf, with chains around his wrist dressed in ratted armor. Once a guard for Agaras, became disenchanted with the world and realized he really only liked being a guard for the thrill of the fight. He's since gotten himself in a myriad of trouble and was sentenced to prison, but on his mentor's good word he's been given one last chance to redeem himself - help Eddisar on this quest, and he can go free on good behavior.
Atache - Warforged, NB/M, ??? (Eloquence Bard)
A flamboyant as FUCK warforged, a bit thin and gangly, absolutely not built for battle. Always ready to meet with the upper crust even though they've been long removed from their previous station. Enjoys fashion, but cant afford the newest things, so he makes do and calls it ~vintage~. They enjoy the finer things in life, and is a phenomenal cook. The party met up with them when they first visit the Wintering Isles.
Slythe - Yuan-Ti, M, 20s?? (Armorer Artificer)
Sassy as hell and not one for niceties, Slythe is a no-nonsense fashion designer. He aims to create articles of clothing that are both highly fashionable and highly functional for adventurers. He takes incredible pride in his work and is always looking for new sources of inspiration, and new people to model his designs. An NPC named Elana stole a dress he was working on with her, and in a fit of rage joined our party to get it back, take revenge, and also field test some fashionable armor he made for the party.
Mystery Character - COMING SOON
7 notes · View notes
cometmystic · 2 years ago
Note
hey!! i dont think youve posted abt this yet so
 tell me abt your fav characters!!! :D
im about to ramble and expose some weakpoints on the internet so heres a cut !!! im gonna talk about the three that are in the forefront of my mind at the moment !! maybe this will change if you ask me in a months time,,, maybe not !!! mwah thank you for sending me asks sweetie
Tumblr media
lots of history with this girl; soo i found out about her during my first mugen phase ? so like 11-13ish,, there was a genre of character that was modeled to play like smash bros characters, and in looking those up, i found one of this weird woman... hong meiling was her name ? she was related to this weird frog girl whose hat was evil and maybe the mcdonalds song girl ? whatever the case i needed to download her. and i couldnt because the download was down. this sent me uo the wall for several years and implanted her name into my brain,, up until i got into touhou proper thanks to you actually !!
so now im learning about the lore and the characters, and turns out theres more to this meiling than being elusive and pretty !!! so this gloomy, scary place behind one of the touhou worlds most significant battles is guarded by this friendly, easygoing redhead ? and shes fiercely loyal and protective of the mansion as well as gensoukyou, despite being employed by people who almost ate the world right up ? thats so wonderful !! shes so cool !!! and she takes care of flowers, and canonically doesnt like dodging bullets and tries catching them instead, and no one has any idea of what she is...!!!! theres so much to her !!! but most of all, the absolute tragedy of some of her mansionmates getting boatloads of development and lore, while shes,, basically in the same place she started in ? even flan did ! but meiling still gets depicted as just lazying about, despite that trait of hers being in favour of working in the scarlet devil mansion, which people fear and dont visit ? or rather used to... so she should have evolved along with it,, so that sadness also makes me even more attached to her in a way !!
i know shes not the most mistreated character in touhou or anything, far from it since shes a th6 girl and those get Everything and everyone sick of them but... idk !! id love to see more of her shine someday ouo
Tumblr media
heres some sprite art i made of her
Tumblr media
this character is a whisper in the wind. this character is a shadow in the wall of a cave. this character is the tree that falls with no one to hear. this character isnt real. this character is one of my favourites
like shes drenched, positively oozing with lore and content, and its all so utterly relevant and unique that i cant possibly talk about any of it because i cant be bothered to spoiler tag this,, but like,, reading between the lines of the fiction and uncovering lil things about her and what shes like was the most fun ive had during my dngnrnpa phase, to the point that,, here she is still !! at the tippy top !! and because of things youre intimately familiar with russell, you probably know shes probably gonna stay !! im very sentimental like that
and it wasnt even just lore either, her design kind of instantly drew me to her back when i was part of the original animes speculation circle and,, wow suddenly my sonas attire seems a little um,, familiar doesnt it : ...i promise i had other inspiations for ir too Ăłuo;
Tumblr media
heres some pixel art i made of her
Tumblr media
finally this girl !! much like is the theme here, some lore to my meeting this one !!! this one predates even meiling, since i think i was 9 or 10,, see there was a broadcast channel here called animax, and its responsible for a lot of my taste even nowadays,, from the name you can guess it broadcast all sorts of dubbed anime all day long, most of which i absolutely should not have been watching at that age, like hellsing and gantz oops... well there was this other one which until like 4 years ago i only had the faintest recollection of,, i think there were demons in it or something,, mostly i remember being infatuated by the blonde girl
well 2018 comes around and the memory of this lady shoots straight into my brain in the middle of a call with you russell, which you might remember ! i describe to you what it looks like and tell you that i think a guy kills her and she has him help kill bad guys or else hell kill him right back ? and you, through intense googling, eventually are able to tell me it was called lunar legend tsukihime. woag ! lore unlocked
i wiki crawl for a while out of curiosity and find out that she has a fighting game that kinda rules, and that everyone hates the anime and you should read the visual novel instead and,, hey were making a visual novel at some point huh russell ? maybe i should study up on this tsukihime thing,, apparently its pretty influential,, and
obviously arcueid is ridiculously charming and fun, and every second with her is a mildly exciting, mildly creepy (fun way) delight, and its hard not to absolutely love her for that alone !! but also like,, much like the love for meiling started like a new phase in my life, arcueid did the same thing, in a very wonderful way ? a phase where were both really into this thing and talking about it so often and making so many new ideas about it together,, were playing higurashi currently and it feels like an extension of this, of her, and like,, its so special
i love what meeting arcueid again after 10 years did for me
Tumblr media
heres some pixel art i made of her
and if you stuck with me for this long, heres a lil gift !! a lil happy ending for 13 year old me i suppose !!!
Tumblr media
i found her after all ouo
2 notes · View notes
cecevolume · 6 years ago
Text
Fate - Chapter One
Oofta.  I have to say, the first chapter is always the hardest.  Prologues are easy; you just set up the story.  First chapters of the actual timeline?  Ugh.
Little note: When I wrote the original, some characters hadn’t appeared in the show yet.  I’m adding them in where I see fit, so Enzo will not be a vampire.
As always, I hope you guys enjoy! 
CeceVolume 
CHAPTER ONE
               “I got friends in low places!” she sang, raising her mug with the rowdy bunch of demons she’d chosen for her drinking partners that night.  They all were singing along to the song, spilling potent demon brew all over the floor while the other beings in the place laughed and danced in the chaos.
               Yesterday, if someone had told Caroline Forbes that this was how she would be spending her night, she wouldn’t have necessarily been surprised; demons were especially fun to hang with on a night out. But if you said that she was doing it to give herself a cover should her friends decide to seek her out instead of her ignoring them on her phone?  That would have been a stretch.
               They were her best friends, after all.  But just a touch on the annoying side.
               “Too bad about your werewolf, gorgeous,” Enzo muttered, throwing his arm around her shoulder.  Over the last fifty years, they’d partied a lot; he was one of the few rage demons she could stand to hang with for more than a day.  “But that just means you can finally acknowledge your feelings for me,” he added with a smirk and swig of demon brew.
               Enzo St. John was a well-known demon around Mystic Falls, one who had no problem bedding any female he turned his attention to. His thick, dark hair always looked like he’d gotten up and run his hand through it, called it good.  If you caught those deep brown eyes sparkling at you, it meant one of two things: drop your panties or get the hell outta Dodge. As with most demons, he was lean, compacted muscle, the kind that made him hell in a fight.
               And she’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about investigating the rumors of his
endowments.
               Alas, she had found Tyler soon after meeting Enzo and he’d been a much safer choice.  Now that “her werewolf” was gone, she just wasn’t willing to go through knowing that he would leave her someday, just like Tyler.
               Rolling her eyes, she plucked his arm from around her. “You know,” she answered, “that’s never going to happen.  I’m not trying to get attempted tonight.”  As he opened his mouth to say something sly, she continued, “Or ever.”
               Once again, Enzo’s arm found his way around her shoulders, this time putting his mouth to her ear to murmur, “That’s a very long time for an immortal, love, and I’m sure you wouldn’t like to eat your words.”
               She stifled a little shiver but couldn’t help giving herself an inward shake.  Enzo was a demon looking for his mate, just like Tyler.  The accent and his do-what-you-feel attitude were tempting, but what would happen when he left her too?  At least with Tyler, she hadn’t had to worry about being cheated on as well as the end that was always looming in the distance.
               Giving him a small smile, she said, “How about this? If I don’t find myself a male by the time I’m five-hundred and you don’t find your female by then, we’ll try it out, see where it goes.”
               Throwing back his head to laugh with a sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes, he replied, “I’ll write you in, darling.”  He turned his attention back to Matt, who stood behind the bar with one eyebrow raised.  “Matt, old boy!  You’re our witness; Caroline’s mine on her five hundredth birthday!  A round for the bar in celebration!”
               All the Loreans in the bar shouted in glee, holding up their glasses in toast.
Normally, even a Born vampire wouldn’t be welcomed so whole-heartedly into the bar.  Naturally, a creature that drank blood for sustenance was an unwanted patron in any establishment, much less one that actually knew they were bloodsuckers.  Just the appearance of one could either clear out a place or turn it into a full-on brawl.
Caroline Forbes was special, though.  Not only was Matt one of her best friends and now roommate, she was proud to say she was hard not to like.  Even people who didn’t like her could at least acknowledge that she was great to party with.  Life of the party, she thought to herself with a smile as she gave her beer another sip.
A chill she was all too familiar with went up her spine, making her eyes narrow as she turned in her seat.  It was the sense that someone was
exasperated with her.
Swinging her attention to the door of the bar, she saw exactly who she had expected to see: Bonnie and Elena.
They stood apart from the rest of the crowd, mostly because of their reputations.  They could drink and carry on with the rest of Caroline’s rag-tag team of friends, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get a wide berth the rest of the time.
Bonnie was the last Bennett witch, which made her quite possibly the strongest of her kind to ever live; the Bennetts were thought to be the first line of witches to step out of the ether.  It didn’t help that the mocha-skinned woman had no problem throwing her weight around, dropping immortals left and right with just a look if they displeased her.  Caroline thought it was a little over the top, but might makes right was the Lore’s motto.  And this witch might just be the mightiest.
Of course, she could also chug a bottle of tequila and ask for seconds, something she had learned before she’d even met Party Girl Caroline.
While Bonnie took care of everything mystically, Elena was the warrior princess.  As a Valkyrie, she had been trained since her birth forty years ago to battle with any weapon, at any time.  Being the Doppelganger was just more reason to train her harder.  She had no qualms about taking on the big and bad; nine point nine times out of ten, she’d end up winning too.
But she also could flip her long chestnut hair and shake her as like a champ.
Both of them weren’t shallow, one dimensional people.  They had depth.  Whoops, she thought with a larger gulp of beer.  Guess the universe just forgets to shade in some when they spend so much time painting other masterpieces.
Caroline was more a blunt tool, untrained kind of woman. If it could do damage, she would inflict some real hurt with it.  Though she’d learned to wield dual blades, she preferred to adapt to a situation; it made people more likely to underestimate her.
Yeah, walking around with a bow and short sword attached to you or magic glowing from your palms was cool, but to knock someone out with a lamppost was much more theatric.  Plus it didn’t require as much talent.
Raising her hand in a wave, she called, “You guys come to drink or fight tonight?”  She laughed when the whole bar—except the ever-suffering Matt, who merely shook his head with a grin—seemed to suck in a breath, waiting for the answer.
Normally, this would at least get a reaction of some sort out of the pair striding through the parting patrons.  A little spark of magic or a twirl of an arrow.  Just a little something to remind everyone that they were creatures with which one did not fuck.
Now, though, Caroline could see the purpose in their steps, their eyes.  What the hell was going on?  “Are you guys okay?” she asked when they finally got to her.
Bonnie gave a quick glance around the bar—glaring at Enzo’s back as he sidled up some nymph—before murmuring, “We have to get out of here, find some place we can talk.  There are too many people here that might be listening in.”  Her eyes strayed once more, as if she could pick out someone eavesdropping.
With a small snort, Caroline laughed, “Of course they’re listening; everyone here is just as much gossipmongers as a gaggle of old women.” A small mutter rippled through the crowd, making the vampire roll her eyes.  “Oh, yeah, because that doesn’t make it seem like any of you were eavesdropping at all!”
Elena snatched her arm, pulling her quickly out of the stool. “Care, I love you, but now isn’t the time.  Things are happening and Bonnie and I need you right now.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Enzo chimed in, “Did you read my dream journal?  Dear Diary, today I dreamed a lonely witch, Valkyrie, and vampire found comfort in each other’s hot, wet—ah!”
Bonnie clenched her hand as the demon dropped to the ground, clutching his head.  “Shut up,” she hissed before turning back to Caroline.  “We have issues to talk about and the longer we sit here, the more problems we accumulate—son of a bitch!”
Everyone sensed it a mere moment after the witch.  As a group, their attention went straight back to the front door and the two new occupants.  If she didn’t see Bonnie building magic in her palms or Elena slowly unsheathing her short sword, Caroline would have laughed at the audacity then joined in the soon-to-be melee.
Two Turned vampires walk into a bar, she thought mockingly as she downed the last of her beer.  “Is this one of the problems we’ve ‘accumulated’?” she asked quietly, noting Bonnie’s discreet nod in her direction.  “Are we in fight or flight mode tonight?”
Surprisingly, it was Elena who answered, “Flight,” before inching closer to the bar.  “Matt,” she muttered, “we could either use a berserker to clear the path or a distraction to get to the back door.”
The young, blonde vampire had never heard of a Valkyrie choosing retreat before the battle even started and had to eye the newcomers. What was so special about them?
Turned humans were notoriously arrogant; the sudden influx of previously unknown strength was like a drug to most.  Usually, though, they were put down before they got too old because they were driven mad by the level of emotions and bloodlust.  Their new instincts often warred with their delicate mortal minds.  And a crazy immortal ended up a dead immortal.
Tilting her head, she regarded them more closely.  The pair didn’t show any signs of madness, but definitely some intensity.  The taller of the two ran his hand through his tawny hair, his light hazel eyes surveying the gathered group with something akin to pity.  He stood just behind the other, his powerful body held tight beneath his brown leather jacket, forest green T, and jeans, as if waiting for the inevitable fight.
So he was the smart one, then.  Didn’t hurt matters that he was cute to boot.
The other, though, garnered Caroline’s interest in a different way.  There was something about how he held himself—loose but alert—that told her he was used to fighting and winning.  Thick black hair fell in a small wave to accentuate the hard lines of his features. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the room with his lightning blue gaze, stopping to lock on
Elena.
Because of course it was Elena he was looking for; wasn’t everyone?
“Sorry, folks, we’re just passing through.  Seems something of mine has wandered in,” he called to the room, raising his hands as if in surrender.  “I don’t want to fight any more than the rest of you.”
Rising shakily from the floor, his rage state beginning to form, Enzo snarled past thick, strong fangs, “Fucking Damon,” before turning to his comrades.  “That’s the fuck that stabbed me with a tree limb.”
Growls erupted from the room; demons might fight amongst themselves, but it was more in a sibling rivalry way.  They didn’t take kindly to someone else doing it.
It was about to get very messy in the bar.
Glancing over her shoulder, Caroline saw that Matt had similar thoughts.  His eyes were already flooding pure black as the specter of the bear inside him shimmered over him like a thin veil, his muscles beginning to grow.  As he shattered the mug he’d been holding into tiny shards, he growled, “Go out the back.  Only one vampire is allowed in this bar.”
As the trio tensed to jump the bar, the blue eyed Turned finally took his eyes off Elena long enough to say charmingly, “You might not want to push this, fellas; what’s a little stabbing amongst friends?”  When that didn’t stop anyone from readying themselves, his smile deepened into something dangerous.  Once again, he caught Elena’s eyes and winked.
“What the hell,” Caroline asked as she turned towards her friend, “is that all about?”
With a blush rising in her cheeks—again, what the fuck was going on—Elena muttered, “He thinks I’m his Bride, which means we gotta get out of here.”
Well, desperate times
.
Leaning towards Enzo—who just needed the smallest nudge to completely lose control—Caroline whispered, “You’re really going to take that from a Turned?  He ran you through!”
Enzo’s battle roar seemed to be all the spark this particular tinder box needed because all around her, chaos broke out.  Matt vaulted the counter, his body nearly twice its usual size as Enzo charged the pair.  All around other demons followed suit, the nymphs fading into floorboards. In the corner a pair of female werewolves snarled as the change began to take hold, their fangs shooting longer and claws curling into the wood of their table.  A group of Sirens started to lose their glamour, transforming quickly into their true monstrous selves.
This was pretty much a done deal.
“Do we still have to run—”
Elena grabbed her arm and began running towards the back even as the Turned bellowed her name from behind them.  Stumbling backwards as she tried to right herself, Caroline saw just as Enzo and his crew reached the pair before Bonnie shouted in her ear, “Let’s go; we don’t have time to be caught in a bar brawl!”
Bursting through the door, the Valkyrie finally released her vampiric friend’s limb and said, “Grab your keys!  Time to book it to Val Hall!”  When Bonnie started to argue, Elena cut her off quickly.  “It’s closer and they won’t be able to get past the lightning.  Plus, I’m ninety percent sure that they have a witch too.”
“Okay, ladies,” Caroline said as she ran past them, barely a blur, “we have way too much to talk about!  Just get in the car!”  Beeping the locks, she opened both front and rear passenger doors for the others, watching as Elena nose-dived immediately into the front seat.
Bonnie, however, stood facing the shaking bar, arms spread wide. Flames began to ignite in her hands and Caroline could have groaned.  So now the witch wanted to stand her ground?  What happened to not having time?!
“It’s time to go!” Caroline said sharply, drawing her friend’s attention.  Blazing eyes turned to her.  Waving her arms in a this-way motion, the vampire hissed, “We can always come back and whoop ass later, but right now, Elena kinda needs to leave.  The last thing we need is some Turned catching her and making her his Bride.”  Glancing back at the Doppelganger in her car, she murmured knowingly, “Unless you want the vampire?”
All she got was a glare, so she shrugged with a smile.  “I mean, to each their own; just had to check.”
However, neither of the other women seemed to think she was funny even though she was pretty sure she was hilarious.  Once again, different strokes for different folks.
“Fine.”  Bonnie started back towards the car, looking only a little put out.  “But only because this is the least of our worries right now,” she added testily, sliding into the backseat and slamming her door.  “We have to talk about the oracle—”
Slam!
All three females’ heads twisted back to the barely surviving door, only to see it on the pavement, the blue-eyed vampire snarling atop it.  He was fully vampiric now, his fangs long and lethal as black veins spread down his cheeks. His clothes and skin were splattered with blood, just to top off the whole look.  “Don’t even think about it, Elena,” he growled, stalking forward. “If I have to find you—”
Rolling her eyes, Caroline shook her blonde hair. “Okay, I’m done with this melodrama. Maybe you can call her and set up a date?  Instead of the whole vampire Tarzan thing?  We have stuff to do and you’re really—” she yanked a lamppost out its cement base “—getting in the way of that!”  Swinging the post over her shoulder, she shouted, “Batter up!”
In that moment, he charged, moving faster than even she could track.  Fuck, she thought, how old is this guy?  In the blink of an eye, he would be on her; if she swung, she wouldn’t get a second chance.  She had to make sure he couldn’t dodge
.
With a sudden hiss of pain, he dropped to his knees mere feet in front of her, fingers digging into his scalp.  A look over her shoulder showed Bonnie—from the safety of the car—clenching her hand much as she had with Enzo.
“Bonnie, coming in clutch with an aneurysm!” Dropping the light, Caroline strode to the car.  “Thank you.  While part of me believed I could do some damage, I didn’t want to take the chance that guy took my head off.”  She smiled as she climbed in the driver’s seat, casually adjusting her mirrors.  “I mean, he made it out of a bar brawl with a myriad of monsters; I don’t know how much hope I would have.”
“He’s starting to get up!” Elena cried.  “Go, go, go!”
Sure enough, despite the fact that Bonnie still had him, the vampire was struggling to rise to his feet, seeming to shake off the pain to focus on the Valkyrie.  He lifted his arm, pointing at her shakily.  “I’ll find you,” he snarled.
With a small squeak—and that wasn’t even directed at her—Caroline turned back around and put pedal to metal.  The tires screeching, she took off without looking back, just letting the car hit its top speed even as it shook.  “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” she chanted, nearly constantly looking into her rearview.  If he could resist Bonnie, what was to stop him from being fast enough to catch up?
Elena was breathing heavily, sinking into her seat in relief.  “I just want to get back to Val Hall to hang with my sisters, that’s it.  I need a stiff drink and a hot bath.”
Bonnie leaned between the front seats, hands on the back of each.  “We have a lot to talk about.  That Turned vampire is the least of our worries right now.  Caroline,” she turned her full attention to the blonde woman, “the Oracle at the House had a vision today about you.  She told us to watch after you, but that’s all she would give us; she says if you can avoid being captured for a week, to come to her and you’ll be ready for what she has to say.”
Caroline had to stop herself from slamming on the breaks at that.  “What?!” she demanded.  “And you didn’t think something like that was important to tell me immediately?! Who the hell is trying to come after me?!”
She wasn’t the one that immortals chased; there was nothing special about her.  She was just a seventy-four year old Born vampire whose parents ditched her the moment she transitioned into a full immortal.  Not a Doppelganger, not the most powerful witch in existence, not even a rare breed of monster that was strong enough to lift a semi.  There wasn’t a single thing that would make her stand out to anyone for an abduction other than knowing several High Profile beings.
Caroline Forbes was nothing to anybody but a side character in someone else’s story.  Wasn’t that exactly what had happened with Tyler?  Second best to someone he hasn’t even met yet, she thought as her hands clenched the steering wheel tight enough for it to start to crack.
“I don’t know!” Bonnie said.  “That’s why you need to lay low for a week!”
Elena sat up at last with a sigh, pushing her heavy chestnut hair back from her face.  “Which brings us to the next problem.”  Turning to Caroline, she explained, “There’s been sightings of a couple of Originals all around the county.  We don’t know what they’re after but we can guess it has something to do with me or Katherine Pierce, the Queen of Illusions and Persuasion.”
That seemed a touch more important than having to lay low for a week, at least in Caroline’s mind.  If someone was looking for her, it was usually to plan a party.
But when they were looking for either of the living Doppelgangers, it usually meant they were trying to do something evil; Doppelganger blood held mystical properties that’s power was through the roof.  Essentially, it was the immortal way of going nuclear in a war.
And the Originals—though they normally seemed to keep the murder and mayhem to a minimum—were the Vampire Royal Family.  No one was sure how old they were, but they were the strongest vampires in existence and were rumored to have untold power.  Though she’d only seen them in Lorean tabloids, like for Finn and Sage’s vow renewal twenty years before, that didn’t detract from the fact that they had strength not just as a collective but separately to do whatever they wanted.
Like most Born vampires, Caroline had grown up hearing stories of them and how, even without magic, they could day-walk, that they were all the strengths and none of the weaknesses.  What they wanted, they got, no matter how many innocent people they had to take down in the meantime.
So
.  “That seems a little more important than watching my back,” she conceded, glancing in the mirror at Bonnie as she pulled up to Val Hall.  “If the Originals are after Elena, she needs more protection than I do.”
As they stepped out of the car, Caroline noted that both Bonnie and Elena looked down at their shoes guiltily.  “That’s what we thought, too,” Elena murmured, looking up at Caroline from beneath her lashes.
“Not that you aren’t special enough to get kidnapped,” Bonnie hastily added, walking over to Caroline.  “Just
you know, she’s the Doppelganger.  But when I talked to the Oracle about it, she said that Elena would be safe until you were able to get the information from the prophesy.”
Making herself smile and jokingly wave her hand, she ignored the insecurity in her stomach; it hurt that nothing made her different from anyone else when two of her best friends were Big Deals.  But she was used to it, knew better than to show it to them.  “Guys, I’m not upset,” she said quickly.  “I don’t want to have a constant target on my back like the two of you; looking over my shoulder would definitely cut into my having fun time.” Linking arms with both of them, she strode towards the porch where two of Elena’s sister Valkyrie sat whittling shives.  “I only have to worry for a week; you two have your entire immortal lives.  I think I’ll survive.”
Insert Break
The next night, Caroline woke in a bed that wasn’t her own to the sound of Valkyrie battle cries.  The sound of them shook the entire house, the lightning outside striking so often it was like there was a spotlight shining through the curtains.
Instantly, the vampire remembered what she’d learned the day before, groaning at what the fighting meant.  I guess I should have known that we wouldn’t get a day off, she thought as she snatched up her clothes and matching stiletto blades. Sliding the weapons into the sheaths she’d had sewn into all of her shirts, she started out of her borrowed room and up the stairs at break-neck speed.
Bonnie had gone back to the coven the night before, hoping to get more information on what the Originals were looking for and who was after Caroline, so she probably had no idea there was even an attack yet. Luckily, going after a Valkyrie at Val Hall was one of the worst things you could do, so hopefully they didn’t need her.
Racing into the moonlight, Caroline was surprised to find
no one was there.  There was nothing outside except for the constant arcs of lightning and the shrieks coming from deeper in the forest.  But why would the Valkyrie lose home advantage, especially at night? There were so many Loreans that lived within those woods, yet they were leaving their house unprotected
.
Shaking off doubt, she dashed towards the fight, only then noticing the beginnings of gnawing hunger.  This was why she had suggested they go to the house she shared with Matt; there, they had the protection of a mortal living within the home and she had a fridge stocked full of blood bags.  Plus, while the other Valkyries put up with her, they weren’t exactly happy to have a vampire in the house, no matter how many times Elena reminded them that Caroline had been raised to never drink straight from the vein.
She slowed as she realized the sounds and flashes were still beyond her, even though she had to have covered the distance already.  What the hell?  Are they fighting that hard?  Her heart caught in her throat; the only beings that might be able to take on a house full of battle-trained Valkyrie were the Originals.  And she wouldn’t be surprised if the warrior women led the attackers further away from their goal.
Before she could take off after them again, she heard a throat clear from behind her.  Spinning around she saw the blue-eyed vampire from the night before.
“Sorry, Barbie,” the vampire said, arms and ankles crossed as he leaned lazily against the trunk of a tree.  “I really didn’t want it to have to come to this, but seeing as my Bride is hiding behind a shield of sisters, I had to figure out a way to lure her out.”  Too white teeth shown in the light as he pulled away from the tree.
Taking a step back, Caroline asked slowly, “How did you lead the Valkyrie away?”
He shrugged, following her.  “A Mimic owed me a favor; it started shrieking and all the Valkyrie followed.  Unfortunately, that worked against me because they brought Elena with them.”
For a moment, she could see a softening in his eyes at the mention of her friend and for that time, she wondered why Elena wouldn’t want to be the Bride of a devoted male.  To have someone care about you more than they cared about themselves, to want nothing more than your happiness
so many people searched centuries for that kind of love but not Elena.
Was that why Caroline wasn’t one of the Big Deals? Was the fact that she wanted to love and be loved in return why she would never be High Profile?
Not for the first time, she asked herself if she would always have to be second fiddle to Elena.
Lost in her thoughts, Caroline missed the male moving, was quickly caught by what felt like a shackle around her wrist.  She looked up at the vampire, feeling her vampire traits coming to her face.  “So, you’re going to ask Elena to come to you in exchange for me?  Isn’t that just so typical of immortal men?  No wonder she wants nothing to do with you.”
Okay, his vampire face was a bit more daunting than hers. “I’ll do whatever I have to, Blondie, to get my Bride.  Do you know how long I’ve been chasing her, what it feels like to have your body totally shut down?”  He yanked her closer, baring his fangs right in her face.  “I’m Turned; I’m sure you know that.  I felt myself die then woke up without my heart beating, without having to breathe.  For over a hundred and twenty years, I’ve looked all over for her.  I’ve paid my dues and now I get my reward.”
“You do realize I won’t go without a fight, right?” she asked, faking a yawn.  “Besides, if anything happens to me, Elena will never accept you.”  In a flash, she had one of her blades pressed to his throat even though his grip threatened to crush her other wrist.  Don’t get abducted for one week, that was the deal, she berated herself.  You had one job and you already screwed it up.  “So I think you’re the one with more to lose, don’t you?”
Keeping the blade against his throat meant that when he leaned forward, she had to lean back, giving her unsteady footing.  Not exactly advantageous, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She still had Elena to hold over him, of course.
“Then maybe I rip your head off here and leave you for the animals to eat.”  His smile turned sinister.  “No one will ever know what happened to you.”  Without so much as blinking, he ripped the stiletto out of her hand and tossed it away, completely decimating the bones in her wrist.  As she cried out in pain and tried to yank herself away, he flipped her to her back on the ground, his hand around her throat.  Crouching over her, she saw he wasn’t even the slightest bit breathless.  “If you swear to do what I say, though, I don’t have to kill you.  But if you don’t
they won’t know what happened to you.”
Blinking back the pain in her arm, she wanting to give some snappy comeback, to put on some bravado.  Unfortunately, she didn’t have much experience with anything other than friendly sparring so she
was
terrified.
Tears came to her eyes at being helpless, once again being collateral damage in someone else’s story.  “I’ll go with you just please
don’t kill me.”
5 notes · View notes
queen-of-deans-booty · 8 years ago
Text
Dead Man’s Blood- Part 1
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,643
Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual
Summary: John is back but this time, he comes with some news. How do you handle it and what does this mean for you and John?
Author’s Note: I don’t know how I felt about this one. Feedback would be greatly appreciated for this one. My emotions were mixed with this one.
I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!
Feedback is always appreciated
Tags at the bottom
Series Rewrite Masterlist
Tumblr media
"I don't think I've ever been this bored." You breathed heavily, walking into the motel room you had for a few days. You and the boys hadn't had a case for a while now and it was starting to eat at you. All your life, you've been busy and always had something to do. There was no time for downtime.
But recently, it's been like the cases didn't want to present themselves to you. So in the meantime, you decided to go to the gym right next store to get your blood pumping. Hunting was your workout and you tried working out as much as you can, so that is why you were very sweaty, very indecent, and very out of breath.
"Damn, sweetheart, you know you can always ask me for a workout." Dean looked up at you and winked. You blushed but Sam commented almost immediately.
"Please, not while I'm in the room." He didn't even look up from his laptop. You smiled and walked over to Dean, bending down and kissing the corner of his mouth, teasing him.
"I'll be in the shower." You smirked and stood up, swaying your hips as you walked away.
"Dean, sit your ass down." Sam said. You didn't have to look back to know that Dean was pouting. After a refreshing shower, you joined Dean on the bed and looked at the newspaper he was looking at.
"Still nothing?" You asked him.
"Still nothing. Sam, what do you got?" Dean folded the paper and put his arm around you, pulling you in close.
"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, and South Dakota. A woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived." Sam said, looking up.
"I don't think that's up our alley." You said, scrunching your face.
"Yeah." Sam mumbled.
"Hey you know we could just keep heading east back to Upstate New York. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick man. You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?" Dean smirked and looked at his brother. Sam sighed and smiled faintly at the memory of Sarah but shook his head.
"Yeah, I don’t know, maybe someday. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do Dean, and you know that."
"Alright, what else do you got?"
"Uh, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam said. You peeked up and looked at Dean.
"Elkins? I know that name." Dean said, getting up.
"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam shrugged. You looked at Dean to see him grab his father's journal. “Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery." Dean flipped through the journal, showing Sam a page when he found it.
“Dad mentions a man named Elkins in this journal. It has a number and everything.” Dean said.
"You think it's the same person?" You asked.
"It's a Colorado area number." Dean shrugged.
"Finally, something to do!" You smiled and got up, packing quickly. You three were on the road in no time, zooming to Colorado. It was snowing by the time you got there and you gasped like a child on Christmas Day.
"Dean, it's snowing!" You exclaimed. You looked back at him to see him smiling. It took you until nightfall to get to the place and when you did, there was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. You jumped out and grabbed a snowball, throwing it at Dean. He's always been quick with his reflexes and this time was no different.
"Sweetheart, we have work to do." You pouted but followed the boys inside. Everything was dark and you tried the light switch but it was busted. You took out your flashlight and looked around the place. It was a mess as if there was a real fight going on here.
"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean commented on the mess.
"Hey, there's salt over here, right beside the door." Sam said. Dean found a journal and opened it up, trying to see if there was anything to go off of.
"You mean protection against demon salt, or 'oops I spilled the popcorn' salt." Dean asked.
"It's clearly a ring. You think this guy Elkins was a player?" Sam asked.
"If by player you mean hunter, then yes." You shrugged. You and Sam both walked to Dean and looked at the journal.
"That looks a hell of a lot like John's." You commented.
"Yep, except this dates back to the 60s." You looked around the room again and decided to check out the room beside yours. There was a hole in the roof and a lot more destruction.
"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." You said, shining your flashlight at the hole.
"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." Dean said, coming up behind you. You didn't know what to look for but Dean did. He got on his knees and looked at the floor. You gave him light and frowned when you saw them.
"You got something?" Sam asked.
"I don’t know. There are some scratches on the floor." Dean ran his fingers against it.
"Death throes maybe?" You suggested.
"Yeah, maybe." Dean reached over the mess and grabbed some paper and a pencil, marking it to get an outline. "Or maybe it's a message." Dean peeled the paper off the floor and handed it to Sam.
"Look familiar?" you asked, noticing the looks on their faces.
"Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop." Sam looked at Dean who got up.
"Just like John." You looked at Dean who nodded.
"I saw a post office on the way. We should go." You didn't waste any time to get there. Of course, it was closed but that didn't stop Dean or Sam getting inside. At this point, you were probably more skilled than a top notch burglar. Dean got to the post office box and he opened the container.
There was one thing written on the back and you bit your lip. You wished John was here. When there was nothing else in the box, you left to the Impala but you didn't go anywhere. You stayed outside, looking at the letter.
"J.W.' You think? John Winchester?" Sam asked, sitting next to his brother.
"I don't know. Should we open it?" Dean wondered. Suddenly, there was a knock on Dean's window and you screamed a little, looking over to see John there. He scared the hell out of Sam and Dean too, but you were glad to see him. Before you could say anything, John got in the backseat and you moved over to make room for him.
"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm ok. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place."
"Why didn't you come in Dad?" Sam asked softly.
"You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed.... by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way." John praised his boys.
"Yeah, well, we learned from the best." Dean said proudly. You smiled and looked at him, loving how he loved to be praised.
"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked. It was weird he didn't show when you called about Mary or even when Dean was dying. But you didn't say anything.
"Yeah. He was... he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting."
"Well you never mentioned him to us." You pointed out.
"We had a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years. I should look at that," Dean handed the unopened letter to his dad and John opened it, reading it out loud. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead'... that son of a bitch."
"What is it?" Dean asked.
"He had it the whole time." What did Elkins have?
"What did he have?" You wondered.
"When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?" John asked you three urgently.
"Ah, there was an old case but it was empty." Dean said.
"Then they have it." John thought out loud. He was making no sense.
"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" You asked.
"We got to pick up the trail." John said, not bothering to explain.
"Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam wondered.
"If Elkins was telling the truth, we got to find this gun." John said.
"Why? What's so important about it?" You asked.
"Because it's important, that's why." John shrugged.
"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam said.
"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires."
"Okay now you're just shitting me. There are no such things as vampires." You scoffed.
"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and the others had wiped them out. I was wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." John explained.
"Okay, so what do you propose we do?" You asked him.
"We wait. We will go out tomorrow morning. So we need our rest." John got out of the car and decided to meet you wherever you guys were. You four ended up getting one room, which was difficult but you managed to make it work.
Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?
Series Rewrite tags:
@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines
Forever tags:
@gothic-neuromancer @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876
Dean tags:
@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester
Other tags:
@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm
79 notes · View notes
nukaworld · 8 years ago
Note
How are doing your Nuka World with Tracie? Are you rewriting Todd's Canon?
Yes and no. Honestly this will get long so if you are willing to read please I’ll put this under the cut. Warning for a bit of Fallout 4 critical there, though not anything too much. 
Nuka World and Far Harbor were the two “big” story driven DLCs but I think they were both sort of an experiment over us as the community to see what the people want. Nuka World had a huge map with so many new and colorful things, a lot of world building and lore to explore, and also added the option to be “evil” and had absolute endings - join the raiders or kill the raiders. However because of this it sacrificed plot and characters. 
Far Harbor was a more plot oriented DLC where the world building wasn’t as vast though it was still pretty great and the focus was more on making three dimensional and likable characters (and ALL of them are, I love everyone in Far Harbor) as well as many endings because I think Far Harbor has 7 endings + 2 optional ones where you destroy Acadia with either the Institute or the Brotherhood of Steel. So that’s 9 endings compared to Nuka World’s 2. For this it sacrificed quests because it was a rather short DLC but it tired doing everything the main game was criticized for. And if you ask me Far Harbor succeeded and I think Far Harbor is amazing and yes I would change few things there too but overall I think its a great DLC and with 94% positive reviews on Steam I hope Bethesda follows this road for Fallout 5 some day. 
Now back at where I come in. Nuka World’s black and white ending irritated me. So that’s the only thing I changed. I made it so that some of the raider’s don’t die, and instead they perhaps change their ways or leave. I don’t like that the Open Season quest is basically you going around a theme park massacring people. Yes some of the raiders are terrible people but other’s are just doing shit to survive - they were either born or raised as raiders and never knew anything else. Some might even try to reform. So my changes in my playthrough are that Tracie gives the Minutemen some cheesy Disney speech how they are no different from “us” and that they surrendered and the leaders are dead and most scattered and maybe not massacre the small people that were just following orders. And then she decides to turn the entire park into a settlement as well as a huge trading center for the East Coast - the raiders that wanted to follow her decided to work on some of the attractions she re-opened and change their ways. The others left were banished from the Commonwealth - but point being there was no need for bloodshed, not as much as the game. 
As for overall I feel like Nuka World tried too hard to be edgy and pull some Suicide Squad kind of Hot Topic bullshit and listen I am a very edgy person myself but even I think it just tried too hard. Yes the raider groups were funny, but it’s unrealistic to have the Sole Survivor suddenly become Queen/King Fuckface of the Wasteland and lead an army of raiders into the Commonwealth since like few months ago (in their mind) they were a middle classed suburban family. It’s not realistic to the already flawed narrative Todd gave us to begin with. 
Also I think Gage’s character was a bit poorly written in the sense of his motivation to stick with the Overboss, it feels really weak to me. You are forced to talk as if you want to take over Nuka World with the raiders and he just kind of blindly follows and honestly Gage isn’t as dumb as people portray him, he is pretty smart for a raider for what I’ve gathered. So him sticking with you while he betrayed Colter, while it has some explanation is incredibly weak. Also I know I will get a lot of fire for this so I’m really sorry in advance but I don’t think Gage romance was necessary. He doesn’t strike me as the type and it felt really half baked and “edgy” and lmao I don’t like badmouthing anyone for their interests but the worst thing’s in Gage fandom came directly from the romance and there are few mutuals of mine here who have nice Gage romances and head canons and I like them, but just open AO3 and bask in the mischaracterization and weird Joker/Harley Quinn-esque shit. So I can just say they did Gage dirty too, a lot.
And worst of all unless you are a ride or die Preston fan like me, you will miss the fact that Preston is Gage’s contrast as in Preston is supposed to be your companion through the park if you decide to wipe the Raiders. He has so far as I’ve discovered four new lines of dialogue specifically for Nuka World! I have that post here if you wanna read. And that is not made clear at all? In the game? At all? So much that not even the wiki people know he has four new lines of dialogue? No one took the love of my life Preston to Nuka World? I digress, but you get my point. The plot was just not the focus so it butchered these characters. Also the Raider bosses have a lot of personality but unless you play a raider, you really don’t get to see it. Probably if you play as a raider you get to see it and realize it’s not that good. So I feel bad for the nice concepts of characters stuck in this DLC. 
Now as for Tracie, first i’m gonna tag @star-lord since they asked me about this yesterday (I hope this is okay!), but back to Tracie, she is a good person, and neither me nor her would ever agree to help raider’s enslave and murder people for whatever reason, I had to work around on my playthrough to justify it with a story. I cleared the park with Gage as a companion cause I paid like 20$ for this shit and I needed to get my content. And I somehow maxed out my affinity with him through I guess really lucky strategic lockpicking. Then I got the Open Season from the lady at the Market and well....you know how it goes from this point on :/ So story wise Tracie would absolutely argue with Preston on this matter because she thinks she can “help” the raiders at Nuka World become better people. And she genuinely thinks she can make a change without bloodshed and Preston is a good and hopeful soul, but I’m afraid he knew better than her on this one. 
Still he was fine with trying because he doesn’t want to kill unless he has to but still they are raiders. So she goes at Nuka World and she accepts being Overboss and tries befriending Gage in her own kind of silly ways. I am pretty sure Gage despite being a raider is smarter than her, she is just kind of not that smart and also very naive but her heart is in the right place. And she will clear out the park with Gage and I am pretty sure she will grow on him like a little kid or a little sister cause she is much younger. And then she presents him with her plan which he knows its not gonna work and not only that he won’t let it work. And I am working on the details on my plot here but she eventually does come with the Minutemen to Nuka World to stop the raiders, Gage does turn to her and yeah she does have to fight him :/ I love the angst though, she considered him to be her friend and she thought he was changed, that he became good. And I think this taught her a very, very valuable lesson that not everyone can be changed by “the power of friendship” and she needs to be more careful who she trusts. Because I make Disney features exclusively Gage doesn’t die but he fucks off somewhere far away and he still remains an antagonist from start to finish. And Tracie as I said above frees the merchants, instead of killing the raiders offers them to work in the park or leave the Commonwealth with their heads and turns Nuka World into a huge settlement/trading center/city. Oh and they are cool with Preston in the end, they still love each other. So yay! Happy ending! 
I just felt like writing a friend to enemy arc for once and I felt that Gage is not the character to get a redemption arc. He shows no remorse for his raider life and in fact he willingly joined it. He is living by those ideals and has been for all of his life so stripping him of that with some half baked redemption arc will ruin his character in my opinion. This doesn’t mean he cannot love or like the Sole Survivor, I’m just saying unlike me making the ex-antagonists from FNV and FO4 (Benny, Ulysses, X6) into friends or at least weird uncles to the protagonists in all my stories, I wanted to not do that for once and I think it fits Gage. 
So that’s all I will probably infodump the details of this story someday like all Disney and stuff, but I am testing the grounds because I really don’t want someone coming at me for I don’t know “demonizing” or “vilifying” Gage or whatever. 
13 notes · View notes
mrswhozeewhatsis · 8 years ago
Text
Homesick
A/N: This is my third (and final, unless I get a bug up my butt) submission for the 2017 Louden Swain SPN Mini Bang. I have loved this song since the first time I heard it! It’s short and cute and adorable and it makes me happy. If you haven’t heard it, check it out here. Sadly, I couldn’t come up with a truly happy SPN scenario, because, well, you know. Hope this comes close to the feeling behind the song, though. As always, many thanks to the best betas in the world, @manawhaat and @littlegreenplasticsoldier who make me think and constantly challenge me. ♄♄♄
Summary: Set during the Pilot episode, while Dean is showering off the sludge from his dip in the river. Sam thinks about what home means to him.
Pairing: Sam x Jess
Warnings: Angtsy cuteness and fluffiness. You’ll see what I mean.
Word count: 852 words
Tumblr media
Jericho isn’t that far from Palo Alto, relatively. Sam’s been all over the country, knows distances in terms of Zeppelin albums and pit stops to gas up the Impala, and Palo Alto to Jericho didn’t even make his butt fall asleep. If he’d “borrowed” a car, he’d be worried about the cops stopping him, that’s how close to home he is.
Home. What a concept.
Even knowing that he’s so close doesn’t stop his desire to be back home, though. He doesn’t want to be here with Dean. He gave this up. He’s been safe and blessedly normal for over 3 years, now, and to be dragged back into it is stressing him the fuck out. He should be back home with Jessica. He needs to be back home with Jessica. More than anything, though, he wants to be back home with Jessica. Even knowing he’ll see her in a day or so, he aches.
He's never felt a longing like this to be somewhere specific before. Sure, he’s wanted to be anywhere other than where he was, plenty of times, but he’s never had a point on a map he could aim towards. No true North. There was never an image of a specific door he’d go through to see a specific person whose eyes would light up when they saw him. He thinks this might be what feeling homesick is like, but it feels strange.
When he first got to Stanford, he was sort of homesick, but it was very different. The home he dreamed of didn’t have a shingled roof or four walls. His internal compass could have doubled as an industrial fan. Back then, home was four tires on the road, his brother making mac ‘n cheese with marshmallow fluff, and a line of weapons to be cleaned. This feeling is for the comfy couch in his living room, the leftovers in his fridge, the king-size bed he actually almost fits in, but mostly, the woman he shares it all with.
God, he misses Jess.
Sam looks around the motel room. It’s musty and dark, there are newspaper clippings and copies of pages from lore books tacked to the walls, and there’s a thick salt line on the dirty carpet. It’s the epitome of a long hunt; it’s what he pictures when he thinks of his dad, and of his childhood. Just being here feels like slipping on an old coat that he outgrew. Dean hums Ramble On badly in the shower making Sam grimace. Dean can’t hold a tune to save his life.
Jess sings pop tunes in the shower, and her voice carries through the rest of the apartment, making him smile every time. She always gets the words wrong. Maybe it’s intentional. She makes up silly lyrics, singing them seriously when she notices Sam watching her, putting on what looks like a professional concert with a hairbrush in her hand. Her smile takes over her face, her eyes bright, her jaw open wide showing even her back teeth as she belts Kelly Clarkson or Maroon 5. Sam always laughs, never able to take his eyes off her.
When she finally ends her performance, he always pulls her into his lap and kisses her soundly. She kisses him the same way, whether it’s after a lazy afternoon together in bed or a day apart, like she can’t get enough of him. He always thought someday they’d find a shortcut kind of kiss. A quick peck to say, “Have a good day,” or chaste little kisses that say, “I love you but I have to go or I’ll be late.” That never happened, though. No matter how late they are, Jess always makes time for a kiss that warms him from the inside out and says, “I love you no matter what else is going on.” Let the world crumble; they will kiss.
The shower turns off, and Sam tries to bring himself back to the present. Dean doesn’t emerge from the bathroom right away, though, so his thoughts wander again.
Having a hunt right now, having Dean show up right now, with everything that’s going on back home, makes him nervous. He aced his LSATs, he’s got the interview of his life on Monday, and he’s one paycheck away from having enough money for the ring he picked out. That’s why he had the dream, he’s sure of it. He’s planning a future, and Dean crashing into his living room right after that stupid dream is just a coincidence. It’s his fear that this hunt, Dad being missing, and everything he’s left behind will crash into that future that he wants so badly. The thing that killed Mom is long gone, so the dream is just a manifestation of his fears.
There’s absolutely no reason for him to worry. He’ll be home, and Jess will be alright, and he’ll feel like an idiot for worrying. He just needs to get through this hunt, find Dad, and then he can have his interview, take care of Jess, and enjoy being home again.
Once he’s home, they’ll be alright.
Ye olde forever tags list: @abaddonwithyall @busybee612 @ilostmyshoe-79 @charmingnoodle @oriona75  @spnashley @manawhaat @sammit-janet @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mrsjohnsmith @mamapeterson @charliesbackbitches @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @castielsbecky @scorpiongirl1 @deanlover7712 @iwantthedean @growningupgeek @feelmyroarrrr @chelseamarie73 @classy-sassyandsmartassy @spectaculacular-sammy @sarahbearccxc @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @sleep-silent-angel @helixiaray @badwolfstoletheimpala @nichelle-my-belle @my-mind-is-incognito @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ashiewesker @deansleather @your-kidding-me-smalls @winchesterprincessbride @suckonthesedragonballs @chelsea072498 @helvonasche @rizlowwritessortof @supernatural-jackles @wheresthekillswitch @lucifer-in-leather @sandycub @d-s-winchester @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @sandlee44 @superwholoki @charred-angelwings @percywinchester27 @jared-padaloveme @melissaj616 @sylverminx @sassyspn67
SPN tag sheet users: @vintagevalentinexx @thinkwritexpress-official @bowtiesandapplepie @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches  @deandoesthingstome @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @SinceriouslyAmellPadalecki @i-never-said-a-pilot @thewinchestielboys @supermoonpanda  @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @prettyxwickedxthings @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien @olitzisbae @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls  @shortandlongstories @ackleslaugh @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @chrisatplay @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @for-the-love-of-dean @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @beachy2014 @impossible-box @tia58 @sams-little-toy @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @saving-things-hunting-family @jotink78 @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @pinknerdpanda @alangel1895
71 notes · View notes
crazyfangarlady · 8 years ago
Note
Sildy I know like little of the windy son I drew for you please ramble about him to me 💙 also how's the green bean
my boy my man my love ZACH I’m calling it right now this is going to take me the night if I don’t try to keep it short.
Imiel is doing good!! Kind of in a lore pause while he waits for his boss’s new dragon to be born. Jeez, Ono.
nOW for proper rambles under the cut~
Most of that can probably already be found in his tag on my blog, but honestly I don’t even remember what’s in there anymore or how accurate it is. Though it’s probably still mostly good, if you wanna check it out for details I might skip here~(sidenote: after checking out his tag myself I realized there are interactions with some people you do Not like in there so. While the info is good and there is no connected lore, be wary some not-nice names are included. ;v;)
I am tORN though because there’s this huge shift between how he’s been for most of the time I had him and his current state due to Recent Lore Happenings. So whiCH ZACH DO I TALK ABOUT?? 
the answer is probably to start from the beginning. More rambles for your soul. This will be too long and I am slightly sorry
Zach’s a wind mage, and part of my pirate crew, as the helmsdragon - basically, he makes the ship fly, up to creating artificial winds when needed to steer it where they want to go. That’s basically all he does- he doesn’t even take part in any of the the fighting or plundering (when the rest of the crew’s busy doing That, he’s still flying the airship). Our man doesn’t much like fighting, you see.

which might sound weird coming from a pirate, but he’s not always been one. It’s quite a recent thing, even. He was born to a family of very rich merchants from the Cloudsong, and lived most of his life basically free from trouble. Good living environment, a family that loved him more than anything - he has a twin sister, named Adara, and they grew up real close. Best sibs.
The only thing that sets him apart from the rest of his fam is his proficiency at magic. And the man is crazy good at it. It’s innate. Heck, he could make things around him and himself as well fly before he even knew how to walk or how to speak. He was quite a handful as a child. Thankfully he was well-behaved.His parents tried to hire confirmed mages to teach him to make the best out of his powers, but it???? didn’t yield anything. Mostly because he didn’t understand the methods they wanted him to apply, and also because he didn’t want to try much
 So he just kept on going with whatever he could do on his own, and not much understanding why or how it worked. Why would he?? It felt more natural to him than so many other things that were already effortless. 
(People who know his powers like to joke that to be this talented, he must be the windsinger’s own son. But they’re not that far from the truth
 His sister was an only egg, and a fragile one- the others had been created lifeless. Their parents prayed to the Windsinger that she’d live, and Winddad heard them. He also heard how sad they were that their other eggs did not live, and so he was like. “Yknow what, I’m gonna do y’all a favor”, and while strengthening Adara’s own egg, created a perfect copy of it from his own magic, out of which Zach would be born.)(An identical copy of his sister, created from pure magic, by his god’s own hands. Come on, he’s made of the stuff, of course it’d flow naturally to him.)
ANYWAY. Sadly, good times have an end, he has to end up on that pirate ship somehow.
See, his family’s business was well-established, making lot of money and all. But some people didn’t like that, or certain new decisions they’d made. And one rousing scandal and some carefully planted ‘evidence’ later, their name was that of traitors, and the heads of the family, imprisoned. So our man Zach, who’d been enjoying life half doing his own thing, half helping out with said business, found himself homeless, money-less, and with everyone he used to know turning his back on him, either believing the lies or not wanting to associate with him to save face. 
I think he left the Cloudsong for a little while, maybe went to his sister’s
 But eventually he came back, because it was all that he knew. Maybe to see if things had changed? He’s a stubborn one. Well, they had not, and he ended up finishing his day in some random tavern in the not-so-well-frequented area. By which I mean, most of the patrons being outlaws of some sort. The only place where people would serve him anymore without at least a handful of people giving him weird looks.
That’s where he happened upon my pirate crew, and most specifically its captain, Eydis. They’d met once before, but in very different circumstances (still good though). But all that Eyds remembered basically boiled down to “this guy is a good mage, and I need a new one of those, hEY GUY OVER THERE WANNA WORK FOR ME?”
(She’s not very subtle)
(And he was kind of in a reckless mood so he was like “A friendly face? Sign me up”)(
he just did not remember that she was a pirate. Only that he didn’t associate any negative things with her, and in that moment, that was all he needed.)(...he still has trouble explaining his reasoning from back then now. If someone asks him, he say he just followed his instinct- maybe it was a little push of fate? But hey, things turned out for the better!)
So he became a member of my pirate crew. Befriended most everyone quite easily, tbh, he’s a very sympathetic guy, and a very valuable asset to the crew too. Things went so well he ended up falling in love with Eydis, they even had some kids... At some point down the line my man Cenric comes back to the crew too, falls hard for Zach, who also loves him quite a lot, and Eydis is like “if you don’t both confess I will personally make this happenïżœïżœïżœ and now they’re dating too. Its generally just Chill for a good, long time period. Happiness up on a (pirate) airship.
THEN Carver, his son, happens to die. That’s hard blow #1. He kind of bottles it up, because he’s not good at dealing with things and if he just stays positive he can do as if nothing happened, right? right??TheN, within only a few months, some heck happens over with his other two children. That’s hard blow #2. This one is a little harder to shake off. On top of Carver’s death, the emotional toll becomes kind of heavy. He’s having a bit of trouble right now tbh, not to mention that Eyds is not doing her best either- and with their captain in a bad spot, the entire crew can feel it. That’s two of their most energetic people down. The mood is just Not That Great..
AND THEN more stuff happens but this is hella long so imma cut it there bc it is Not Official Yet (and once it is it’ll probs come out in a pseudo-update that’s just Bad Writing: Discord Update Edition bc i Cannot Hecking Write)
BUT!!!!! Some Bulletpoint Zach Facts for you still, in no particular order:
When I say he was born an identical copy of his sister aside from the magic powers, I mean it. He’s a trans man~
He “befriended” a Crowned Roc once. Which is to say, it tolerates him. He gets to ried on its back sometimes. By sitting on it and keeping himself stable with magic. 
Said Roc is the one he got almost all his Windbound feathers from. Blessed them himself. In my lore, they are good luck charms and magic catalysts popular among wind flight mages
I’d talk about his approach to magic more but I found some posts instead
The jade jewelry he wears means a lot to him, and he gifted some to both his SOs, so have some very short things I wrote about those bc im a sappy shit
He almost never sleeps full nights, instead taking several short naps throughout the day. It takes a little while for other people to get used to it.
He’s, as of now, probably the most powerful dragon of my lair. And he doesn’t even realize it. This man is all potential... but almost only that.
He loves his family so much it is literally The Most Important thing to him ever. Family goes before anything else
His hair looks so ridiculously good all the time, he takes good care of it. He enjoys doing other people’s hair, too
He can’t fight to save his life
He’s almost killed a man once, though. Without even lifting a finger. I’ll need to tell that story someday. It was terrifying.
I’m cutting his hair off in future lore. It will be missed.
I love him so much but don’t do enough with him and also it’s sUPER LATE so I might stop here?
Oh wait look its theme songs time
That’s all I think?
If you have any more questions feel free to ask
Thank you so much for reading QvQ ♄
1 note · View note