#sorry clive and gray

[ind1exo]

First Impressions of WH Characters (In My POV)

The reactions I had were based on their appearance, trailers, or their appearances in routes. Some of these may be goofy but just bare with me, thanks.

Elias - Link?! (From Legend of Zelda)

Yukiya - Ike?! (From Fire Emblem)

Luca - He doesn't look like any of the characters I recognize... He's just green and that's it.

Klaus - Like Santa claus?

Randy - He looks like a nice guy and also giving off zesty vibes.

Azusa - He's so pretty! Why is there so many "???" in his bio? welp

Joel - Wow a cute boy with different colored eyes!

Vincent - He looks... kind of old.

Leon - He looks strange and why is he white all over?

Cerim - Why tf did he put a knife on the MC's throat? I don't like him already.

Guy - Well he IS a guy...

Glenn - A samurai warrior looking guy is in a wizard game?

Leslie - Is that a girl? *Quickly realizes it's a boy* Oh, duh-

Sigurd - Never thought I'd see a purple haired boy with yellow eyes. Odd.

Mel - This guy has an attitude for someone younger than the MC-

Zeus - He seems like a pompous prick based off that CG of him cornering MC.

Klaus 2 - OMG KLAUS GOT A SEQUEL?! *Does the route immediately*

Hiro - Emo boy vibes.

Alfonse - He looks an AWFUL lot like Elias and Klaus. Suspicious.

Caesar - *Thinks of Julius Caesar... then of Caesar salad.* A character that turns into a pig is... Well, alright then.

Lucious - Femboy prince vibes over here!

Hugo - Isn't that an enemy? We get to date an enemy now?

Hisoka - I can tell he's not a human by his appearance. He reminds me of Sascha from BiR.

Rembrandt - Hold up we're dating the Headmaster now??? How is that supposed to work-

Nox - Didn't really care to know about him at first What is he wearing? Is he a prince or something?

Rex - Also didn't really care to know about him at first He was a night classer? Why does he kind of look good in that night class uniform though?

Gray - His name is a color? Alright... He probably went by something else originally. And I bet he's some bratty pretty boy prince based off that smug of his... not sure where I drew that conclusion

Ted - Ted like Teddy bear? Wow we're really dating more furries and animals...

Lars - He seems to really like the MC a LOT. I feel bad that his own brother hates him. Woah that dancing CG though!

Clive - Uhh why does he hate his brother so much? That one face is creepy af. I don't really like him ehh- aged REALLY badly

Florin - He seems okay but, I don't like his last name. I've had conflict with someone who's name was this guy's last name so... yeah

Albert - He's wearing clothes similar to Klaus... An Auburne?!

Light - He lowkey reminds me of Dark Pit (From Kid Icarus Uprising). And... very creative name.

Viggo - A random emo night classer I guess.

Vain - What in the world are these strange looking characters?

Felix - Ugh he looks so scary and emotionless-

Lacan - Phew, glad he's way more friendlier than Felix.

Liz Hart (Older design) - I expected her to appear Japanese... She looks cute but I don't. Like. The. Hair.

Liz Hart (Newer design) - Thank the Lords!! She looks SO much better now.

Amelia Nile - I like her vibe. I was worried about a potentially bad roommate before I even saw her.

Augustus - He seems like one of those athletic frat boys, I guess.

Scarlett - Finally a female lover! ...Only in the spin offs? Uh, alright? At least Amelia gets some action herself.

Randolph - *Automatically thinks of Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer for some reason*

Schuyler - He seems edgy and I have a bad feeling about him.

Merkulova - I can tell he's the nicest professor.

Carbuncle - Looks like a Pokémon.

Taffy - Like the Laffy Taffy candy?

Eress - Is she a bug?

Ronny - This squirrel has an attitude-

Chica - Her name is literally girl-

Mischa - She seems suspiciously neutral.

Hachi - I like him already with the occasional "woof woof" he does.

Chocolate Cake - Is that supposed to resemble Morgana..? That's bootleg Morgana.

Nidhogg - I don't like how he looks like an Oni, he's definitely not a friend at first. *Originally gave him Monokuma voice*

Shu - Aww, a cute dragon!

[floertoer]

cana before tenrou -- part 1 of a longer post

cana has had 3 parents in her life. the first being her mother. cana's mother was kind, caring, beautiful, and could do no wrong in her eyes. for the first 8 or so years of her life all she had was her mother. sure, her mom had told her stories of her father but he always seemed far away. he was like a myth, the strongest man in the west, he seemed untouchable compared to her mother who was always here for her. then her mom died and cana has no choice but to go on a quest to find this legendary hero.

fairy tail doesn't have any children in their guild. being a mage is dangerous work, not something a child should be doing, at least not one as young as cana. that's what makarov thinks as he looks at this little girl, but she did come all this way and she said she has no where else to go. perhaps it will be okay, just this once. she won't go on any quests yet, not until she's older but she can do some work around the guild.

cana is glad fairy tail accepted her, she really doesn't have anywhere else to go. she's not sure what fairy tail saw in her that her father didn't but small victories. cana's never doubted her mother and she never thought of her father, but now her whole life has flipped. her mother used to tell her that her father loved them and if he could he would be with them, and cana's never doubted that, but now she's not sure. cana can't stop thinking about her father, nor can she stop doubting her mother's words. did he even know he had a daughter? all she wanted to hear him say was her mother loved them and if she could she would be here with them.

macao and wakaba don't want kids. in fact, they don't really like them that much. ivan's ankle biter, laxus, is about as hyperactive and annoying as they come. they hoped another kid in the guild would help mellow him out, but cana isn't playful, she's sad -- really sad. it's honestly hard for them to watch how she mopes around the guild. unbeknownst to them she's mourning her mother and relationship with her father. wakaba worries if it's healthy for a kid to frown that much and her always red rimmed eyes are enough to make anyone feel bad. so they decide to take matter into their own hands and take her out on a job. nothing dangerous, the library needed help sorting some books. it's boring and they'd never choose a job like this but it's good for cana.

it's clear to cana that macao and wakaba have never handled children before. they're awkward, clearly knowing nothing about what children like, and inattentive, just letting her walk off and not even noticing. they're nothing like her mother, but they always come looking for her, so clearly they're nothing like her father either. cana is craving any type of parental affection so she quickly latches on to them and surprisingly they don't mind.

as cana got older more kids came to the guild. cana always welcomed new additions, she liked having more people to play with. laxus had recently entered his angsty teen phase and didn't like running around with her anymore. so when natsu joins she greets him with open arms, the more the merrier.

then gildarts comes back. over the years cana has never gathered the courage to tell gildarts of her identity. not that she had many chances considering he never stayed at the guild for more than a week. still she craved a relationship with him so whenever he left she would bring him a lunch and wave goodbye. she asked makarov once why he didn't stay longer, why he never seemed interested in hanging around. master had seen through her, and told her it wasn't personal, that gildarts' was always like that. he was a nomad at heart and didn't care for children. cana accepted that -- so why was gildarts smiling so much at natsu? why whenever he came back to the guild he would stay longer to hang out with him? was it because natsu challenged him? was it a strength thing? even though he's younger than her, natsu is strong, and apparently he was raised by a dragon. is that what she needs to be to get gildarts attention?

if cana was bitter toward natsu after a visit from gildarts no one mentioned it. although gray did look at her weirdly. macao and wakaba were always so irresponsible with children. what were they thinking leaving alcohol in the reach of her? now cana understood why adults drank alcohol so much, it makes everything a little bit easier. cana has had 3 parents in her life, and not one of them was her father.

[cliji]

can sqex plagiarize the percabeth gray hair streak for cliji

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Musk Deer

M. Lopes da Silva: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the glitter deer da Silva: what if elon musk got killed by a deer da Silva: but not just any deer da Silva: a gray goo glitter deer

da Silva: what if elon musk got killed by a deer Stephen King: god we should be so lucky King: i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that out loud King: he's just been really frustrating lately

Elon Musk: [rising from bushes] eyyyy Stephano king, itsa me elon musk! Musk: your besta friend! King: oh elon yeah we were just talking about you Musk: oh? why? King: King: no reason Barker: we were talking about you getting killed by a deer King: CLIVE

Musk: eyyy you thinka you so smart you writa about me da Silva: i don't usually write about you Musk: people cannta stop talking abouta elon! Musk: its because ima SO COOL da Silva: da Silva: right da Silva: mostly i write about thwarted trans masc love and weird brain bugs

da Silva: like, what if they put a worm in your head that ate all your gay thoughts? Barker: that would have to be one HUNGRY worm Barker: ha ha Barker: like, SO hungry

da Silva: have you ever been in love with a tree tho? Barker: well, i think everyone's fucked a tree at some point da Silva: no da Silva: have you been IN LOVE with a tree? Barker: Sofia Ajram: YEAH CLIVE Ajram: IN LOVE WITH da Silva: but also yeah fucking the tree

da Silva: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the pumpjack king da Silva: it's about a desert cult around a pumpjack da Silva: but also da Silva: get it? da Silva: eh? eh? King: i get it! King: ha ha i get it!

Musk: eyyy Stephano king whats so funny King: never mind elon you wouldn't understand King: it's kind of a pun Musk: i know da puns!! Barker: sure thing, Freddy krugerrand King: oh!! there's another one!!!!

[brb-on-a-quest]

So the other day I made a post about writing fanfiction about Dante's Inferno, and I've come to you all with about 3 weeks left in the deadline to ask whether it's good enough plot-wise to submit (because I'm a coward and I don't trust my own judgment and to share my writing with people who know me IRL is kind of a nightmare). So I ask, if people have time, for gentle critiques or whether I should toss it into the eternal fire (I'll save the jokes). One massive thing about it is that it's 800 words over length, so I may have to double-submit it (because that's an option for us, it just counts as double the points and I don't trust my writing that much), or talk to my professor and see if he can help me decide what to cut.

It's about 2.2k in length, and trigger warnings that it takes place in hell, so there are mentions of violence and abuse, but it is very light.

A Modern Pilgrim’s Guide to Hell

By brb-on-a-quest

He had found me while I was walking in the woods; I had strayed far from the safe arms of campus and ran into sight of three mafiosi: one who barked like a wolf and told me to “go to hell,” one who barked like a leopard, and the final one shook his lion-like mane as he told me to “turn around and don’t come back here for the sake of your soul.” 

I, not wishing to be murdered on a fine day, turned around and walked in the other direction. The woods grew more vast and dark. My shoes crunched on twigs and leaves and I realized I, somehow, had turned off very far from the way I had come, and I was unsure how to get home. 

All too conveniently, he had appeared. “You look lost; can I help?” Before me stood a man in a gray suit, the hair all but gone from the top of his glossy head. The moon illuminated his presence, making him seem somewhat transparent and ethereal. He was smiling at me in a sort of familiar, grandfatherly way that made me want to trust him, despite alarm bells ringing. 

“No.” I was not going to walk with a strange man, even if I was lost. I wasn’t about to get murdered-

My stomach grumbled, I realized I hadn’t eaten that day and must have been near dinner now. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was hungry. “If you could point me back in the direction of campus, that would be great.” 

“Alright, prepare for a journey through hell.” He laughed. “I’ll get you home eventually.”

I blinked, chuckling awkwardly. Please let that be an exaggeration. 

“I’m sorry, I believe I didn’t get your name.” The woods were getting darker as we moved away from the mafiosi. There was a building, several yards ahead, that the stranger seemed to veer towards. Raindrops came through the thick canopy and hit my face, shoulders, and hair, at first intermittently before progressing all at once. 

“Ah, yes, pardon, where are my manners? It’s Clive. C.S. Lewis.” He turned around. “I was sent here by a friend of yours. John Tolkien?” “John Tolkien?” I blinked. “As in J.R.R. Tolkien?” “Well, he goes by Jolkein Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien nowadays after seeing that go ‘round the Internet, but yes, the very one.” 

“He considers us friends?” 

“You visited his grave once when you traveled to our homeland last year and prayed for his soul; one doesn’t forget that kindness; therefore, he’s decided to help you with that writing inspiration you were asking about the other day. Regrettably, he can’t meet you until much later, but he does send his regards.” 

“And you’re C.S.-right? Oh my god.” My jaw dropped as I finally put the two pieces together. “You’re the Clive Staples Lewis. You wrote my entire childhood. I loved the Chronicles of Narnia-” The words tumbled out of my face rapidly, like a cascade of water over rocks. “My Dad would read your stories to me every night. And now you’re here. This is a dream. I must be dreaming.” 

C.S. gave a little bow, with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “Oh, I know. Happy to be of service. Please call me C.S.-- it sounds a bit nicer than Clive Staples, don’t you think?”

I nodded, my body felt too airy to fully speak all of the words I was thinking. After a moment’s pause, C.S. gestured to the building ahead of us, “Now, shall we continue? I’d rather get out of this rain before going forward.” 

I heard the screams first before we had toed the lines over the threshold. Loud, guttural screams rang in my? ears and made my heart stop beating for a moment. “What is that?” My voice was warbling. I hadn’t heard that much raw emotion in a single cry for months. 

“The damned, the poor devils.” C.S. shook his head. 

It was then I took notice of the building in front of us. It could barely be qualified as a shed. There were profanities graffitied all over the side of the building, looking as if it was dripping and blurring in the rain that beat against it. Shingle pieces fell off the roof, rust corroded away most of the metal pipes. We approached the door that looked slightly off-center in the proportions of the building and had words etched into its wooden panels. Or it did at one point, they had been clawed through multiple times so that it took more effort to try and follow what it had once read: 

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here. 

“This looks like a haunted house. Or a mob front.” I chuckled awkwardly, partially to my guide and partially to myself, as a way to cope with the awkward feelings in my throat. The wet grass did not mix well with the strong odors of paint that always gave me a migraine. Perhaps I have been duped. And I let myself be duped. But then how would he know about the Tolkien Trip-? My thoughts were cut off by the doorknob shrieking, the noise grating against my poor ears. 

He entered, and my feet followed, though my spirit was unwilling. The shed was surprisingly spartan on the inside. Chairs lined the wall and went down the middle. Heat blasted against my face, burned my skin, and my clothes instantly felt dry. 

My guide went up to speak with the front desk, and bade me to follow him. “Stay close, no good getting separated here.” 

I scowled, my rage rising to the roof of my mouth with its iron taste. I just wanted to write my paper and maybe scroll through social media for a while; I didn’t want to go on an entire spiritual journey. I don’t have time to go on a spiritual journey. I have to write my final paper and check my messages. 

I didn’t hear what C.S. told the front desk, where a half-bull, half-man creature sat flicking a whip at one of the souls in front of him, marking him with a certain number of lashes. One. Two. Three.  My skin jumped with every crack. I turned my face to bury it in my guide’s shoulder. C.S. grabbed my hand and squeezed as Minos grumbled something about ‘upper management interference’ and flicked his whip in the direction of the wall. It opened to reveal another room. “That would be the second circle of hell. Come with me, please.” C.S. started pulling me closer to the door. 

The heat grew more intense, and I squinted to avoid it blowing into my eyes too much. The smell of smoke and burning brown muck overpowered my nostrils. Something squished audibly underneath my shoes, and I recoiled at the sound. Ahead of me, I saw many creatures furiously smashing away on keyboards attached to these boxy computer monitors from the 90s. Most of them were round and bulbous. Their chins bled into their necks, and the fat dangled from their arm-like appendages and stomachs. Horns emerged from the top of their head and curled around to pierce them at the temple. 

“What are they?” I shuddered, all the input overloading my senses until I wanted to scream. 

“It would be better to ask what they once were,” C.S. said as he took my hand and patted it comfortingly. 

Instinctively I knew that they, like me, had been human once. “This isn’t what I thought hell would be like.” I mean, it was and it wasn’t. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but when I read Dante’s version, I had imagined much worse.

“Times change. God’s divine justice doesn’t change, but sinners do; the way they need to be punished will vary differently.” C.S. said very matter-of-factly. 

Suddenly, a ding rang throughout the room and the goblin-esque figures began to cry out with one voice, a shriek of eternal wrath and pain cuts appeared across their skin. I jumped and hid behind my guide. “What’s going on?” 

“Ah, a new message.” C.S. patted my head thoughtfully. “Don’t worry, they’re too absorbed in their own worlds to hurt you.” 

“What’s going on?” I repeated. 

“These souls have committed sins using technology for evil intentions. Cyberbullying, harassing, wrath, lust, and envy.” 

“And their punishment is to continue what they did in life?” I edged out from behind C.S.’, taking another hard look. 

“They prioritized screen time over God, so God allowed them to reap the consequences of that choice. Come, I promise, they’re too caught up in their screens to notice anyone around them, and we have more things to see before we’re done.” C.S. grabbed my hand, and I followed him, cringing at the squishing noises underneath my feet made by this ooze. Looking over their shoulders, I saw sausage-like fingers furiously typing at janky keyboards, long paragraphs filled with profanities, uncharitable arguments, and negative emojis. Whoever they were messaging seemed only to goad them on further into their hell, as none of the souls even turned to give me a momentary glance. 

“There’s no rest for the internet troll, thus they do not deserve any in the afterlife.” 

At least I’m not like them. I felt a mix of pity mixed with disgust at the damned souls that were grumbling and typing away at either side of me. There was one up ahead who had a very coppery orange tan that made his hair look even more bleached. Is that… Donald Trump? I didn’t know he had died. I had the temptation to poke him on the shoulder, to grab his attention, to ask their name, and to strike up a conversation. The oozing pus dripping down their back and their broken, hunched posture made my mouth feel dry. I started reaching out anyway before C.S. Lewis smacked my hand. “It’s not recommended. There will be others who will be more gracious in terms of talking to you.” 

I followed him, feeling meek as a rebuked child. We entered a new room that was completely barren, minus the souls existing there. Some of them were tearing at their hair and shrieking like banshees. Others were lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, half immersed in this squished mixture.

“What is happening here?” 

“Those who were addicted to their phone and neglected their growth as a person now have to live without it.” I took in a deep breath and exhaled, thinking of how my screen time on my phone had steadily increased over the past decade. A deep sense of guilt and shame struck into my very core, my former prideful thoughts coming to mock me. I am exactly like them. 

“What are you doing here?” A voice came from below me. “You’re not like them.” 

“I’m-” It seemed imprudent to give my actual name as I looked down at a damned soul lying face upward in the gloppy muck. “-a pilgrim.” I finished. “This is my guide.” 

The soul scowled. “They’re just letting anyone in here now, aren’t they, walk around as if they own the place. This is not very swag of them.”

“I have my orders from heaven, if that does not satisfy you, take it up with management, not with us,” C.S. ordered in a very firm tone. “What’s your name?” 

“I am James Charles. I am here because I spent every moment of my conscious life behind a screen, whether it was a TV, a smartphone, or a computer. I was a content creator for YouTube and TikTok.”

“It seems absurd.” I cried out. “To punish someone for being dependent on technology as we are. Our work uses screens, our recreational time uses screens, it doesn’t make sense to punish people for using tools.” 

“Not their usage, but their abuse.” C.S. corrected me. “Charles, how much screen time did you get again.” 

“My screen time was over 22 hours a day. I took little sleep or food except what was needed to keep me going back”

“That doesn’t sound like a sin-” I cut in, still stubborn, my personal shame rising ever higher while feeling my gut sink lower. 

“I used the internet to get to other people.” James continued. “I manipulated others into believing that I was correct and a god while behind the camera while using the internet to… hurt others. Particularly the children.” His face beamed with unrepentance. “They were so deliciously young-” Disgust choked me and I turned back to hide and swallow the rising bile in my throat. I had seen the news articles, about how the internet had turned on this man when the scandals had erupted. His consequential suicide had been in the news for about a week, with more and more details of victims' stories emerging to only add to the horror. 

I’m not like him. I’m better than- I stopped myself in my tracks. No. He’s a human who made bad choices with technology. I am also making bad choices with tech-

I clutched C.S.’s arm. “Please. I’ve learned my lesson - take me home, I’ll do better, I swear.” 

“You have not seen all that is to come,” was the not-comforting reply. “But come with me, and we shall embark on this journey together. And have hope, there are still good things left to see.” 

The end. For now. (Maybe might update with further circles cuz I have other ideas but that's all I "need" for the assignment.

[cawthorntales]

Grayson: Hazel!

Hazel: What is it? Something up?

Grayson: I got kissed! My first ever! It finally happened.

Hazel: That's amazing Gray! When?

Grayson: It happened a few days ago. I tried calling you the night it happened, but got no answer.

Hazel: Yeah sorry. Had a minor feud situation I had to help solve. Who was it?

Grayson: Clive:

Hazel: The same one who hugged you?

Grayson: Yep.

Hazel: Sounds like he has the hots for you.

Grayson: He's been distant since it happened though.

Hazel: Maybe he is just processing his feelings?

~

Because Clive was Grayson's first kiss, he unlocked another bonus scene. This one. @akitasimblr

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 40 - Mirror, Mirror

Astarion goes fishing (and not for fish).

On AO3.

Y’all coulda made it back by nightfall, now that y’all know where you’re going. But both Wyll and Gale agree that arriving after a whole day of hiking is a bad strategy (to the disappointment of Karlach and the disgust of Lae’zel). So y’all stop about an hour away—close enough y’all can be rested when you get there, but not so close a patrol might trip over somebody’s tent.

Gale has a spare canvas, nobody has spare poles or stakes; Karlach solves that problem by sauntering to the edge of the trees and ripping three saplings out of the ground to whittle into poles with that bigass ax.

She drives them into the ground and does not use a hammer.

You ain’t the only one watching this with a little too much interest.

big lady your brain chants.

She carries a regular pack, from which she pulls out a blanket that smells vaguely like vasoline, and a raggedy teddy bear she introduces as Clive. The bear is singed around the edges, and seems nearly shellacked in the not-vasoline stuff on the blanket. Some kinda fire-resistant salve she says.

She’s careful not to touch nobody, or even get too close. You watch this, lips pressed tight, chest hurting for her.

Dinner is, once again, bread and cheese and wine. No fire so close to the tollhouse. Karlach strikes up a conversation with Lae’zel about the best way to twist somebody’s head off, while Shadowheart watches over the rim of her goblet.

Gale, without much to do in the way of a cook fire, plops down outside his tent with a book, several scrolls, and an ink pot to start scratching away. Meanwhile, Wyll volunteers to go on patrol—make sure y’all really are out of fake paladin range—and set up some snares. You can’t tell if he’s upset with y’all’s decision to let Karlach join, or if he don’t like her around, or if it’s some secret third thing that’s got him so tense. He’s seemed like a real good dude—though everybody has shit takes on something.

The sun sinks low and the light goes gray as evening deepens. Lae’zel actually takes a night off from breaking your ass (either distracted by Karlach, or deciding that leaving you like, rested, increases your chances of not fucking anything up tomorrow).

Which leaves you just…hanging out. For the first time, you have the mental and physical energy to stay awake, but you have no phone, no internet, no books or movies or anything to fiddle with. Maybe you could work on that strip of linen Astarion “gifted” you. But then he’d see you doing it and start shit and besides, you got no clue how to sew.

You’re so busy trying to think up a way to be busy, that you notice the man skulk out of his tent. He’s got something shiny in his hand. He’s positioned his tent slightly facing away from the fire, tonight, which leaves it facing your tent more than usual. He’s not, like, hiding, but he’s not out in the open as he holds up what you realize is a mirror.

Huh. Lots of different cultures have vampire lore; you wonder if the mirror thing is accurate. You got nothing better to do, so you find yourself trailing over, coming up behind him.

“Looking at something?” he says. It’s addressed to you, even though he hasn’t glanced over.

“Saw me coming?” you say.

He stares a moment longer, before turning. There’s no sparkle to his eyes, tonight. His lips are a straight line. “The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn’t make up for a lack of reflection, mind you.”

Ah. That part of the lore is true, then. Ouch.

“Sorry to hear that,” you say. “You must miss it.”

And then you want to kick yourself over how stupid that sounds.

“Preening into the looking glass? Petty vanity?” he says all flamboyant. Until he deflates. Until you see what might be a flash of sadness in him. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You didn’t know about the eye color thing. None of the others are anywhere nearby; you wonder if that’s why he’s letting this show. He’s never made so much as a peep that wasn’t joke-flirting, complaining, stabby, or bored.

“What color were they before?” you say. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I—” he starts. Blinks a few times and there’s the barest shiver of, dare you call it, vulnerability in his face. “I don’t know. I can’t…remember.”

He stares out at nothing for a pause. Don’t got the presence of mind to slip the smarmy mask back on. It’s like he…like he just realized that. Doesn’t remember his own eyes.

Then his face shutters. Tight-lipped anger slips down and buries all traces of confused horror. He chucks the mirror to smash on the ground.

You try not to wince even as you take a step back.

“My face is just another dark shape in my past,” he says. Looks away. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can forget some details about your own face, sometimes. You don’t generally wear makeup (never learned, and then when you could, that shit is expensive), and your hair mostly sorts itself out when you comb conditioner through it in the shower. So you don’t see your reflection every day (the ladies room at the office don’t have a mirror—used to be a closet until the seventies or eighties when they converted it).

But you know your eyes are dark brown the way you know your own name. It’s just a fact about you. You can’t imagine what it would take to just…lose that.

“How long you been a vampire?” you say.

His gaze flits around a second. “About two hundred years, give or take. Things start to run together a little.”

Two…two hundred years? Under that fuckface? Without ever being able to see himself?

Holy fucking shit.

Holy fucking shit.

And yet, he’s standing here, traveling with all y’all, acting…well, not normal. But he ain’t catatonic. He’s only killed people when y’all were fighting already, and he only tried to bite you the once (without asking). He’s talking to you, and he makes jokes and…

And he said you were his first “thinking creature” blood.

In two hundred fucking years.

The kind of strength it would take to scrape himself together and hold in there…even if it was barely. Even if he wasn’t all there. You’d known that shit for over a decade. But two hundred motherfucking years.

You been staring. He notices, and turns to you. “What?”

The man teases you. Steals from goddamn refugees (he has got to stop that). And he hasn’t seen his face in two centuries. You can maybe afford to make a fool of yourself if the idea blooming in your brain makes a fool outta yourself.

“I can be your mirror,” you say, your neck heating up, trying not to squirm. “You don’t have to. Or I don’t have to. If I made this weird, that is. I can, uh, leave.”

His eyebrows twitch down into a micro frown. He stands there a hot second, sucks in a breath through his nose. His mask is slipping again, and the man underneath…

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” he says. “What, well, what you see.”

Slight emphasis on the “you” that you ain’t gonna read too much into.

A long face. Thick brows. A strong, straight nose. Thick lips, pointy chin, and floofy, white hair.

You ain’t never really described somebody in detail. Not like this, and not to their face directly. You ain’t a poet or an artist. This was probably a really bad idea.

“Your face is very, uh, symmetrical,” you say.

He pauses a moment, before drawing back. “Oh darling, you’re terrible at this.”

Fuck you, too!

“Well, I mean, it’s the most noticeable thing aside from the granny hair.”

And now he fucking recoils.

“What? I have the best hair in camp. If this is your idea of a joke—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” you say. It’s only kinda a lie. It’s granny hair, no two ways about it. “Your hair is very shiny and it looks real soft. The rest of you” —you wave your hand vaguely around— “looks good.”

“Really?” His usual smirk slips back on and he damn near purrs. Then he lifts his hands and gives a slow, little runway spin. “Anything in particular?”

Jesus lord. Man’s moods turn on a fucking dime and he cannot stop being a prima diva.

You think. What would you want to know about your own face? You got no idea how elves age or how old he was when he got bit. He looks young, in the dim light, but there’s an age to him, a smattering of fine lines at the corners of his eyes that you started noticing on yourself recently. You ain’t gonna mention how gaunt his cheeks are, even if they do make the bones stand out all high fashion or whatever. It ain’t a healthy look (any time anybody mentions native cheekbones, you have to bite back the little historical fact that a lot of those photos was of starving natives, of course their cheekbones stood out like that, their food sources were butchered, burned, or a thousand miles away after a forced march).

You’re gonna ask in the morning if Wyll can bring back what his snares catch before he field-dresses them, and ask Astarion if he wants the blood. Man needs to eat more often. Put some goddamn flesh on them bones (oh god, you sound like your aunties).

“You got these eye creases when you smile,” you say.

But he does not take that as the compliment you mean.

“Excuse me?” he says like you just called his mama ugly. “I’m an eternally young vampire, forever beautiful.”

Forever corpse-y.

“It’s a good thing.”

“It sounds an awful lot, my dear, like you just called me old.”

“You just said you was at least two hundred.”

He gestures down to himself. “Vampire. Come on, darling, you can do better than this sorry excuse.”

And then the man has the audacity to fucking pose. Hand on his hip. Shoulders swaying like some old-timey, rich debutante.

“This whole thing is just you fishing for compliments, huh?” you say.

He looks at you like you’re the weird one. “Well of course it is. Now don’t leave me waiting.”

You ain’t sure if this entire cluster started as a sham, or if it just naturally devolved into one (he’s very good at the latter). His frustration had seemed genuine, though. He wouldn’t meet your gaze for a time. And you’re picking up on a pattern: obfuscation. He gets all fussy and theatric right around the time you notice (or he notices, maybe) he’s expressing something that ain’t flirt or murder.

You…kinda want to see what he’s trying to hide. What’s actually under that mask you caught a glimpse of.

In any case, it’s funner to play along right now, so you don’t got to think about the bullshit waiting tomorrow.

What would a vain peacock like him want to hear?

“Your eyes,” you say. “They’re real sharp, especially when you’re focused on something. I think people call that ‘piercing.’”

He rolls said eyes. “Acceptable. Finally. Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can end this travesty.”

And you can’t help yourself. “Well, Karlach is beautiful. You’re fine, though.”

The moment of truth. See if he’ll engage…

He gasps, but through a grin. Literally splays his fingers over his chest. “How dare you. I thought we had something special.”

Warmth flutters through you. You set the game down and he picked it up. He’s returning it. Holy shit, you went and established banter with a maybe-friend. It’s a damn good thing you got so much practice keeping your face blank.

He clucks his tongue. Nudges at you with his hip. “Still. You’re nice, too.”

Well that’s an overstatement. You are plain and plus sized, and it ain’t some false-modesty thing. If you ain’t in some colorful or flowery blouse, you can feel kids staring at the store. More than once you caught a, “Is that a boy or a girl” and a parent frantically shushing.

You’d always thought the boobs would be a giveaway (they ain’t subtle), but hey, baggy clothes.

Sailing too close to the rocky Shore of Truth. Time to veer back into the humor pool. You deadpan. “Oh good. The pretty boy thinks I’m acceptable. Now I won’t have to cry myself to sleep in shame.”

The smallest snort tears out of him. Seems to catch him off guard. But he quickly folds it under his mask and sighs. “I’d better go get some beauty sleep, darling. Seems like I need it if I’m to catch up with the competition.”

“You do that,” you say, letting a tiny grin crack your own stoic mask.

Which he returns.

Which is right when the ground in the middle of camp cracks open and some kinda hell goo burbles up, spinning in a vortex, before it bursts into flame. Out pops a winged demon lady with her tits half out.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[four-loose-screws]

FE2 Novelization Translation - Chapter 3 Part 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

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———————————

Chapter 3 - To Zofia Castle

Part 2  - The Night Before Storming Zofia Castle

"The castle really is everything it's said to be! I've heard the rumors, but I never imagined it would be this beautiful! The entire building was made with marble mixed with seashell plaster to harden it, allowing it to stand tall and sturdy throughout its long history. Doesn't it look just like a mountain range covered in snow?" Gray said as he looked at the breathtaking view of Zofia Castle from atop the fort watchtower. He was currently drawing a rough diagram of it on a piece of parchment. He was so blown away by how beautiful it was that he said his thoughts aloud to Tobin next to him, who was looking through his telescope and counting how many units were stationed within it.

"It's more like a white rose covered in thorns! Desaix's units are everywhere!" Tobin said, still looking through the telescope. 

Gray held out his brush, using it to measure the rough dimensions of the castle.

Upon retaking the southern fort and successfully rescuing Clair, Alm ordered Gray, Tobin, Kliff, and Silque to stay there. It was likely that Desaix would send more of his units once he realized that it had been captured, so in order to protect their new base, Alm left four of his units there.

"We'll be right back." Alm had said to them, then left with Lukas and Clair to go to the cave where Clive and the others were waiting. 

And so, the other four members of the Deliverance were now gathered together at the southern fort, and had to immediately start planning their attack on the castle.

"It has a moat and a castle wall, making it a perfect castle for defense. Because there's no opening that allows the army stationed inside to go on the offensive, once we break their defenses, it might as well be a sand castle. But getting to that point will be tricky." Gray said as he switched to a finer brush to write down the distance between different locations on his diagram. 

Tobin nudged his shoulder. 

When he turned around, Tobin was already looking through the telescope out the watchtower window, and down at the fort courtyard.

"What is it?" Gray asked.

Tobin did not respond with words, but pointed at something. 

There were two people in the embankment, where the enemy archer had stood. They were Kliff and Silque.

"Looks like they're having a good time!" Tobin commented.

"A very good time!" Gray responded with a grin on his face.

From this far away, they couldn't hear what the two were talking about, but their shoulders were touching, and they appeared to be talking very intimately, like two lovebirds spreading their wings and resting together.

-

 "Lukas!"

"Forsyth!"

Upon seeing his little sister's safe return after being prepared to receive news of her death, Clive's expression lit up with such joy that it looked as if he was going crazy. 

But Lukas and Forsyth might have been even happier upon their reunion.

They called each other out by name, then hugged hard as they could, and Forsyth unabashedly cried big, wet tears.

They were both Soldiers, and units of the same class generally have a stronger bond than those who are not. Meaning also that Clive's sadness over losing fellow Cavalier Mathilda must have been the reason why he could not truly celebrate his reunion with Clair.

"Where's Mathilda?" Lukas asked. 

Clive told him everything that happened. 

Knowing that it was her fault Mathilda ran off, all of the color drained from Clair's face. "I'm sorry, everyone. Especially to you, Brother. Please, forgive me." 

Mathilda was always very kind, and often encouraged Clair, who was timid due to her gentle nature. Clair thought of her like an older sister. She knew she felt that way because she was Clive's sister, and Mathilda was deeply in love with Clive. Clair knew that he also felt the exact same way about her.

Standing a slight distance away from everyone else as their excitement overflowed was the archer Python. From the moment Lukas returned, Python was wary of the young man he brought with him to the cave. In fact, he thought Clive and Forsyth were the weird ones, so easily able to open their hearts and share their joys and sadness in front of a guest when they had no idea who he was or where he came from.

Lukas explained everything, highlighting that he brought Alm with him because he was of Mycen's bloodline, and that he witnessed the strange experience Alm had at the remote Mila Shrine. But even after that, Python's feelings did not change. Python was a unit who valued hard facts most of all, and would not believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes, even if he had heard of it one hundred times before. It was set in stone that he would not consider Python his ally until Alm approached him directly and showed him Desaix's head.

"Let's trust what Lukas says for now." Python said. "And accept this boy's worth as someone of Sir Mycen's bloodline. If Mycen has fallen ill and sent Alm directly himself, then we should accept his aid. Alm also seems to be someone special who has received Mila's divine blessing. When I see his face, I can tell immediately that there is something mysterious about him. But right now, you're our leader, Clive. I want to hear what your plan is."

Clive's expression suddenly became serious. Python wasn't the only one asking him that question. It had to be the question on the minds of the other remaining members of the Knights of Zofia as well.

He said, "Lukas saw everything with his very own eyes, so it must all be true. I believe Alm is fit to be the Deliverance's general even just because of his strategy that retook the southern fort alone."

Python responded with the topic that concerned him most. "He might not feel obligated to save Mathilda."

"I don't think that's true." Clive answered without a moment's hesitation. However, that instant, clear reply only revealed how unsure he was. 

'Clive surely remembers what Mathilda said to him when she ran off. That he is unqualified to be leader.' Python thought. 'Even now, he might still have lost the determination needed to lead the Deliverance.'

Python growled. Until now, he'd never once felt that Clive, as their leader, would do something as unsightly as show weakness in front of everyone. If that were still the case, Python probably would have immediately accepted Alm without any worries weighing on his mind. 

Python, as his friend, remembered how much pain Clive was in right now. The Knights of Zofia were not built on the ideal that combat strength and ability was everything. Power and strength bring people to trust each other, but trust alone was not the reason why they could put their lives in each other's hands. Their bonds were stronger than trust - almost as close as family.

'Time might be able to heal Clive's wounds.' Python thought, and decided to accept Alm as their general for the time being. Still, that did not mean that he approved of him one hundred percent, and so he started to interrogate Alm, partially as a means to convey his feelings to the others.

"There's just one thing I want to confirm." Python said. "What is your opinion of Emperor Rudolf of the Rigel Empire?"

"I've heard that he is a naturally gifted leader, and that he is both kind to and popular with the people. However, he is Zofia's greatest fear. He must be removed from power." Alm said without even a hint of hesitation. 

Python continued, "How must his power be taken from him? Through an alliance with another country?"

"Achieving a balance of power is an illusion. Judging by the current relationship between Zofia and Rigel, an alliance would clearly be meaningless. History has proven that to be true."

"Then shall power be taken from him through a treaty?"

"Treaties are relative. They change based on the current era. As I said, Rudolf is Zofia's greatest fear." Alm stated once again, and looked directly into Python's eyes. "Rudolf must be killed. That is my ultimate goal. Killing Desaix and liberating Zofia is the first step towards achieving that goal."

"Then we are of the exact same opinion. I will serve you." Python said, took Alm's hand, and kissed it. The gesture was how the Knights of Zofia swore their fealty to their lord.

-

The run-down assembly hall in the western fort was turned into a temporary strategy meeting room, and all the members of the Deliverance, excluding Mathilda, gathered around the small light of a lanturn. Upon seeing Gray and Clive's horses nuzzle each other the moment they met, everyone naturally felt as if they were all destined to meet each other.

They were currently in the middle of a strategy meeting, planning their attack on the castle. Everyone helped to place a piece of the fort's door, which Alm had smashed during their siege, on top of a rock, and roll out Gray's diagram of Zofia Castle on top of that. 

"Your diagram is amazing! It has details that even we didn't know about!" Gasped Forsyth, normally one to make calm and collected decisions even in the heat of battle, in astonishment as he looked it over. It was now complete with Tobin's analysis and predictions for the army's battle stations.

"I'm shocked that such talent was hidden in a remote village! They're all going to be a huge help to us!" Lukas said and slapped his hand on Forsyth's shoulder. 

Gray, Tobin, Kliff, and Silque all heard what he said and all looked at each other while scoffing, remembering that Lukas had argued against taking them along until the last second.

"Zofia Castle was built for defense. That is why Rigel makes fun of it and says it's like a castle made out of toy blocks." Python said.

The conversation naturally gravitated towards Alm and Clive trading ideas back and forth to develop their battle strategy, but Python, as the member among them quickest to anger, interjected every chance he got. Their forces were all very strong, but when they compared themselves to Desaix's army, they were vastly outnumbered. Python served a role akin to the person stirring the fire as they perfected their strategy that they had to construct with extreme caution, making the others in the group resent him from time to time.

"The moat has two bridges over it, and the castle wall has two gates. But if we can break through that far, then we have a chance." Clive said, and proposed to split up into two groups. 

Clive and Python would take the east bridge, with Forsyth in the middle. The western bridge would also utilize the same Cavalier-Soldier-Archer formation with Gray, Tobin, and Lukas. That choice was the most logical, and no one objected to it.

After finalizing that decision, Clive said to Clair, "You can fly over the castle wall, right?"

"Of course! It was the training grounds for me and my pegasus!"

Though it was being used as Desaix's base, Zofia's Castle was like a home to the Knights of Zofia. Clive and Clair's interaction made Alm and the others realize the suffering the surviving members experienced by being chased out of the castle.

"The gate does not open from the outside. You are the only one of us that can do it. You understand how important this role is, right?"

Clair nodded deeply at her brother's words. 

Looking at Gray's diagram, there were three archers guarding the castle gate. Their arrows could easily reach a flying pegasus, and Clair would be flying straight towards them. Their biggest gamble all rested on this part of the strategy. Whether or not they entered the castle depended entirely on if Clair could open the gate from the inside. In other words, everything hinged on whether she lived or died.

"This is our momentous first battle as the Deliverance! We shall call our strategy, 'Clair's Wings!'" Alm said. 

Clair stared straight at him. Underneath her bright blue, thick bangs, there was a faint light in her eyes that might have been tears.

"Where should we position Silque?" Alm asked. The position of healer units had a close effect on the tide of battle.

"The five of us remaining from the Knights of Zofia could march through the castle with our eyes closed. Let's put her behind our allies from Ram Village first. We'll be fine until we reconvene, and just use Vulneraries on our wounds."

Clive handed down his decision without hesitation, then on the diagram on the west bridge, which Gray and his group was responsible for, wrote down her name, "Shilk."

"I will go ahead of Clive." Alm said.

"When Clair opens the gate, I will immediately rush inside to be her reinforcement. Everyone else should continually assess the current state of battle, and proceed with caution. Once the gate is open, both the east and west groups should focus on reconvening. The two Cavaliers will be the vanguard with the Archers in the middle, and the Soldiers will guard the rear. The Cavaliers and Soldiers should put more effort into defense than offense, and the archers should prioritize offense. My only target will be Desaix, and I will charge directly into the castle. Clair will fly ahead and report to me the foes I will need to face. Even if I am injured, I will not hesitate. I will focus solely on locating Desaix until I find him."

As Alm explained his strategy, both Clive and Python were rather impressed, but Alm did not think it was that impressive. He simply decided it sufficient to expand on the scope of the strategies he would plan while defending Ram Village from Brigands; and saw finer details the Knights of Zofia did not notice, as he had more real combat experience.

He next addressed Kliff directly. "You will protect Silque. Do not hold back. Whether you need to use fire or lightning, you must strike down any foe that comes near her. This is a very important assignment. You'll be able to get all the rest you need after the battle. Do not let up your spells until you have defeated every last enemy."

"I've known to do just that since long before you told me to." Kliff said, and held out his fist towards her. 

His dependable words and tone made her face turn red as she bumped his fist back, a gesture Gray and Tobin would never miss. They both looked at each other and whistled.

The scene made Clive chuckle as he wrote down Kliff's name as "Klih" next to "Shilk."

Kliff noticed the spelling and clarified, "You're a little off. It's K-L-I-H-S. There's an S at the end."

"That's an unusual way of spelling it." Lukas said.

"That's how my mother spelled it. She's from the countryside."

"Yeah, must be a countryside thing." Lukas said, and everyone laughed, the cheer in their voices relieving the strategy room of the tension it has been filled with since they started to decide their tactics for the next morning's battle.

-

With their strategy complete and perfected, they all entered their makeshift beds early, but could not sleep with the day ahead of them that would decide their fates. Forced to wait until the next morning to act, each member of the Deliverance spent the night unable to sleep for their own reasons.

Clive thought about Matilda. She might already be gone. Since there was no sign of her her at the western fort where Clair was being held hostage, it was logical to think that she might have been killed by Desaix's army here several days ago. 'But now is not the time to be overcome by grief! Tomorrow we will liberate Zofia Castle, and make our teacher's dying wish a reality!' Clive thought, and shut his eyes tight.

Lukas and Forsyth decided that if they could not sleep, they might as well practice sparring together, and went outside.

Python spread his arrows out across his bed and polished them with oil. Gray and Tobin, perhaps because they were from a remote rural town and did not mind their manners so much, talked all about how cute Clair was, despite only having just met her today. Gray proposed to make the battle tomorrow a competition, and whoever lost would have to graciously give up pursuing her to the other. Tobin accepted the bet, then responded by saying, "Clair is mine!!"

Clair herself, meanwhile, was in her bed in a separate room from the men, thinking about Alm. His skill with his sword that he displayed atop the watchtower… His regality as a general despite his young age… The kindness of his heart, that he would name their strategy after her, a soldier beneath his rank… Silque said that he was the person who would rule over all of Valentia. Clair saw him as an ideal person.

If anyone had looked at it, they would have realized Kliff's bed was empty. After everyone went to lay down, he continued to stare into the strategy room, still lit in the bright lamp light, from the shadows.

"Even with such a significant difference between our numbers and Desaix's, the actions a healer unit takes are more important than offense." Alm said before continuing to give Silque his carefully detailed briefing to her. 

While Kliff of course felt nervous before their decisive battle, he also could not sleep because he felt uneasy about Alm and Silque being alone together. Alm spoke softly, but his words still reached Kliff's ears.

"I've assigned Kliff to be your guard, but sometimes his kindness can backfire. You might think of me as insecure for doing this, but I have requested Forsyth to be a second guard for you as well. You have no reason to worry."

At his current strength, Kliff had no other choice than to realize Alm was right. He watched Silque nod in response, and bit his lip.

But what Kliff was worried about was not the idea that Alm did not really trust him to be able to do the job. He was afraid that Silque would reveal the secret of Alm's fate directly to Alm. Until the tragedy completely played itself out, even Alm himself should know nothing. His tragedy was to be the sacrifice made in exchange for world peace and stability, and was directly connected to Mila, Duma, and Valentia's fates. 

'His secret will move the gods, meaning…' That was as far as Kliff's thoughts got before the lantern went out. He hurried to his bed so that they would not see him.

[caramelcoeur]

General Heart Fragment Headcanons (pt. 1)

Because it's still occupying my mind. Also spoilers for Book 1 and Book 2!!

Natalia is THAT girl. She takes care of herself. She has a full skincare routine she carries out every week.

She once offered Teryl one of those shiny, silver face masks

He accepted it. And then asked for another one. And another one.

Cue Clive entering the shack. Two long-haired men with silver faces greet him. He doesn’t remember much about what happened after that.

Shannon has some beef with some bigger bakery corporations (because she’s just BETTER.)

No joke, they sent her a cease and desist email to literally stop handing out free pastries (she made herself) because people stopped purchasing from their stores during that period of time

Jasper sometimes uses the nickname ‘Lia’ for Natalia

Xani is kind of fluent in Spanish

Gray has his own StarxSocial account that Xani helped set up

He doesn’t post a lot on there, he mainly uses it for keeping up with news and… pop culture - in order to try and connect with Xani because god knows what the youth of the time are interested in

From time to time, he will get logged out and will have to ask his daughter how to log back in 

“Girl. What’s my password.”

“Sigh. It’s Learntowritedownyourpassword. And both of our birth years.”

“…doesn’t work.” “I didn’t mean it literally!!”

As a result of his mutation, Jasper actually has (retractable) wolf-like fangs! No, he’s not a vampire. No, he won’t bite you to suck your blood. (Although I’m sure a lot of you would loooove that)

Like the rest of his (presumed) powers, he refuses to use his fangs. Though, they may come out simultaneously when his eyes switch colour

Clive has the most horrendous experiences whenever a barista attempts to write his name on a cup

Sometimes he’ll just blurt out a random name that is nowhere close to his out of panic and when his coffee is completed he’ll just be sat there wondering

“Who’s Jonathan and why is he not collecting his coffee what a weirdo"

“……………….wait I’M Jonathan-“

Xani once witnessed Lana mix her own coffee by also dumping a whole energy drink into it

“I am going to die.” And then she chugged the whole thing

Shannon has gossip sessions with Kay.

They are genuinely both nice, caring and drama-free individuals but sometimes they'll hear about the stuff happening around them and be like, "omg we have to talk about this"

Lana may have fallen for her boyfriend first, but he fell way harder 

She got Inigo hyperventilating, giggling, blushing and kicking his blankets!!!

His sketchbooks quickly fill up with images of her and her flowing blue hair (I swear I will draw these two prompts someday. SOMEDAY)

Natalia is quite OP at video games, despite initially not having much experience?

"Teryl, you hand me over that controller right now because I swear I will burst a vein if you spend 20 more seconds on this level struggling"

If the group ever go out in public together, she's in charge of co-ordinating their outfits if she is not satisfied because she knows her fashion 💅

But there will be times where she accidentally matches with Jasper??? Which is completely unintentional?

Natalia is forever a victim to Teryl

"is that my shirt." "sorry sweetie can't help the fact it looks better on me"

Her nails are sharp like a cat <3

[braveryhearted]

Boyfriend / Husband Material

( some of these are subjective )

100 percent:

Tamaki Suoh Tenya Iida Johnathan Joestar Yuuki Sohma Death the Kid Gintoki Sakata ( lol but I have my reasons ) Shigeo / Mob Kageyama Izumi Miyamura Kaien Shiba Asta Zen Wisteria Noctis Lucis Caelum Clive Rosfield Alcryst Diamant Ephraim Akihiko Sanada Aogami Jude Mathis Alphen Law Ethan Winters Haseo ( lol ) Link ( Twilight Princess ) Rin Okumura

Needs work but can improve:

L Lawliet / Ryugazaki Kyon Kyoya Ootori Tamaki Amajiki Diego Brando ( I mean he canonically married someone lol ) Rei Ryugazaki Lau Ronald Knox Ling Yao Edward Elric Roy Mustang Hijikata Toshiro Reigen Arataka ( lol ) Ritsu Kageyama Zelgadiss Greywords Ren Tsugura Langa Hasegawa Tadashi Kikuchi Byakuya Kuchiki Barnaby Brooks Jr. Ryan Goldsmith / Golden Ryan Gray Fullbuster Jellal Fernandez Heiji Hattori Saguru Hakuba Vash ( Saverem ) Stampede Itachi Uchiha Abel Knightlord Ion Fortuna Kento Nanami Synchro Control Suzaku Kururugi Zidane Cidolfus Telamon Ferdinand von Aegir Gregory Phoenix Wright Simon Blackquill Toshiro Kasukabe Dante Sparda Nero de Angelo Rindo Kanade Hishima Sakazuki Leon Kennedy Ovan Astarion Ancunín Mike Schmitt

No chance in hell / Run:

Light Yagami Jotaro Kujo ( sorry Jotaro but yeah you are here ) Sebastian Michaelis Sougo Okita Kamui Takasugi Shinsuke Xelloss Reino Ainosuke Shindo / Adam Knives Millions Cain Knightlord Satoru Gojo ( lol ) Suguru Geto ( lol ) Lelouch vi Britannia / Zero Sephiroth Vincent Valentine ( lol ) Niles / Zero Griss Sho Minazuki Tohru Adachi Byakuya Togami V & Vergil Sparda Sho Minamimoto Karl Heisenburg Albert Wesker

[crabknight]

AFTER THE FIGHT,

HI GUYS HOW WAS THE SHOW???????

I see you guys enjoyed it! Do you want me to implement some audience participation next time? :3

YES WE DID! He is very :o right now - @beantothemax

HES SO HAPPYYYYYYYY The boy is joyous!!!!! -Bean

Alm:

I want a tbh creature with alm's style. It would fit so much...

Mission failed, we'll get 'em next time

DID YOU JUST MAKE A POOP JOKE???? Gray still upholding the honorable title of "Funniest Guy in Ram Village" even when hes not there

Guessing we're gonna smash cut to Celica after this while The Boys are Celebrating?

Clive stop it sounds like Alm works for Doordash THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU NEED AN ENTIRE ARMY TO DELIVER YOUR ORDER

I have bad news buddy, sorry to say. -Bean

Yay! Next up: Celica time(?)

Doordasher alm coming to YOUR house RIGHT NOW with a borrito

also YIPPEE GOOD JOB

[thenorthernrecords]

Brennen arrived in Nightfall around dusk. He felt somewhat somber as he stepped off the boat that had taken him there, unable to feel sorry for his late, traitorous thieving companion Clive. All the young man wanted to do was gain his father’s forgiveness and go home. It was the shame Clive never gave Brennen his family’s name. Brennen would’ve informed his father of his passing, although he doubted a man who would throw out his own son on the street would care...

As he walked into the town, he noticed that the town was rather quiet. Sure, quite a number of people walked up and down the streets, but everyone seemed on edge. The people would constantly and anxiously peer at the sky as if they were expecting something to fall on them. They muttered to each other in hushed tones, their faces seemingly etched with anxiety and fear. Brennen suddenly had a bad feeling, and he approached an older man with graying hair who was lowly speaking to two more older men.

“Excuse me, sir.” Brennen greeted, nodding as the man and his companions regarded him. “I just got into town and I kept help but notice that everyone seems to be afraid of something... can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Oh, you arrived at a terrible time, young man.” The old man grumbled, his companions nodding along in agreement. “There has been an attack close to our town, right in the woods.”

The man pointed towards the north and that’s when Brennen could make out a dark pillar of smoke rising from the sky. 

“An army?” asked Brennen.

The man said, leaning in to whisper to Brennen. “People are saying it was a terrible beast...a beast as big as a sailing ship.” 

Brennen’s brows furrowed, now concerned about what he just stumbled into. He already suspected a certain person who could turn into a beast... the same person whose estate was blown up to pieces.

“What sort of beast?” He asked.

The old man frowned. “I’m not sure. I was indoors when it all happened, with my friends here. You’ll have to ask someone at the tavern. No doubt everyone’s talking about it there.”

Brennen thanked the man and his friends and headed towards the tavern. The feeling of dread had now increased and while he wanted to let Ashlynn know what was going on, he couldn’t. There was still a few days left before he could use the speaking stone. Perhaps the woman Morgan, the person he was supposed to meet, knew what had happened. 

He could only hope.

@caspianmaxson

[ghostcaterwaul]

Overview of My OCs

Putting this under a read more thing because it’s… pretty long even though it’s not even their full bios.

Btw, I'm aware that some of the faceclaims are problematic people, I chose those faceclaims without knowing they were problematic but that's just... How those characters permanently look in my head now so I'm really sorry if some of my faceclaim choices bother people but I'm not likely to change them.

A Chaotic Love (Working Title)

Mallory Blythe A sheltered 18-year-old with a strict religious upbringing. Jeremy’s love interest.

Jeremy Wolfe Typical damaged bad boy with a dark past from the wrong side of town. Mallory’s love interest.

Suburban Secrets (Working Title)

Lieselotte “Lottie” Moon Impulsive and arrogant teenager. “Not like other girls”.

Heloise Moon Lottie’s younger sister. Super smart. In all AP courses.

Devyn and the Roses (Working Title)

Devyn Valentyne Electro-glam punk vocalist and guitarist. Levi’s love interest.

Levi Rose Glam goth Bassist. Devyn’s love interest.

Natalie Rose Goth girl. Keyboards/synths/drum machine. Levi’s sister. Is super possessive of him.

Untitled Occult Detective Series

Elliot Alexander Non-binary punk sci-fi nerd. Saw a UFO when he was 12. Wesley’s significant other.

Wesley Williams Indie emo hipster hacker. Sees dead things. Caffeine addict. Elliot’s boyfriend.

The 100 OCs

Misty Sawyer One of the 100. Arrested for attacking her abusive father. Sweet soft fragile bean. Has Classical-Like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Has AUs for multiple fandoms. (Faceclaim: Katie Jane Garside [in the 90s])

Liam Thorne Misty’s best friend. One of the 100. Arrested for helping her hide after she attacked her father. The therapist friend. Has a Z Nation AU and a Stranger Things AU. (Faceclaim: Landon Liboiron)

Elijah Stone One of the 100. Arrested for vandalism. Rebellious, hyper, a bit chaotic. Has AUs for multiple fandoms. (Faceclaim: Dominic Harrison AKA Yungblud)

Nimue kom Floukru Born Storm kom Azgeda. Was too soft and precious for the Ice Nation. led to join Floukru and changed her name to Nimue as a way of running from her past. Became a healer after joining Floukru. (Faceclaim: Lily Rabe)

Z Nation OCs

Vixen Ran away as a teen before the apocalypse. Did some illegal stuff to survive like selling drugs and firearms with an abusive boyfriend. Also has done survival sex work. She was working as a stripper when the apocalypse hit. (Faceclaim: Kaya Scodelario)

Riot O’Reilly Grew up with an artist for a mom and a biker for a dad. Dad died in a motorcycle accident when they were 5 years old. was the singer in a touring DIY queerpunk band called Rotten Rainbow Warhead Dolls From Planet 420 and was playing a show when the apocalypse hit. Dyes their hair as often as they can with whatever they can find (even if it’s not exactly hair safe, has even used sharpie ink) to maintain a sense of normalcy. (Faceclaim: Bex Taylor-Klaus)

VTM PCs

Izzy Strange A Malkavian glitter punk vocalist with BPD and substance addiction.

Sybil Kross A Malkavian artist with PTSD and abandonment issues. (Faceclaim: Kimberly Freeman)

Multifandom OCs

Jet Gray Goth boy. Videographer. (Faceclaim: Kett Turton [as Clive Webb in Gypsy 83])

Olivia “Olly” Gray Jet’s younger sister. Goth girl. Plays guitar. (Faceclaim: Heather Baron-Gracie)

Leo Anderson A survivor of institutional abuse. drug dealer. Sings and plays guitar. Lives out of his car and often couch surfs. (Faceclaim: Colson Baker AKA Machine Gun Kelly [as Wes in Roadies. If you can find me a faceclaim with that exact hair and MGK's jawline, I might change this faceclaim tbh because I cannot stand MGK now. I've learned too much.])

Emily Walsh Musician. Had to play marriage counselor for her parents from a very young age. (Faceclaim: Tessa Violet [specifically with pink hair])

Other Fandom OCs

Ophelia Power Rangers in Space OC. Purple ranger. Space sorceress born on planet Xoia. Has an otherworldly feline creature from her home planet as a pet named Indigo. (Faceclaim: Sóley Sigurþórs)

Deirdre Doyle The Originals OC. Witch. Lots of trauma. (Faceclaim: Kat Dennings)

Other OCs

Adelaide St. Claire Louisiana Creole trans woman living in New Orleans. Voodoo practitioner. (I’m currently researching everything to do with Voodoo and plan on hiring a sensitivity reader for whichever work I include her in. I promise I won’t fuck it up!)

Astrid Shelley Old lonely widowed witch that lives in the woods on the edge of town. Agoraphobic. Has a familiar, a black vulture named Edgar. (Faceclaim: Anna-Varney Cantodea)

Luca Giger 400 year old vampire. Was sex trafficked at the age of 12, is now voluntarily a full-service sex worker. Was bitten at 20 years old by a client. (Faceclaim: Bartek Borowiec)

Arthur Julius “AJ” Montgomery III Dark academia OC. Artist, writer, musician, stoner. (Faceclaim: Timothee Chalamet)

Stitches the Carnie Ghoul (CW: Horror OC. Proceed with caution) Murderous people-devouring necrophiliac. Keeps some of her victims’ corpses as dolls that she has tea parties with inside her circus tent. (Faceclaim: Peggy Giggles)

Jezebel Bathory A succubus. (Faceclaim: Rose McGowan)

Gwendolyn Lightweaver An angel turned human as a punishment. (Faceclaim: Katherine Shepard AKA Sylvaine)

Ozraphaeus “Ozzy” Embershroud A demon with a pet hellhound named Mordred. (Faceclaim: Ville Valo)

Willa Meadowsong Faerie OC. Seelie court (Faceclaim: Tori Amos)

Gossamer Greywood Faerie OC. Unseelie court. (Faceclaim: Xilmordas)

Alice Hansen An artist, writer and multi-instrumentalist who struggles with undiagnosed mental illnesses and substance abuse. (Faceclaim: Holly Henry)

[sarcastic-salem]

If you’re into the whole natural aging that’s fine. I agree that no one should have to spend their whole life constantly preening and covering themselves up in 10lbs of makeup. If they don’t want to. You’re allowed to grow your hair heart long and snarled and gray, you’re allowed to free the titties — seriously, I do that a lot. No bras or binders if I’m at home.

You could even go live in a dirt hut in the middle of the Smokey Mountains and have a mud bath.

If you want to.

But here’s the thing some people enjoy makeup. That doesn’t mean they wear it every day or reconstruct their face like a mask with contouring. As far as I’m concerned, those people are extremists. With probably very bad self-esteem issues.

So maybe you oughta work on building people up a bit instead of dictating their appearance, yeah?

Some people enjoy being sexualized and that includes men, women, and enbies.

And ffs do not turn this into a conversation about how problematic the character Harley Quinn is. Because she isn’t. Saying otherwise only goes to show that

You missed the entire point of Birds Of Prey and her origin story. BoP has a stronger feminist message than Captain Marvel. That message is that women should build each other up in order to take down the patriarchy. Which is why it has a reputation as “misandrist trash” among the incels.

You haven’t picked up a comic book or tuned into a Batman animated film in about 10 years. Harley is an ANTIHERO with her own set of ethically grey morals. She has been problematic in the past but she has also —

-Owned an animal shelter

-Worked as a psychiatrist while working to overcome her own mental illness

-Placed her daughter, Lucy, in her sister’s care so that the Joker would have no access to her

-Stopped the Joker from blowing up a fucking orphanage

She’s even an honorary member of the Batfam because she has helped them solve crimes. And annoyed the shit outta them in the process.

Why, because Bruce Wayne — a man who has gotten two of his children killed and doesn’t believe in therapy — has a better sense of empathy, and a better understanding of the psychological ramifications of domestic abuse, manipulation tactics, and cult brainwashing headgames than anyone

Who guilt trips people for wearing the clothing & makeup that they want to wear

And I am not intentionally sexualizing mental illness in anyone. My point is only that

The character Harley Quinn enjoys being sexualized.

Yeah, I know Margot Robbie did not enjoy it as much and that is why she was an executive producer on Birds Of Prey, and if you watch the movie you will see that Harley is a lot more covered up in BoP than in Suicide Squad 2016. In fact, one of the complaints mostly commonly mentioned in the hateful reviews for the film is that “Harley wasn’t hot enough anymore.” My own step-father said that when we walked out of the cinema, and I had to stop myself from smacking him.

Sadly, dressing in uncomfortable outfits often comes hand-in-hand with acting gigs and I think that all actors should have more say over their character wardrobes. Hollywood, however, tends disagree.

And if anyone has any objections to Pinhead’s presence, I seriously suggest you pick up a copy of Clive Barker’s Hellbound Heart.

Seriously, though, why do you think poledancing classes exist?

Do you think there are no strippers or models anywhere on this earth that don’t enjoy their work? Seriously?

Like I said, you can be into the natural aging thing.

But the second you start shaming people who aren’t into it, you become an asshole👌🏻

Sorry about the monster long essay about Harley Quinn — absolutely not the point of this post. But the second I list her as a feminist role model, my inbox gets fucking flooded with TERFy radfem bullshit.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: The Rules of Magic

[unicorn fuck club] Brandon Sanderson: so I’ve got a story Sanderson: I call it the tale of cosmere universe Sanderson: it’s kind of long, so you should all probably go to the bathroom first

Sanderson: so here’s what you have to know about the cosmere universe Sanderson: it’s got a hard magic system Sanderson: you have to spend 8 points of manna to cast magic missile Sanderson: but only if you get +2 on your saving dexterity roll Sanderson: and if there’s a level 3 cleric or above in your party, they can roll to assist Alan Moore: [appearing in a flash of thunder] greetings mortals Sanderson: um excuse me sir Sanderson: you cannot just appear like that Sanderson: by the rules of magic, you have to first roll a +8 in spell casting OR shadow weaving Moore: foolish imp, my magic cannot be contained! Moore: your earthly laws cannot bind my powers Moore: for magic knows no rules Moore: only vibes  

Sanderson: UM Sanderson: that’s NOT the way it works Sanderson: there are RULES, you know Sanderson: three of them Clive Barker: damn I’m surprised you had time to come up with three whole rules what with all those doorstoppers you write Sanderson: well there was going to be a fourth but I ran out of time Sanderson: Sanderson: why are you Barker: yeah I’m here sometimes Barker: I wrote abarat, that counts Sanderson: the cosmere universe has 8 realms: sun, moon, flesh, ether, dirt, water, fire, heart Sanderson: and each realm has 12 singularities, called perpetuities Sanderson: each of those perpetuities are endowed with the essence of the create-o-sphere Sanderson: that’s the cosmic pangea that split to make the 4 orbs of knowing Sanderson: see, what you have to understand in that the universe has chaos AND order Sanderson: like, balances of them

Sanderson: also another important thing Sanderson: whenever anyone feels an emotion, like a little sprite representing that emotion appears and dances around for a bit Sanderson: but don’t worry Sanderson: you don’t need to know any of that to understand the story Barker: wow that’s interesting Barker: so I hear you hate gay people, what’s up with that Barker: Barker: oh sorry usually about this time edgar would intervene Barker: haha damn I’m not used to working alone

Barker: so I heard you hate gay people Sanderson: haha no no you got it all wrong Sanderson: I don’t personally hate gay people Sanderson: I simply support an institution that wants to kill them

Sanderson: I think they’re neat Sanderson: if it were up to me, they wouldn’t be exterminated at all Sanderson: but jeez, guys, who am I to tell the Mormon church it’s wrong? Sanderson: I really don’t have any choice here other than to keep tithing them millions of dollars Sanderson: I guess I gotta just hope they don’t use all that money for anything bad Sanderson: but my hands are tied Orson Scott Card: oh yeah totally very relatable

Barker: haha that sucks, man Sanderson: whoa whoa whoa Sanderson: look, I know you all think I’m some sort of bogeyman for giving millions of dollars to a church that wants to kill queer people Sanderson: but consider this Sanderson: I wrote Lord Orebor Twylbyll in The Shroud of Steel and Ivory to be gray ace Sanderson: so really I think that balances everything out Barker: Barker: haha Barker: that still sucks man

[riotseas]

❝ The Undying. ❞ Joshua spits, stricken with a guilt that gets him quiet.

He tries to not speak ill of the group, even after being gone as long as he has. It felt like a bad omen on a good day, and on the worst it felt as though they were lurking in the shadows, waiting to get the jump on him. In the end, they were the ones that pulled him from the rubble. Who knows what could've happened were he taken by someone else or left stranded.

Cid bristles at the mention of the name too, in a less physical way, but still with a hint of loathing. ❝ Better off not knowing about them. Not out here, anyways. What would you say, Joshua ? It's been about a year ? Couple months at least ? ❞

Joshua hums, ❝ Something like that. Though, it's not so much traveling as it is doing all his dirty work. ❞

That drives a laugh from Cid, who has all intentions of defending himself until Clive asks about the Veil.

❝ You don't know about the Veil? They never take you there ? ❞

It's an innocent question, really. Clive doesn't know any better; but it sets something off inside Joshua, who's mood is already soured with the earlier Undying mention.

❝ Not everyone is a regular like you, old man. ❞

Cid doesn't flinch, doesn't notice Joshua's sudden internal turmoil.

❝ It's a whore house. Thinking about going, Clive ? ❞

It's a joke, though not a particularly funny one. Joshua wants to rip the damn fool's head right off. He doesn't, but he thinks really hard about it, so caught up in the fantasy he bites down on the inside of his cheek. The pain washes away the sudden bout of anger, leaving him slightly puzzled. What is it his business if Clive wanted to go?

They've finally crossed over into the deadlands, where green bleeds gray and the stench of decay blows ash. It gets easier to deal with each passing day, but the scent lingers, even with the help of salts and herbs.

The ruins blend in with the muted colors of its surroundings, stretching far into the mountains and breaking off into the sky. Where the Blight has pushed people out, it's invited them in, keeping the spot under lock and key as life thrives.

❝ Up there—That's our Hideaway. Built from hands of fellas just like you. Well, save for the ruins n' whatnot. You get the idea though. ❞

It's that last question that sends them stumbling, not exactly a casual conversation piece. There's a time and place for everything and they're not sure when or where that's supposed to be for this. Cid, the bastard, mumbles something about grabbing a few others to help with Jill and runs off with Torgal in tow, leaving Joshua to fend for himself.

He sighs similar to Clive, as if it'll let the dread out.

❝ I'm sorry, Clive. I don't have any answers. I hardly remember that night, let alone waking up five years later. I wish I could tell you more, I do. ❞

Though not entirely untrue, he still feels guilty for lying. He's never lied to Clive before, never had a reason to. But this is a matter of everything—him, them, their relationship—he can't ruin what he has when he just got it back.

Nothing more than Cid? Clive has a really difficult time believing that - the man carries himself in a way Clive recognizes. Carefree as he may seem, a soldier recognizes another soldier. However, the man isn't from the Imperial Army nor does he seem to be part of any army now. Former soldier, then?

Ran away when he got the chance? Thirteen years have come and gone since that awful night, so just when did Joshua run away? And run away from who? The answers he's being given is only giving him more questions. "Found by who? How long have you two been traveling together?"

Oh, that place sounds.....interesting. What kind of business names their place The Veil? "What's the Veil?"

Clive snorts when Cid says no offense to his comrades. "They're not my comrades." He sounds bitter and it's because he is. None of those people had become friends, he didn't feel safe with a single one of them. More like tormentors and abusers and people who mocked him. He'd been all too happy to turn his blade on them.

Pretend. Is it pretend or is Cid or Joshua or even both of them to be considered his Master now? After all, he's branded, and branded are not seen without a Master. "I suppose that'll have to do. Branded aren't exactly allowed many places without a Master and it wouldn't be the first time a branded soldier found himself a new Master." If said branded soldier was lucky, that is. Most of them end up dead.

"Where are we going anyway?" Wherever it is, if the army can't find them, it's got to be decently hidden away. Which begs the question - why is it hidden? There's more to this whole thing than he's currently being told, Clive knows it.

If he wasn't so desperate for answers, he doesn't think he'd be firing off questions one after another so quickly but can he be blamed? His whole world, everything he's known, is being turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

"What happened to the second dominant of fire, then? Did he assume you were dead and just....left?" He pauses, heaving a sigh that has his shoulders rising and falling with the action. "I know I'm asking a lot but I need to understand. For thirteen years, I was led to believe you were dead, Joshua. This is confusing, to say the least."